Page 33 of Healed Hearts (Mended Hearts #2)

Chapter Thirty-Two

Julian

“ H ey, Hold. I don’t think this medicine is working.”

Holden turns to me from his position on the couch, where Wren is tucked against his chest, dead asleep. “No. It can take up to six months for it to start working, if it’s going to.”

Six fucking months. What am I supposed to do with that? Just let my daughter suffer and fucking suffer until what? Until she hopefully gets a bone marrow transplant? “This fucking sucks.”

He nods, brushing a stray lock of her curly hair off her face. “Yeah, it really does. But we should know something about a definite diagnosis within a couple of days. Although Beck and I both agree the initial diagnosis is right.”

I watch the two of them, irritation and anger burning in my stomach. It seems we’ve moved past panic and are solidly in the angry category. Both make me feel completely out of control. At least with the anxiety, I can pop a Xanax and let it disappear for a while. Sure, it’s an illusion, but it’s an illusion I need, thank you very much.

Holden sighs, wrapping slim fingers around my hand, and gives it a gentle squeeze. “It’s going to be okay in time, I promise.”

“Yeah, well, that doesn’t really help right now, does it?” I snap. Holden’s gaze turns slowly toward me, and he pulls his hand from mine. My stomach drops out as shocked emerald pools meet my eyes. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.” Goddammit.

Holden doesn’t respond. Not with words, anyway. He slowly adjusts Wren until she’s lying on the couch and then he crawls across it and climbs in my lap. The second his weight settles on me, I pull him against me and bury my face in his hair, wrapping my arms around him like a vise. “I’m sorry, darlin’.”

He hums softly. “I think I’ve jumped your ass enough times that you owe me at least a couple.” There’s humor in his voice, but it does nothing to assuage my guilt about the way I snapped at him. He’s doing his best. We all are. Hell, I’m half-convinced he’s the only reason I’m not a complete fucking mess right now.

“You deserve better than to be talked to that way.”

He pulls back and his eyes meet mine. “You’re scared. Hell, I’m scared. What did you tell me about how love makes you a little crazy?” He smirks at me.

I sigh. “Yeah, but it’s different when I’m trying to stop you from feeling guilty. When I’m the one who feels guilty, I don’t like my words being used back against me.”

He leans in and presses a soft kiss to my lips. When he pulls back, his eyes are lit with humor and understanding. “You know, it’s the craziest thing, but I think this makes me love you more.”

What?

“That doesn’t make any sense, darlin’.”

He shrugs. “Sure it does. It’s the first chink I’ve seen in your armor. You’re usually so reserved and calm. It’s nice that I’m not the only one who loses my shit and gets snappy from time to time. I hardly believed you were capable of being less than perfection. It’s nice to see you’re just as flawed as I am.”

The grin on his gorgeous face makes me relax a bit. Not completely. But a little. “I don’t ever want to use you as my emotional punching bag. That’s not a flaw I want.”

His face turns serious, his eyes assessing. “Julian, you’re not using me as a punching bag. You’re stressed out about your daughter and her health.” He pauses and lets out a little half laugh. “Oh no, my perfect, too good to be true boyfriend, who is endlessly patient and loving and caring, snapped at me one single time. I’m positively mistreated. Where’s the guy with the red flags?”

This little shit. I pull him back toward me and hold him tightly against me. I’d be happy to have this forever—his weight in my lap, my arms wrapped around him. I thank my lucky stars every day that I decided to get back out there. Turns out, I didn’t need distance or detachment at all. I simply needed him.

I let my fingers explore the small of his back as he practically melts against me, a little whimper rising in his throat. I chuckle. “You really like physical touch, huh?”

He nods. “Yeah, I really do. It’s hard when you need it so damn much, but you can’t get it because the only people who want to touch you are the same people hurting you. So it’s like, cool, I’m gonna touch you, but I’m actually going to give you lasting trauma. I found myself accepting things I probably shouldn’t have, just so I could be touched.”

He says it so matter of fact. Like it doesn’t bother him at all, but it bothers the hell out of me. I think of a younger version of him, being denied love, being forced to do awful things just to get human touch, and it hurts my heart so badly I almost can’t breathe around the pain. “I’m so sorry, Holden.”

He shrugs. “It is what it is. I can’t change the past. I can only be thankful for the present. And the safe touch I get now.” He giggles. “You’ve ruined me for everyone else, though, I fear. The last couple of times I’ve tried to cuddle with Beck or Ro, it sucks. Not that I don’t love them, and they’re safe too, obviously. But it’s all wrong. I need it to be you. I’ve felt safe with you since that very first night. I never, ever fall asleep with hookups—too scared of what could happen to me.”

That makes me feel good. So good. “I always want to be safe for you, darlin’.”

He tilts his head back and gazes into my eyes. “I don’t think you have it in you to not be.” He grins, a thoughtful expression on his face. “When Beck told me he was going to propose to Ro, I was so happy for them. But there was a small part of me that was sad. I tried to hide it from Beck, but I didn’t do a very good job. I didn’t want them to think I wasn’t happy for them. I just…” His voice trails off as he tucks his face back into my neck. “I wanted that for myself, you know?” His words are muffled against my skin. “I wanted to belong to someone. To know that I had someone for me and only me. Someone who I could be vulnerable with, who I could trust with the less than savory parts of myself. Who I didn’t have to be scared around. I had given up hope. Until I met you.”

His words crack my chest wide open. I squeeze him closer to me, reveling in the feel of this amazing, wonderful, sometimes complicated and complex man in my arms. “I didn’t think there was anyone for me, either. I figured I got lucky with Maya and that was that. I was afraid to let someone in. I wanted a quick hookup. I even told myself after you left that I did it and I could move on.”

He giggles against my throat. “Ruined your plans, huh?”

“You sure did.”

He’s quiet for a moment. When he pulls back, he grasps my face in his hands and peers into my eyes. “I have faith everything is going to work out. Wren will get the help she needs. And we’re all going to live happily ever after. In the meantime, I’m here for it all. The doctor visits and the hospital stays. Your fears. Your moods—all of them. Even the bad ones. I never want you to hide yourself from me. If you’re sad or anxious or hell—pissed at the world—I want to be the person you share that with. Even when it comes out in less than desirable ways. I’ll fight with you and for you and for Wren. I want that.”

His eyes are sincere, tinted with a hint of pleading, like there’s a chance in hell I’d ever deny him. I nod, too stunned to do anything else. Fuck. My previous assessment that this man is everything was spot on. “Ditto, darlin’,” I somehow choke out around the lump in my throat. Wars could be fought over the smile he gives me in return.

Wren’s sitting on my lap, Ruby and Henry on one side of us, and Holden and Roman on the other, when Dr. Mays steps into the room with Lydia and gives us an official diagnosis of aplastic anemia. Something that, as Dr. Mays explains, is not cancer, but will still require near-constant medical supervision.

He looks down his nose at Holden when he says it too. Not that Hold backs down at that look. Honestly, I kind of got lost somewhere around continued blood transfusions and possible iron build-up from too many blood transfusions. Oh, and the part where even though she doesn’t have cancer , she’ll still need fucking chemotherapy to prepare her body for transplant when that time comes.

“I think we have the medical supervision covered,” Holden says, steel in his voice.

Dr. Mays gives a curt nod and turns, leaving the room. I stare after him, slightly bothered by the way he comes in, drops awful news, and then walks back out without a hint of kindness. I see Lydia step forward out of my periphery, and she gives my thigh a gentle squeeze. “Are you okay?”

I drag my eyes from the door to look at her. I can hear Holden talking to Henry and Ruby, but I tune them out so I can focus on her. I nod. “Yeah, I think so.”

She gives me a smile that looks so much like Beck’s compassionate grin that it almost makes me laugh. Almost. “Kids are very resilient. They can handle more than most adults. She probably won’t even remember this when she gets older. And if she does, it won’t be as bad as you’ll remember it. You’re a good dad. I can tell. She’ll get through this and so will you.”

I nod, afraid that if I try to talk, I’ll cry instead. She reaches out and caresses Wren’s cheek. “You’ve got a great Daddy, Miss Wren. Between him and Holden and those new uncles of yours, everything’s going to be just fine.” My nose burns with incoming tears. Okay, so maybe I’ll cry even if I don’t talk. Love that for me.

I clear my throat, trying to loosen the sudden tightness there. I usually hate when people talk to me through Wren, but I’m finding I don’t mind this time. Is it wrong to be thankful for Holden, not only for all the things he’s given me, but also for the support system that has suddenly dropped in my lap? I know I said I could do this on my own, and I could —if I had to. But fuck, am I glad I don’t. “Thanks, Lydia.”

She nods. “Do you have any questions?”

I’m tempted to tell her no and talk to Holden instead, but I don’t want to put him in a bad situation. “How often do you think she’ll need transfusions?”

Lydia hums. “Well, that depends on a few factors. But as it stands, her numbers are already dipping low. So I’d say she’ll need one soon. Then hopefully not any more than once every couple of weeks.”

“Okay. And as far as the transplant? Can I be tested?”

Lydia smiles. “Of course. The best matches are usually family. Dr. Mays hasn’t talked to you about this already?”

I shake my head. “No. He’s barely told me anything.”

She lets out an annoyed huff. “Yes, family is usually the best place to find a match. We can have you tested today if you’d like.”

I nod, trying to take in that information when Roman clears his throat. “I’d like to be tested for donation too, Lydia.”

I turn to him quickly, slightly shocked. What the hell. “Me too,” Holden says.

“Us as well," Ruby adds.

Roman’s phone dings, and he glances down at it quickly, a small smile spreading across his face. “Beck too. We know the most likely match would come from Julian, Ruby, or Henry, but we still want to try.”

That proves to be too much for my tattered emotions. I take a hitching breath a split-second before a sob bubbles up and tears through my lips.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Lydia whispers, stepping forward and wrapping me in a huge hug. Holden’s hand lands on my back. I’m vaguely aware of Ruby ushering Henry out of the room and Roman stepping out with them, but I’m too busy crying into Lydia’s shoulder to pay them too much attention. “It’s all going to be okay. We’re going to get you taken care of.”

I nod, trying to get my emotions in check. Wren pats my chest. “Crying, Daddy?” she whispers, then she’s crying too. Holden gently pulls her from between me and Lydia, and I can hear him softly comforting her. The tenderness in his voice as he tries to calm her down makes me cry harder. Such a difference to my last freak-out in this same room when she was crying alone, waiting for me to pull myself together. Now she has him too, and not only me. Even so, crying on your boyfriend’s adopted mom is so not the move, but I can’t help it. Jesus Christ, Julian. Get it together.

Lydia doesn’t seem put out or irritated, though. She just keeps her arms around me, making soothing noises in my ear as I air out all my grief over the situation and the fucking relief of having all these people in my life. All these people who are willing to do this for my daughter. Ruby and Henry aren’t a surprise. Not even Holden, if I’m being honest with myself. But Beck and Roman? That has me all the way fucked up.

When my tears have finally slowed to a trickle, I sit back and inhale a shuddering breath. Lydia’s kind eyes come into focus. “Sorry,” I whisper.

Before she can even respond, Holden’s giving my hair a tug. “We don’t apologize for our feelings.”

I turn to him, and he’s glaring at me playfully—the corner of his lips turned up in a little smirk. I nod. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry.”

He gives me a pointed look, and I replay my words, then grin. “I’m sorry for being sorry for being sorry.”

He laughs, startling Wren, who’s sucking her thumb with her head against his chest. “Well, Beck is waiting for us all to go get our blood drawn, so whenever you’re ready, we’ll head down.”

A new wave of emotions sweeps through me, making my eyes fill again. God, this is too much. “I’m ready.”

Holden gives me a breathtaking smile, then steps toward Lydia. “Thank you,” he whispers before pulling her into a side hug.

“Come have dinner with us soon, Hold. Okay? Bring Julian and Wren. Danny wants to meet them.”

He nods, stepping back. “Will do.”

Lydia gives me a slight nod, thankfully saying nothing about my little breakdown, and leaves the room. Holden comes to stand beside me. “You alright?”

I nod. “Yeah, I think I will be. I told myself I wasn’t going to ask you stuff like this, but what are the chances?”

He studies me for a second. “We’re going to come back to you not wanting to ask me stuff later. For Ruby and Henry, their odds of being a match are twenty-five percent. For you, it’s about fifty-percent. And then you’ll not only need to be a match, but at least a fifty percent match. A full match would be ideal, but that’s rare. At any rate, fifty percent is fine. She’ll need additional care before and after, but it has been done successfully many times.”

I swallow hard. “And if none of us are a match?”

He reaches out, cupping my chin in his hand. “Then we wait for a match from the registry.”

“Okay. I’m ready.” Well, as ready as I’m ever going to be, I suppose.

Holden turns Wren until she’s on his hip. I stand as his hand falls away from my face. We walk hand-in-hand to the hallway where everyone is standing around waiting for us. Roman grins at me. “You ready?”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“Great. Beck wants us to meet him in exam room three. Says it’s the biggest room.”

Holden chuckles. “Can confirm. Also, I’m sure it’ll be a bit of a blast to the past for you.”

Roman’s nose scrunches up. “What do you mean?”

Holden tilts his head. “That’s the room you got your hand stitched up in.”

Realization lights up Roman’s face. “Ah, well, I’d just as soon forget about that day, to be honest.”

“That was the day you got Beck back, though,” Holden says, clearly confused.

“No.” Beck’s voice behind us startles me. “That was the day I almost let the best thing in my life walk away from me. Again .” We all turn to him. He shrugs. “Got tired of waiting. So now you all get to do this here. Step back into the room, please. Hold, are you good with doing my blood draw?”

“Sure am.”

“You were serious about this? All of you?” I blurt out.

Five sets of eyes bore into mine. Roman recovers first. “Did you think we weren’t?”

“Um, maybe a little.”

He chuckles. Then Beck says, “I know Mom wants to get tested too. But she’s scared you’ll give her the boot if she gets too attached, like you did with Holden.”

My jaw drops. “I did not give Holden the boot.”

Holden scoffs. “Yeah, I gave myself the boot. Besides, I think I like my role a lot better now than I did before, Beckett.” He sobers. “But really, thank you so much for doing this.”

Beck smiles. “Of course. Let’s get to it, then.”

We all follow him back into the room and when we step inside, Lydia walks in behind us, carrying a little tub filled with needles and blood collection tubes.

Beck starts with Wren and goes down the line, collecting each of our blood samples. When it’s time for his, he grins up at Holden. “Now, remember, CT, this is the only time I’m going to let you come at me with a needle.”

Holden rolls his eyes. “Oh hush, Beckett. I’m more than qualified. I probably draw blood more than you do.”

Beck chuckles. “Yeah, you’re most likely right about that.”

By the time he’s done, we all have matching band-aids in the crooks of our elbows. My heart feels so full it could explode. Even if none of us end up being a match, that they all did this for my daughter means the world to me. I have no idea how I’m going to pay them back for this.