Page 14

Wren

B y the time I’m wheeled into my room and my nurse has me settled in, I’m so exhausted I can’t think straight. My head pounds like someone is in there playing a dang concert. My entire body hurts. But I’m not ready to sleep yet. I need to see Micah first.

“Can my brother come and see me?” I ask my nurse, Felicity. I want Archer back in here too, but I think I should talk to Micah alone, first. I’m not ready to hear them fighting again.

My heart nearly stopped when I pulled up at the hotel and saw Micah hit Archer. I wanted to cry. Remembering what they said isn’t as easy. It feels like pulling up events from a long time ago versus a few hours ago. But I clearly remember that I wanted to hop right back in the cab and leave.

“Yep.” Felicity smiles at me. “Which one of the hunks in the waiting room is he? I’ll send someone to get him.”

“Brown eyes, glasses.” I sigh. “Probably cranky.”

She chuckles softly as she double checks my IV bag. “Older brothers are always cranky, honey. I’ll go get him.”

“Thanks.” I grimace, shifting around.

“You need more pain medication?”

“Not yet.” I’d rather be lucid for this conversation, and I already feel like I’m thinking through a thick cloud of fog. I hesitate. “Can I have it after I’m finished talking to him?”

“That bad, huh?”

I’m not sure if she’s talking about the pain or Micah, so I just nod.

“I’ll send him right in,” she promises, gently squeezing my arm before she leaves the room.

I smooth the blankets over my lap, praying he’s calmed down a little. Archer said that they were okay, but I’m not convinced. I know Micah too well. He’s the most stubborn person I’ve ever met in my life. And, for some reason, he refuses to let go of the past and let me grow up. He’s too busy blaming himself to realize that he was never at fault to begin with.

I wasn’t out on that pond just because of him. I was out there because I’m stubborn too. Because I hated my school. My classmates didn’t like me much, so I had no friends. I just wanted to go back to the way things were when life was easy, and our parents were happy. I was convinced Micah coming home would fix everything. That wasn’t his fault. I was just a dumb kid doing desperate, dumb kid things.

Micah taps on the door, and my heart gets lodged in my throat. Worry carves lines around his eyes and mouth. He’s as pale as Archer was, his eyes brimming with anxiety.

“Hey,” he rasps, stepping into my room. He sounds…nervous. Like he’s afraid I’m going to yell at him or tell him to get lost. The big idiot. Even when he’s infuriating, he’s still my brother. He’s still my hero.

“Bet you didn’t think we’d ever be here again, did you?” I ask, giving him a tiny smile. It wobbles on my face. “At least I’m awake this time.”

“Don’t even joke like that, Wren,” he rasps, his whole body trembling as he stomps across my room. “Jesus. I thought we were going to lose you again.”

“I’m okay,” I promise, reaching out for his hand.

He grabs mine gently, clinging like I’m a lifeline. His shoulders shake as he drops into the chair beside the bed, his eyes locked on my face. “I’m sorry,” he groans. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Micah,” I say softly, shaking my head. “It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t Archer’s fault, either. I was standing in the middle of a driveway, not paying attention.”

“The fucking driver wasn’t paying attention,” he growls, anger burning in his gaze. “He could have–”

“Well, he didn’t. I’m fine.”

“You were unconscious for an hour.”

“Forty-nine minutes.”

He rumbles a growl, clearly not mollified.

“I’ll be fine,” I say. “You’ve had a concussion or three in your life.”

“Not like this,” he mutters.

I sigh, shaking my head. “You’re so stubborn.” I narrow my eyes on him, determination filling me. “Well, so am I. If you blame yourself, I’ll never forgive you, and I’ll never speak to you again.”

His face visibly pales. “You don’t mean that.”

“Yes, I do,” I say far more bravely than I feel. “You’ve spent the last twelve years of my life feeling responsible for something that wasn’t your fault. I refuse to stand by and watch you spend the next twelve feeling guilty for this.”

“Fuck,” he mutters, glaring at me.

I glare right back.

He breaks first, bowing his head. “I’ll try to let it go.”

“Try hard. You need to talk to someone, Micah. I’m serious.”

“I know.” He blows out a breath. “I’m already talking to Emilia. Have been since I upset you at the game.”

“Are you serious?” I cry softly. If I could get out of this bed right now, I’d strangle him. “You’ve been talking to her for almost two weeks already, and you’re still being a pain in the ass?”

“Well…yeah.”

I laugh despite myself, which only makes me groan.

“Fuck. I’m sorry. Don’t laugh,” he whispers, cringing. “I hate seeing you in pain.”

“I don’t like being in pain.” I meet his gaze. “But this is nothing compared to watching the two men I love most in the world come to blows, Micah. That really hurt.”

I see remorse written all over his face before he bows his head. “I’m an asshole,” he whispers.

“Yeah, you are.”

“You really love him, huh?”

“Since I met him,” I admit, my voice hoarse. “I tried so hard to fight it, Micah. At your wedding, I was mean to him. I tried to avoid him. I ignored him. I acted like he didn’t matter at all. But he didn’t give up. By the time the weekend was over, I was so in love with him.” I sigh quietly. “And I knew you’d never approve. I knew you’d react just like this.”

“I’m sorry, Wren. I just…fuck.” He huffs out a breath. “I know what this life is like. I know how hard you worked to find your own way after spending years in the back of that van. It’s fucking hard to watch you end up right back there, chasing someone else’s dream again.”

“Is that what you think?” I ask, surprised.

He jerks his chin in a nod.

“After my accident, you made me promise to chase my dreams instead of yours,” I murmur. “That’s what I’m doing now, Micah. I don’t care if he plays hockey for the rest of our lives or if I spend half the season in our bed alone because he’s on the road. That’s not a sacrifice to me. It’s part of loving him, just like following you around when I was little was part of loving you. I love him .”

“Fuck,” he mutters, scrubbing a hand down his face. I expect him to argue…but he doesn’t. “He feels the same way about you.” His eyes meet mine, his expression somber. “I’ve never seen him like he was today, Wren. When they loaded you into that ambulance…” He trails off, swallowing convulsively. “It was bad.”

“How would you feel if it were Elodie?” I ask, my heart squeezing in a vise.

He jerks his chin in a nod. “Been thinking that same goddamn thing all day.” He sighs heavily. “I wish like hell the two of you had been honest, but I’m not going to stand in your way. If he’s what you want, he’ll love you the way you deserve.”

Tears well in my eyes. He gets it. He finally freaking gets it.

“Don’t let this come between you,” I plead quietly. “He’s your best friend, Micah. He matters to you just as much as I do. And I’m the reason we didn’t tell you, not him. I think he would have told you on the phone that morning, but he kept it a secret because I was afraid to tear everything apart.”

“Not entirely accurate, little bird,” Archer rumbles from the doorway.

Micah and I both turn to look at him.

“I figured if he knew, there wasn’t a chance in hell you’d stay with me,” he murmurs, stepping into the room. “I needed time to convince you to fall for me.” He swallows, his gaze locked on my face. “Just didn’t realize you were already there.”

“I’ve always been there,” I whisper, my heart hammering against my breastbone. Even now, with Micah right beside me and my whole body aching, I want him in a way I’ve never wanted anything. I want his hands on me. I want his laughter. His smiles. His possession. I want everything. “I was afraid, but you didn’t have to convince me to love you, Archer. That was automatic.”

“Jesus,” Micah grumbles. “If you two are going to be all hearts and flowers and shit all the time, I may object to this just to spare myself.”

“It’s what she deserves,” Archer says, shrugging.

Micah grumbles under his breath, but he isn’t mad. For once…I think we’re actually okay. I see it in his eyes. Acceptance. Amusement. Peace. He’s done being stubborn and unreasonable.

Tears well in my eye, spilling over.

“What the fuck?” Micah looks at me, slightly horrified. “I’m just kidding, Wren. I’m not going to be an asshole. Please don’t cry.”

“She’s happy,” Archer says, stepping up beside the bed.

“She’s crying,” my brother complains.

“Yeah. She does that when she’s happy.”

Micah looks to me for confirmation, but all I can do is nod and sniffle. It seems to mollify him, though. He shakes his head, climbing to his feet. “I’m going to call Mom and Dad to let them know you’re okay. Archer can sit with you,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of my head. He lingers there for a moment. “I’m sorry, baby sister. And I’m happy for you.”

I hiccup through a sob.

Micah backs away with his hands in the air. “Yep. That’s my cue to get the fuck out of here.” He shoots a look at Archer. “You got it from here, man?”

“Yeah,” Archer says, not even looking at him. He’s too busy staring at me, just like always. “I’ve got her from here.”

More happy tears well, spilling down my cheeks. Archer shakes his head, a soft smile on his face as he slips into the chair Micah just abandoned, reaching out to dry my cheeks.

“What am I going to do with you, little bird?” he asks, his voice soft.

“Love me.”

“Simple.” He leans forward, brushing his lips against mine. “Loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done, Wren.”