Page 21

Chapter twenty-one

Hazel James

I’m really grateful this waiting room is empty right now. If it weren't, I’d feel self-conscious about the number of times I’ve paced to the door, stopped, and turned back around. I haven’t counted, but I’m sure it’s concerning.

The doctor told me this morning that my mom is doing well. She woke up during the night and was able to understand where she was and why she was there. He said she’d be in and out of sleep a lot as her body recovers, but that she could have visitors. Ever since hearing that, I’ve tried to make myself go and see her, but so far every attempt has failed.

For a while, I was glued to my chair, my thoughts moving at speeds that would rival Emmett’s fastball. Then came the pacing. I’m surprised there isn’t a streak on the tile floor from where my white canvas sneakers have dragged across it over and over. Thankfully, Raven isn’t here to witness my breakdown, either. She’s sleeping off the difficult day at my apartment. I wish I was with her.

I stare at the gray door. My thoughts start to spiral again. My mind is one big Wheel of Misfortune, and I’m not sure where it’s going to land.

I should go see her.

Will she even care that I’m here?

She has no one.

I have no one.

She might be hurt if no one shows up.

She hurt Raven.

She hurt me .

I groan and bury my head in my hands. If I could just make a decision , everything would get better. I would have to live with whatever choice I made. But it feels impossible to choose. I wish there was a third option. One where my moral compass didn’t feel so stuck.

My phone buzzes in the seat next to me. I pick it up from beside the half-eaten package of pretzels that were my dinner last night and breakfast this morning. I haven’t been able to stomach much since yesterday. I’m expecting a message from Mikayla when I flip the screen over. She wishes she could be here supporting me, but her whole family got the flu last week and are still recovering.

I blink in surprise when I see a text from Emmett.

Emmett: What floor of the hospital are you on?

My brow furrows. Did staring at these beige walls for so long melt my brain? Why is Emmett asking me that? Wondering if I’m going to wake up from this dream soon, I text him back.

Hazel: Sixth floor, why?

No response. Odd. After the past week, I don’t know what to expect from him. I know that I didn’t expect him to message me at all, and now he has twice. Once, to ask if I made it to the hospital, and now this puzzle.

I shake off my curiosity and shift my focus back to the task at hand: forcing myself to make a decision. I stand up again, hoping beyond hope that I’ll get to the door and decide either to walk out and leave the hospital or go to room 637. As I stand, the door opens, startling me.

There in the doorway is Emmett. I squeeze my eyes shut, then open them again. He’s still there, muscular arms full of items. He sets the array down on a chair by the door. I keep my eyes on him, not caring what he brought with him because he’s here .

He turns to face me fully, and his arms open for a hug. I cross the room and barrel into him. My arms wrap around his waist, tight. He splays one of his hands against my back, while the other comes around to cradle my head. The tears return and I couldn’t stop them if I tried. I break down again in earnest, sobbing against his chest. He rubs gentle circles on my back and doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t have to. This is exactly what I needed.

I squeeze him tighter, and there’s safety in knowing it’s not too much for him. The muscles in his back are taut. His arms around me don’t falter. He’s a fortress. A safe place to hide. The decisions, the pain, the burden of this whole situation, he’s shielding me from it all. I’ve never felt so secure.

“Thank you,” I murmur into his black henley once my crying subsides.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.” His hand travels up and down my spine. I close my eyes, savoring the comfort his touch brings. The beat of his heart grounds me. I never want to leave his arms.

I freeze as realization pours over me like a cold shower. Emmett is hugging me. Holding me. Willingly. How did we go from insurmountable distance to zero ?

I tilt my head back to look up at him. His deep brown eyes meet mine. Concern furrows his brow. He slides his hand from behind my neck to below my jaw. I shiver.

“Are you okay? Are things worse than you let on?” he asks.

His thumb strokes my cheekbone, making it difficult to answer. I feel like I’m in a dream.

“I-I’m okay.” I might not be if he keeps staring at me like I’m important to him, though.

“And your mom?”

I tilt my head down, unable to look him in the eye while telling him what’s really going on. His hand slides down with my movement. The warmth of his palm heats my neck.

“My mom isn’t sick like I told you. She–well, she had alcohol poisoning. Raven called yesterday after finding her unconscious. She’s okay now. The doctor said she can have visitors.” My chest tightens as all of my worries come rushing back. “I haven’t gone to see her yet because I’m a coward who can’t make up her mind.”

Emmett tilts my face back up, his other hand framing my face. He stares into my eyes.

“You are not a coward, Hazel. You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met.” His words hold a conviction that makes my breath catch.

“You really think that?” I whisper.

“I don’t say things I don’t mean.”

A soft laugh escapes me. “No, you don’t. I just feel like I should be strong enough to decide one way or the other, but I’m not.”

“I think you are. I think you know what you want to do, but you’re tired of being alone.”

I blink away more tears. “How do you know that?”

His mouth hitches up on the left side. “Because I’ve felt the same way.”

I place my hands on his forearms and squeeze as I think of the pain he must have endured alone after his divorce.

He swipes my tears away. “Now, my brave girl, what do you want to do?”

My heart stumbles over his words, but I’m too emotionally raw to dwell on them.

“I want to see her, to make sure she’s okay with my own eyes,” I say quietly.

He nods. “Okay. Do you want me to go with you?”

My chin trembles. “You would do that?”

“For you, I’d do that and a whole lot more, Hazel.”

My bruised and aching heart swells in my chest.

“Would you stand outside the door? That way I’ll know you’re nearby, but I can be alone with her.”

“Sure, I can do that.”

I give him a wobbly smile. “Thank you, Emmett.”

He pulls me in for another hug. My eyes fall shut and I breathe in his clean laundry scent.

“On second thought, I think I’ll just stay here,” I murmur against his chest.

A chuckle rumbles through him. My face heats. I can’t believe I said that out loud. The sleep deprivation and lack of food must have caught up to me.

“That’s an option too. Whatever you want.”

My heart warms from his offer. There’s my third option. A small, genuine smile stretches my lips.

“It’s tempting, but I think I should go.” I pull away from him, immediately missing the contact.

He watches me with the thoughtful gaze I’ve come to know well.

“When’s the last time you ate?”

“Oh, um…” I’m caught off guard by his question. “I had some pretzels this morning.”

He frowns. “I definitely should have come sooner.” He grabs a bag off the chair and a cup that looks to be filled with some kind of iced matcha drink. There’s purple foam on top, which I haven’t seen before.

“What’s this?” I ask as I take it from him.

“A breakfast sandwich and a lavender matcha. They didn’t have strawberry, or else I would have gotten that. You should eat a little before you go see your mom. It will steady your nerves.”

I nod, though I feel like I’m underwater while he’s trying to talk to me. He remembered my drink order. He brought me food and–I glance down at the hospital chair– “Are those yellow tulips?”

He scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, I thought they might cheer you up. Or you could give them to your mom.”

I beam at him. The action feels foreign after all the crying I’ve done.

“They’re beautiful,” I breathe. “Thank you, Emmett. I’ll take them back to my apartment when I go to check on Raven.”

My bright mood dims a little at the thought of my sister. I still have to figure out where she’s going to live. It’s clear that my mom needs some serious help before she can be a suitable guardian, and my dad isn’t the best candidate. I take a deep breath in and let it out. One thing at a time. I look down at the sandwich warming my fingers. Food, then seeing my mom, then the rest.

What felt overwhelming before is starting to seem a lot more manageable. I catch a flash of a smile from Emmett. Maybe he was right, maybe this isn’t so bad when I have someone to lean on.