Chapter 8 #3
Across from Grant and Vivian, Auden sits by himself, chewing on his lip. He looks nervous and out of place, but he’s there anyway, and even though I’m all upside down right now, I can’t help but respect that.
It hits me with a pang that I might’ve realized what I want… but I haven’t taken into account what Ames wants.
And the idea that Ames might prefer to have Auden here… well, it makes me feel like flinging myself right back into the fire.
Vivian spots me first. She jumps up from her seat and throws herself against me, enveloping me in the scent of lavender and honey. “Oh, honey. Are you okay?”
“Me? I’m fine. I’m—” My voice cracks. “I’m so sorry, Vivian. I should’ve gotten to him sooner. I should’ve kept him from going into the building in the first place?—”
She pulls back and leans up, cupping my face in two small hands. “Hush now. No one could take better care of my boy than you do. No one .” Her eyes are wet. “And he’s okay! He is. Eliza knows almost all the ER staff. She told us a few minutes ago that he’s stable. Right, Anna?”
“Absolutely,” Anna confirms. “He’s in the best hands, Rob. Promise.”
“Thank you.” My voice cracks a little. “For checking on me, Anna. I?—”
Small, cool hands frame my cheeks. “Hush. Of course. You’re family. I’ve gotta get back upstairs, but I’m a phone call away, okay?”
I nod, not trusting my voice. Family .
When she slips away, Ames’s dad surprises me with a brief, hard hug, though Grant’s not usually a demonstrative man.
Beckett, Ames’s eldest sibling, does too.
True—the middle Axford—stays silent, which is his thing, but the look in his eyes is pure empathy.
It says he knows what it’s like to feel totally adrift… which is probably accurate.
I take a seat next to Auden, who blinks up at me in surprise and then frowns.
“Um. Are you… okay?” He gives a pointed glance at my hands.
I look down and see that my right hand’s a mess. Singe marks and tiny, bleeding cuts cover me from fingertips to wrist. I can’t imagine how I got them— where the hell are my gloves? —and I don’t really feel them.
“I’m good,” I say. Inside, I add, as long as Ames is .
Minutes crawl by, or maybe hours or years, I have no idea.
Eliza comes back with more vague assurances. Anna texts offering support, and so do Hugh and Delphi.
Someone—Griffin, I think—fetches coffee for everyone, and I drink mine without tasting it.
James calls to say the fire’s finally under control.
The structure was a total loss, but they contained it so that it didn’t spread to the surrounding woods.
There were no signs of anyone inside the building, thank fuck.
He also mentions that Greene’s here at the hospital with a badly bruised femur, but his family’s with him and sending James updates.
I nod along and give what I hope are appropriate responses, but I feel like my mind’s disconnected from my body. Like I’m Dr. Colburn’s cat clock, tick- schlocking along again, out of step with the rest of the world .
Then a doctor finally appears. “Who’s here for Ames Axford?”
A dozen heads swing in her direction.
“Wow. Okay. All of you. Well, he’s stable,” she says, and the whole room lets out a breath.
“Took a while because we were doing a concussion protocol and a CT. But the good news is, the CT scan came back clear, and he has no internal injuries. He has a fractured collarbone and a concussion, though, so we’ll keep him under observation for at least twenty-four hours. ”
“Is he awake?” Vivian rises to her feet. “Can we see him?”
The doctor nods. “He needs rest, so no more than two visitors right now.” She hesitates. “He’s asking for someone named Robbie?”
Everyone looks at me, but Vivian nods like it’s entirely unexceptional. “Come on, Rob, sweetheart. You and I will go.”
We follow her through the big doors, past a nurse’s desk, through a rabbit warren of hallways. My heart’s pounding so hard I swear the doctors could monitor it without equipment.
Finally, she stops outside a curtained alcove. “He’s on some pain meds, and they’re making him tired,” she warns. “Don’t be alarmed if he falls asleep on you.” She opens the curtain a few feet. “Mrs. Axford, I had a couple quick questions about your son’s medical history, if you don’t mind?”
Vivian hangs back to talk to her while I hurry through the curtain.
Ames is propped up in the hospital bed, looking unnaturally pale against the white sheets. His arm’s strapped to his chest, he’s hooked up to a billion monitors, and he looks exhausted, but his gorgeous blue eyes are open. And when he sees me, they light up.
“Hi, there,” he says with a dreamy sigh.
I run a hand over my forehead and let out this sound that’s halfway between a hiccup and a laugh. Relief crashes through me like a tidal wave.
“Amesie.” I can’t stop my face from breaking into a huge smile, and I duck my head to wipe my eyes on the shoulder of my T-shirt. “You asshole. You scared the shit out of me.”
“Sorry.” His eyes shut for a second, and he tries to hold up the arm that has the IV in it, then grimaces in discomfort. “Scared the shit outta me too.”
“I bet.” I rush forward to guide his hand back down onto his pillows… and I don’t let go, keeping my hand on him if only to convince myself he’s actually here and safe. “How are you feeling?” I demand.
“Like a wall fell on me?” Ames snickers tiredly at his own joke. His eyes open a little more, and he scans me up and down. “You’re okay?”
I’m perfect , I want to say . Time’s restarted itself now. I’m back in my body.
“Yeah.” My throat’s tight. “I’m good.”
“Good.” His eyes have trouble focusing and close on a slow blink as he murmurs, “M’sorry.”
“Nah, Amesie. It’s okay. Nothing to worry about. You can sleep now.”
“Yeah.” He sighs again. “You’re the best thing… in my life… y’know, Rob?”
My chest constricts, but I laugh and squeeze his hand. “Yeah? Well, back atcha. ”
“Love hearing you happy.” His voice is slurred with sleep.
I grin, though he’s not looking at me. I know Ames loves me. Would probably murder for me. Would definitely help me hide a body. But I’m still enjoying the fuck out of him being all sappy and poetic.
“You’re my whole heart,” Ames says, eyes still closed. He licks his lips. “Alllways.”
I let out another choked laugh, but Vivian, who’s just bustled through the curtain, sucks in a breath like Ames said something shocking.
I don’t get what I missed.
“Ames, honey.” Vivian steps to the other side of the bed and smooths a hand over his cheek. “I’m here. Sleep now.”
“Mom.” Ames smiles a little but doesn’t open his eyes. “Good. Take… take care o’Rob for me, yeah?”
Vivian darts a glance at me. “Of course. You know I love Robbie.”
“Not like I love’m,” Ames mumbles. His face melts into a smile that’s almost sad. “Wish it could be Auden. Wanted it to be. But… s’always been Rob for me.”
The world stops for a second, and my heart jolts hard in my chest.
Is he saying…?
No . Ames is out of it. More than half-asleep, thanks to the pain and the pain meds. He doesn’t know what he’s saying any more than he did a few years ago at Hugh’s birthday party, when he got vodka-drunk and told me he was Gordon Ramsay’s “spiritual love child.”
But Vivian’s not acting like it’s gibberish. She’s touching Ames’s face urgently, like she’s not sure whether she wants to wake him up or for him to finally nod off. “Hush, Ames. Hush now, honey.”
“Ames,” I say hoarsely. “Do you?—?”
His eyes flutter open, and I’m treated to another glimpse of blue. “Don’ leave me,” he orders, staring directly at me.
As if I would. As if I could.
“I won’t,” I say roughly. “You won’t be alone for a minute. Promise.”
“Good.” His eyes drift closed. “Don’t tell anyone, m’kay, Mom? Robbie can’ever know.”
When his mouth goes slack with sleep, I manage to look away and let out a shuddering breath. Then I turn to Ames’s mother.
“Vivian.” I clear my throat. “What he said just now…”
“Babbled, you mean.” Vivian laughs lightly as she fusses with his blankets. But she won’t meet my eyes, and that feels like an answer in and of itself.
She takes a deep breath and comes around to my side of the bed.
“He’ll probably be out for a while now, sweetie, so why don’t you go get those hands looked at?
Then you can come back. We’ll take shifts, I think.
” She manages a smile. “Boy, he’s gonna be a bear when he wakes up, isn’t he?
But at least he will wake up.” She lifts on her tiptoes and kisses my cheek. “Thanks to you.”
I nod numbly and walk out of the little alcove feeling like the ground beneath me’s shifted, realigning things in a completely unexpected way.
Leaving me wrong-footed and unsure. Lost.
The same but absolutely—incredibly—different.