Chapter 46
Cole
Lucy has just said she’s in love with us.
Not to us, but to her mother, which is arguably harder. And means something more.
My mind is a field of fireworks, synapses firing and flaring, making it hard to wrangle my thoughts. The first and most pressing thing to consider is the fact that my vision is blurring, little dots swimming at the fringes.
I realize, with a start, that it’s because I’ve stopped breathing. Maybe it’s the instinct to stand still, to absorb the moment even though Lucy is gone. Or maybe it’s the fact that what she just said hit me square in the chest, like a shock for cardiac arrest.
Clear.
Lucy is in love with us.
This isn’t just a phase for her. Unlike the rich asshole, pretty young girl dynamic shown on TV, this isn’t a transaction. Of course, somewhere in my brain, I was aware of that. Now, though, it’s a fact, spoken into existence by the woman I love.
And it’s not just me she loves, but all of us.
I turn and look at Nico and Dane, who look equally as affected by this admission from her.
Seeing their expressions makes me realize that this is something I’ve waited for, almost intentionally.
All the other women that didn’t feel quite right, all the pressure to settle down—I’d wondered, briefly, if I was aromantic, maybe asexual.
But that wasn’t the case. I was just waiting for Lucy, for a woman who could take all of us. Both metaphorically, and physically, it turns out.
It’s the perfect ending I’d not even known enough to imagine.
And now she’s disappeared down the hallway, into one of the rooms, no doubt determined to see her brother before her parents have her removed. And they can—Augustus is a minor, which means they get to make decisions for him. They can keep her from seeing him until he’s an adult, if they want to.
If we don’t find a way to fix this thing.
Moving before thinking, I step toward Lucy’s mother, who flinches in response, and hold my hand out to her, “Mrs. Lancaster. I’m Dr. Cole Davenport, and I’m in love with your daughter. I believe we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot.”
Lucy’s mother, shriveled and shaken in her panic, stares up at me with wide eyes. She grasps at the tissue in her hand—which is gross, frankly—like it’s a rosary.
Then, to my shock, she reaches out and slides her palm against mine. I’ll definitely have to wash my hands now, but it’s a start. It’s movement toward what Lucy wants more than anything—to keep us, and her family.
“Nico Hawthorne,” my best friend says, sweeping forward with his usual charisma, taking her hand and shaking it as well. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, though I wish it was under different circumstances. Did you take the helicopter?”
“Yes,” she chokes, hands and voice shaking. “I rode with Augustus, but Brett—”
At that moment, there’s a paternal growl from behind us.
“What the hell is going on here?”
I turn to find Dane swinging around, facing Lucy’s father, Brett, who is breathing hard and clutching a set of car keys in white knuckles. There are two teenagers behind him, twins, it looks like, staring at us with wide eyes and pale faces.
Therese and Thomas, likely.
“Brett,” Lucy’s mom—Angela, if I remember correctly—says, her voice still trembling. “They paid for Augustus to get here. It’s—”
“It’s a fucking joke, that’s what it is,” Brett bellows, his eyes darting to mine. “You shouldn’t be here.”
The nurse at the front desk looks up, her eyes sharp. “You will keep your voice down and watch your language. People are trying to heal in this unit.”
Brett blusters for a moment, then goes to step around Dane. Dane shifts to the side, blocking his path, and for a second, I think he’s going to hit the man. Dane’s talked about it, after the fucker, even accidentally, hit his daughter, saying it would be a fair trade.
But Dane doesn’t draw back. Instead, he holds out his hand.
“Mr. Sullivan, I’m Dane Rourke. I am in love with your daughter, and she’s in love with me.
With the three of us. I’d like to get to know you.
If there’s anything I can do to facilitate your understanding, I will.
She doesn’t deserve to be cut off from her siblings simply for who she loves, and how she chooses to love them. ”
He blinks at Dane, and I’m sure that last bit doesn’t land right. Brett Sullivan doesn’t seem like the kind of man who responds well to love is love messaging.
For a long moment, it’s a stalemate. Angela stares at her husband, Nico and I stare at Dane. The two teens behind Lucy’s father take in the scene like it’s from one of those reality TV shows Lucy likes.
Then, improbably, Brett relaxes almost imperceptibly. Slowly, skittish like a wild animal, he reaches out and takes Dane’s hand in his. Brett’s voice is rough, low, approaching with caution. “…you sent the helicopter?”
“Yes. Lucy loves Auggie very much,” Dane says, shaking the other man’s hand a little too hard. “And we love Lucy.”
Therese lets out a little giggle, and her brother gives her wide, shut up eyes.
Angela starts to cry harder, and the teens move in to hug her. Brett, to his credit, moves to hug her as well. Then, reluctantly, he shakes both mine and Nico’s hands, too.
He’s relenting, but not fully. Not admitting his fault before, but perhaps ready to move forward. It’s something.
Good job, punk. I blink at the sound of Claire’s voice in my head and realize it’s the first time she’s come as praise, and not direction. It’s the first time I’ve heard her voice in a few days, actually. Now, she comes less and less frequently.
Which causes a mild sense of panic, but also… relief? Like, maybe she deserves to rest now, if I can let her go.
I did this of my own volition. I stepped in and started us on the path to resolution. Somehow, some way, I was ahead of both Dane and Nico in doing the best thing, socially.
The realization makes me feel at once gratified and also drained.
“Where is Augustus now?” Brett harrumphs, uncrossing his arms and turning to peer down the long, white hallway behind us. Gentle beeping crowds the space like the various stretchers, carts, and computers.
Surely, there’s no way she could have heard her father, but Lucy comes bouncing out of the room, her face streaked with tears, but happy.
“He’s—Auggie is awake!” she cries through a smile. Lucy bounces on her heels once, then turns and disappears back into the room.
And, completely ignoring the four-person rule, the rest of us hurry down the hallway, joining her.