Touching Down(73)
“So, fine.” Grant gripped one of the barbells so hard his knuckles looked ready to break through his skin. “I’ll track the piece of shit down if he’s still alive and make him beg for Huntington’s to kill him instead of what I’ll threaten to do.”
My head fell into my hands. He didn’t understand. He wasn’t getting why I was bringing this up now.
I didn’t know I’d started crying until I noticed the dark spots on the floor at my feet. “Charlie . . .”
It was all I needed to say. Just her name.
“No. God, no.” Grant’s voice was a hollow echo in the room.
When my head tipped up just enough to look him in the eyes, his face blanched.
“Don’t . . . just don’t,” he said, his voice shaking. “Don’t say the fucking word, Ryan. I won’t hear it. I can’t take it . . . not both of you.” His legs wobbled once before his knees buckled beneath him.
I rushed toward him, but he’d already fallen to his knees before I got there. His back was shaking with silent sobs, but his eyes were dry. No, his eyes were angry as he glared through the ceiling like he was shooting his wrath at every god and star in the sky that had played a hand in this moment.
“Grant—”
“No!” he hollered. “Don’t say it.” His arms tied around his neck as his jaw quivered. “I’m not losing her too. I’m not losing either of you.” Shoving off of his knees, he started to leave the room.
“Grant, please,” I called, wanting to follow him, so he didn’t have to be alone, but my legs wouldn’t take me. I was stuck. There was no going back, no going forward.
“Charlie is my daughter. You are the woman that I love.” He rolled to a stop just outside of the door, his expression dark. “No one or nothing is taking either one of you from me without going through me first.”
“Don’t run away. Don’t go hide somewhere to be alone with this. Stay. Talk. Be with me.” My lip trembled. “I’m hurting too.”
His shoulders tensed. “I need to be alone.”
“No, you don’t. Neither of us have to be alone right now.” I lifted my arm, like I was hoping he’d take my hand from all the way across the room.
“Jesus Christ, Ryan.” He cursed, driving his palm into the doorway. “You’ve had a year to try to wrap your head around this. Back off and give me one goddamned night.”
ONE NIGHT. ONE day. By the calendar’s estimation, it was an afterthought. But never had one night and one day passed so slowly in my life. Not even when I’d been waiting for the test results to come in when the doctors suspected I was showing signs of Huntington’s.
Actually, there were times during the night when I’d been certain time had come to an utter and total standstill. I’d only shared one night in the same bed as Grant, but crawling into an empty bed had never felt so cold. I mourned his presence like we’d shared a lifetime of nights together.
Charlie had been appeased with the explanation that Grant was pulling some extra training sessions, but I knew she wouldn’t be appeased by that for much longer.
I didn’t know where he was. I didn’t know where he’d slept last night. I didn’t know if he’d shown up for practice this morning. I didn’t know if he was even real anymore. Grant had always been more angel than human to me. More ephemeral than flesh and blood.
Charlie had been asleep for a while before I decided to go for a quick walk around the gardens. Mrs. Kent was staying over to get up with Charlie since I had an early morning appointment, and I needed some fresh air to clear my head.
The lights inside of the pool house were out, no evidence of anyone inside.
Where are you, Grant? I need you. I can’t do this alone. I don’t want to.
My walk hadn’t taken me far before I noticed a pair of headlights moving up the driveway. A pair of truck’s headlights.
My throat tightened at the same time my shoulders sagged in relief. He was home. He’d come back.
After he parked, I noticed his dark figure moving toward the pool house. It looked like he was carrying something. Something large. I wasn’t sure if he wanted to see me yet or if he was ready, but I had to see him. I had to make sure he was okay. I knew from my own experience of learning that my daughter could have the same disease I’d just been diagnosed with, that piece of news was the most heartbreaking.
He noticed me as he passed by the pool. Even though it was dark, I could make out the look on his face. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t crushed. From the set of his jaw and the line of his brow, he looked more determined than anything.