Chapter 31
Shawn felt a hand gently clasp his shoulder, and he looked up from where he’d buried his head in his palms to see Hanna standing over him with misty eyes.
“Shawn,” she whispered.
Shawn stood up, and Hanna tugged him into a hug. He buried his face onto her shoulder, even though she was much shorter than him, and let his tears flow freely. Seeing them here—his best friends—made him breathe a sigh of relief.
He didn’t know if Grams would be okay.
He didn’t know what was next.
He felt like a failure of a grandson.
But he wasn’t alone in this bright white, clorox-smelling waiting room anymore.
Tucker tugged them both into a hug, and the three of them held each other in silence for a few moments.
“It’s my fault,” Shawn said, uttering the words out loud that had been echoing in his head for the past hour.
“Don’t say that, Shawn,” Hanna replied. “That’s not true.”
“I should’ve been with her,” he said, stepping back and wiping his eyes. “If I was with her, it might not have been so bad. I don’t even know how long she was laying on the floor before I found her.”
“Shawn,” Tucker said. “You can’t be with her all the time.”
“I could be with her more,” he said. “Instead of being with?—”
“Nope,” Hanna said, cutting him off. “We’re not doing that. You aren’t going to rob yourself of happiness so you can constantly watch over Ida. She wouldn’t want that. She wants you to be happy. Plus, if you were constantly keeping an eye on her, I’m pretty sure it’d drive her crazy.”
Hanna gave him a weak smile, and he blew out a breath. Somewhere, in the depths of his mind, he knew she was right. But he couldn’t stop feeling guilty.
“I didn’t find her right away,” he told them. “I was too wrapped up in my own shit. Then I heard her moan.”
“You got her here,” Tucker said. “That’s what matters.”
Shawn sat back down and buried his hands in his head, trying not to play through every single what-if that was running through his mind.
It was torture.
What if he’d been there?
What if he’d found her sooner?
What if he’d never been out with Willa at all?
Hanna sat next to him and threw her arm around him.
“Where’s Willa?” she asked. “How’d the date go?”
He instantly deflated.
“Don’t tell me it went bad. Tuck made some of his best food for that date.”
Shawn chuckled humorlessly.
He’d meant it when he told Willa he’d give her regards to the chef.
That chef was Tucker. He’d had his own restaurant for a few years, and his seafood was the best in the entire county. When he called Tuck that morning to see if he could whip up some food for their date, he enthusiastically agreed.
“The date went great,” Shawn said. “Perfect, actually. Better than I could’ve dreamed. And she loved your food, Tuck.”
“‘Course she did,” he responded with a smirk.
“But then we got back to her house and her ex was there. And she asked me to leave so she could talk to him.”
Hanna frowned. “And you haven’t heard from her since then?”
Shawn shook his head. “Called her a bunch. Left a voicemail.”
“Well, we’re here, bud,” Tucker said. “All night and all day tomorrow if you need us.”
“Thanks, man,” Shawn said, only now realizing Hanna and Tucker were still in their pajamas.
“Why don’t you go find a vending machine and get us some snacks, babe?” Hanna said, her hand gently rubbing Shawn’s back as she directed her question toward Tucker.
“Sure thing.”
Willa didn’t bother callingShawn back.
Not when it would take time away from her actually getting to him.
She plugged the hospital into her phone’s map, hopped in the car, and gunned it.
Shawn didn’t need empty words. He needed her there. And she felt like the absolute worst girlfriend for not being there. For missing this.
If he’d still have her, that is.
She tried to bury that worry and focus on finding Shawn. Luckily, small town hospitals were more compact and easier to navigate. She asked someone about Ida Gray immediately upon walking in and was directed to the ER waiting room.
She bustled down a long hallway until she saw the waiting room come into view.
And she came to a stop.
Shawn—still clad in his outfit from their date—was laying his head on the shoulder of a short brunette. One of her arms was stretched around his back, and her other hand was in his. His eyes were closed, but she could tell he’d been crying.
Willa wanted nothing more than to pull him into her arms and hold him.
To tell him she was sorry.
To explain why she had to ask him to leave.
To promise him that she was here—that she was his.
And yet, her eyes settled on where their hands were connected.
Willa’s heart was pounding so loud she could hear it.
Her stomach dropped, thinking back to that treacherous day when she saw Leo out with his wife.
But what she felt now—instead of clarity of thought and the desire for revenge—was utter despair.
Sadness, unlike anything she’d ever felt before.
Anxiety and fear, manifesting in the form of nausea and light-headedness.
And hope.
Hope that maybe there was some sort of explanation. Some reason why a woman she didn’t know was comforting a man she’d fallen in love with.
But then, the brunette looked up at her.
Smirked.
Squeezed Shawn’s hand.
Whispered in his ear.
Willa’s breath caught.
Shawn looked up, eyes bloodshot.
And she couldn’t take it anymore.
Turning on her heel, she ran back down the hallway where she came. It felt like she was standing in front of Chadwick’s all over again, watching a man she trusted share an intimate moment with someone who wasn’t her.
“Willa, wait!”
The tears were pouring now.
She wanted to throw up.
Willa knew—most of her really knew—that Shawn wasn’t Leo.
But she couldn’t stop running.
Not when it felt the same.
Not when it felt even worse.
“WILLA,” Shawn was shouting now. “STOP, PLEASE!”
She choked on a sob and kept running.
Shawn hadno other thoughts besides explaining himself to Willa.
When Hanna whispered in his ear, “I think your girl’s here,” part of him couldn’t believe it.
He looked up, and there she was.
Utter perfection.
Then, he saw her face crumple a split second before she turned around and ran. And he realized what she was looking at—him with another woman. A woman she didn’t know, in a scene that probably threw her back to those months ago when she found that scumbag of a boyfriend with his wife.
He muttered an expletive under his breath before chasing after her.
They were causing a scene, but he didn’t care.
He needed Willa.
And he needed her to understand.
He was on her heels now, so he shouted her name again, then added,” That’s my best friend’s wife!”
She slowed.
“Hanna,” Shawn said as he caught up to her. “That’s her name. She married my best friend, Tucker, a couple years back.”
Willa turned around, her face wet with tears.
“She’s not… She’s just a friend,” Shawn said, approaching her slowly. “A good friend. Basically a sister. That’s it. I promise.”
Willa took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and tipped her head back.
“You can talk to her, look at my phone, whatever you need to believe me,” he said. “I promise, she’s just a friend.”
She opened her eyes, a hint of shame and sorrow radiating from her.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “For thinking you’d…”
“It’s okay,” Shawn said, wiping her tears away and tugging her into a hug. “It’s okay.”
She wrapped her arms around him and he laid his cheek on top of her head.
This was what he wanted all night—to hold her, feel her in his arms, to sit with her while he waited for an update on Grams.
“Shawn,” Hanna’s voice pierced through the silence. “The doctor says you can see Ida now.”
He pulled back and laid his forehead against Willa’s. “Come with me?”
She nodded.
He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward where Hanna was standing, waiting for them.
“Hanna, this is Willa,” Shawn said. “Willa, this is Hanna. One of my best friends.”
Hanna beamed at Willa. “It’s so nice to meet you. I mean, shitty circumstances. But he won’t shut up about you. We’ve been begging him to bring you over for dinner.”
“Her husband, Tucker, was the one who made our dinner tonight,” Shawn said. “He owns the restaurant I told you about.”
“Well, then count me in for dinner anytime,” Willa said. “Nice to meet you, Hanna.”
“Let’s chat more later. I want to know all the things. But first, let’s get back to Ida.”
Hanna led the way, and Shawn and Willa followed, hand-in-hand, until they were back in the room where the doctor was waiting for them.
“Wyatt?” Willa asked as they approached.
Shawn grinned, realizing it was Mary’s grandson, from Ida’s Bingo group. “I think it’s Dr. Wetherington around here.”
“Y’all can call me Wyatt,” he grinned. “Nice to see you again, Willa. How’s your friend, Charlie?”
“Why don’t we start with you telling us how Ida’s doing?” Willa responded.
“Fair enough,” Wyatt said. “All things considered, she’ll be alright. She has a broken wrist—probably from trying to catch herself when she fell. I won’t lie: that’ll be a bit of a tough recovery for someone her age. But we’ve put her in a cast, and we can explore rehab, if needed, once we take it off in about eight weeks. And she has a couple of bruised ribs, which should be fine in a few weeks. She was also pretty dehydrated when she came in. She’s not drinking nearly enough water, and my guess is, she’d been down for a while by the time you brought her in. I’d like to keep her overnight to monitor her, but she’ll be discharged in the morning.”
Shawn breathed a sigh of relief. “She’s okay?”
“She’s okay,” Wyatt said. “But it might be time to talk to her about using a walker.”
“She’ll never do it,” Shawn said immediately.
“It’ll help her get around. She doesn’t have to have it all the time. But it might be helpful for those moments when you’re not there.”
Shawn sighed. “I’ll try to talk her into it.”
Wyatt nodded. “Ready to see her?”
“Let’s do it,” Shawn responded, squeezing Willa’s hand.
“Perfect. Right this way.”
They followed Wyatt into a room where Grams was asleep in a hospital bed, her right hand in a cast. Shawn quickly moved over to the side of the bed and grabbed her left hand, then pushed some hair out of her face.
“She must’ve fallen asleep,” Wyatt said. “She was pretty exhausted when you brought her in, and the pain meds might have made her a bit drowsy. You can wait in here with her until she wakes up.”
Shawn grabbed two chairs and pulled them up to her bed, gesturing for Willa to take a seat before shaking Wyatt’s hand.
“Thanks, doc.”