Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
FOREST
‘If you could do anything besides teach,’ Dax asked me as he lounged in his chair, his feet kicked up on his table, ‘what would it be? Did you ever have a dream when you were a kid?’
I shrugged. ‘Egyptologist,’ I spelled carefully on my hands. My flare was still hanging around, but the bouts of stiffness were starting to abate. ‘But I don’t think that’s in my future.’
He snorted. ‘I’m pretty sure they don’t let random white dudes dig around in the pyramids anymore. I saw a documentary about the museum in Cairo trying to get back everything England stole.’
That wasn’t really my thing anyway. I’d spent two semesters studying in Italy, digging around Pompeii, then traveling over to Crete to check out the Minoan ruins, when I thought I was going to be the world’s best archaeologist who solved the mystery and broke the writing code of Linear A.
I’d wanted to go down in history as one of the greats.
But that was not in my cards now.
‘What else?’
I wrinkled my nose at him. ‘What did you want to be besides a mechanic?’
‘Drummer,’ he signed with a shrug. ‘I had a band, but we had a big falling out during our sophomore year of high school. After that…’ His brow furrowed in thought. ‘I was happy working on cars.’
I didn’t want to give up history, but I also knew that the pressure and stress of teaching would always put me at risk for a flare. And I couldn’t ask my students to put up with a professor who couldn’t be there in the way they needed him.
‘I might like to write a book.’ I bit my lip. ‘I’ve kicked around a fantasy world based on ancient history.’
‘Romance?’ Dax asked, waggling his brows.
I scoffed. ‘Some romance. Some action. War. Magic. Spies.’
‘Kiss-fist that,’ Dax signed. ‘I want to read now.’
‘Give me time,’ I answered back with a laugh. But the truth was, it wasn’t the worst idea, and I wasn’t lying. I had a dozen outlines of book ideas that hadn’t been written yet. At least, not in the way I’d want to read them.
And while typing might be hard, there were other ways to get words down on paper. It was something, at least. A goal I could work toward. Something that could give me hope while everything else felt a bit…bleak.
‘So,’ Dax said, waving to get my attention. ‘My brother knows about you and Nash.’
I groaned, covering my face for a second. ‘Yes. He showed up to that work barbecue. We got busted.’
Dax grimaced. ‘Angry-him?’
‘Hurt that Nash didn’t tell him,’ I corrected. ‘Maybe a little angry. Tameron was probably angrier. I have to tell my brother.’
‘When?’
I didn’t want to tell him, but only because I didn’t want to admit it to myself. ‘Today.’
Dax sucked in a breath. ‘Want me to help? Can be good back up in a fight.’
I snorted. ‘He’s not going to fight me. He’ll be angry at me, and probably Nash. But he cares about us both. It’ll take time for him to adjust.’
Dax made a soft humming noise of support in the back of his throat. ‘If you need me, I’m here.’
‘Champ-you,’ I signed and grinned. Then I lifted my hand to thank him when my phone began to buzz on the table. I held up a finger, asking him to wait a second. I looked at the screen and didn’t recognize the number, but it was local. And something in my gut told me to answer.
“Hello?”
“Hi. I’m looking for Forest Brockway.”
“Speaking.” My voice was trembling.
“Hello. I’m D’arcy Brandt. I’m a nurse over at Kentfield Hospital. Your husband was in an accident, and he was brought in.”
All the blood in my body pooled at my feet and my head began to swim. My ears were ringing, but I strained to hear her as I asked, “Is he okay?”
“He’s currently in surgery, but since you’re his emergency contact, it might be a good idea if you can get here as quickly as possible.”
I didn’t realize I’d dropped the phone until it hit the table with a clatter. Dax was waving at me frantically. I blinked at him slowly, my head fuzzy.
‘What happened? Are you going to faint?’
I shook my head and took a breath. ‘I need a ride to the hospital. There’s been an accident. Nash is hurt.’
Dax should’ve become a damn Formula One driver because he managed to get me across town in shitty mid-afternoon traffic in less time than it would have taken me with anyone else.
The drive felt like both ten seconds and ten hours had gone by, but before I was really aware of it, we were pulling under the overhang with the ER sign.
‘Want me to come in with you?’
I blinked slowly at him, then reached for my cane that was sitting between my legs. ‘I think I’ll be okay.’
‘If you’re sure… I won’t be able to follow along much, but I want to be here if you need me.’
I let out a puff of air and shook my head. I knew he’d only be uncomfortable waiting around for someone to clue him in on what was going on, and that wasn’t fair. ‘I’ll text you and keep you updated. Promise.’
He dragged me into a hug, then let me go so I could make my way inside. It was by miracle alone that my body wasn’t falling apart as I walked past the sliding doors and into the lobby. Maybe it was a mind-over-matter thing. Or maybe it was my adrenaline.
Either way, I was more than grateful for it because it allowed me to walk up to the nurse’s station and peer at the woman through the window.
“My…my husband was brought in,” I stammered. “Nash Brockway.”
She typed for a moment, then her eyes went soft.
Fan-fucking-tastic. That wasn’t a good look.
That was a pity look. A very, very bad pity look.
“He’s in surgery right now. Let me get you a visitor badge, and then I can buzz you in.
If you head to the left, you’ll find the OR waiting room, and I’ll leave a message for the surgeon that you’re here.
As soon as he’s out, he’ll come talk to you. ”
I swallowed heavily. “Oh. Um. Thanks.”
Her gaze softened even more. “Dr. Fraser does amazing work, okay. Your husband will be right as rain in no time.”
I was still in a fog when she handed me the sticker with my name on it, then buzzed me through, but my body held up as I walked down the short hallway and turned into the waiting room. There were three people inside, and it took me a moment to realize I recognized them.
Tameron was the first on his feet, rushing toward me and yanking me close. “Dayton got the call first,” he murmured against the side of my head. “I was with Bean when he let me know.”
“My brother—” I asked.
Tameron looked over at Bean, then at Dayton. “He knows. He was in San Jose for work, but he’s on his way.”
I couldn’t drop the bomb on him like this. Not now. Not while we were all going to be sitting here with our hearts in our throats waiting to make sure Nash was going to make it.
“Do you know what happened?”
“A car ran the light as the ambulance was crossing the intersection,” Dayton said softly. “They flipped a couple of times, and from what the other EMT told me, he has a pretty nasty break. Compound fracture,” he clarified.
I didn’t know a lot of medical stuff, but I knew that was the one where the bone was showing.
But those usually weren’t fatal, and so as long as he didn’t have any other internal injuries or anything wrong with his head, he’d heal.
I let out a trembling breath and made it to the chair to sit. Everyone’s gaze was heavy on me, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t. Not yet. Not until I knew he was okay.
“And you?” Tameron eventually asked. He pointed at my cane. “Bad day?”
I shrugged and passed a hand down my face. “It’s been bad since everyone found out. It’s a stress flare. I’ll get over it.”
“Shit. I’m so sorry,” Dayton started.
I shook my head and met his gaze. “No. That’s not on you. We should’ve been honest from the start. I just…”
My words died when a shadow appeared in the waiting room doorway, and when my vision cleared, I immediately set eyes on my brother. I shot to my feet as he walked up and swept me into a hug, his cane knocking into mine.
“What the fuck?” he asked, pulling back. His gaze was fixated on it.
“It’s a long story. I’ll explain later,” I tried.
His eyes narrowed and he looked over at Tameron. “Top’s alive?”
Tameron nodded.
“Going to survive?”
“Compound fracture. They’re repairing it now,” Dayton offered.
Creek’s gaze returned to me, and his hand shoved me back into my seat as he followed, grunting as his prosthetic creaked a little. “I have time. You’d better spill because I know something’s been going on and you’ve been hiding it from me.”
I let out a slow breath. “You really think this is the time?”
“I think whenever this happened”—he gestured at my cane—“was the time. But we’re here now.”
Fuck. Okay. It was now or never, I supposed. “A while back—a long while back—I started to notice weird symptoms. Fatigue, stiffness, seizures—”
“Seizures!”
“Let me finish,” I begged.
Creek bit the inside of his cheek so hard I could see it cave in. He let out a breath. “Fine. Go on.”
A sorry would have been nice, but whatever. I bowed my head. “After I moved here, it got worse. I thought it was work stress, but it became pretty obvious it wasn’t. After some really intense testing and a lot of time with a neurologist, it turns out I have FND.”
“Which is—”
“Functional Neurological Disorder. And I don’t have the energy to explain it all right now, okay? I’m exhausted and freaked out about Nash, and…and this has been a lot. It’s not terminal or anything, but it’s…also kind of forever. There’s no cure.”
He was quiet for a long beat. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you would’ve freaked out. I wanted to figure this out on my own. But things got complicated when the university found out, and I lost my—”
“Hello, gentlemen.”
My words died as I glanced up to see that a tall man with tan skin and brown hair tucked under a surgical cap had appeared. I shot to my feet.
“Which one of you is Mr. Brockway’s husband?”
“That’s me,” I said, unthinking.
“Excuse me?” Creek’s voice was dripping with shock.
My face paled, and I turned to him. “There’s more to my story.”
Creek stared, then started to stand, then sat back down again. When it was clear he wasn’t going to say anything, I turned back to the doctor.
“He’s okay, right?”
The doctor frowned but nodded. “He’s okay. He had a punctured lung and a compound fracture in his left femur. We’ve put in a pin to keep it in place, and he’s going to be here for a few days as we monitor him, but he should recover just fine. He’s healthy and in good shape.”
I let out a breath of relief, fighting the urge to cry. “Can we see him?”
The surgeon stared around the room, then said, “In about forty-five minutes. Two visitors at a time. You’re welcome to stay with him tonight,” he said to me. “The nurses can put together a cot for you if you’d like. Visiting hours end at seven.”
I wanted to hug him, but I didn’t. I stammered out a thank you, then watched him walk away before I turned to face my brother. He was sitting at the edge of his seat, staring down at the floor. Everyone in the room was dead silent, and I had no idea what to say.
“Creek—”
“Don’t,” he said. He swallowed heavily, then looked up. “How long have you two been…?” He didn’t need to say the word. I knew what he was asking.
Letting out a puff of air, I shrugged. “A little under two months.”
He glanced over at Bean, Tameron, and Dayton. “Who knows?”
Bean held up his hands. “I didn’t. I think…” His brows furrowed, but Tameron quickly reached over and squeezed his knee.
“You didn’t, bud. Day and I learned the other day at a get-together, when we ran into each other.”
Creek passed a hand down his face, then looked up at me. “Why? Why didn’t you…? Did you think I’d judge you? Did you think I’d be upset that you and Nash were—”
“No.” I shook my head so quickly I got dizzy. “Not about that. I got fired, okay? I got fired and lost my insurance, and Nash offered to help. It’s… He doesn’t love me. I’m not even sure he likes me that much.”
Tameron had an immediate coughing fit, but I was too afraid to look at him, and Creek looked like he was going to murder someone if he moved.
“So why hide it, then? Did you think I’d turn you in?”
“No. I just—”
“Do you think I’m some asshole who would ruin the life of his only brother and his best friend because you’re having a hard time? Did you think—”
“I didn’t tell you because of this!” I blurted, shouting before I remembered we were in a damn hospital.
Stumbling backward, I collapsed in a chair across from him as he deflated back into his seat.
“I didn’t tell you because you steamroll me and do whatever you think is best for me without asking.
You always have, and I knew I couldn’t deal with all this”—I gestured at my body, my hand shaking—“while also letting you take over my life.”
Creek blinked at me in the ringing silence left behind, then, without a word, he stood up and walked out.
“Shit,” I gasped. I tried to stand, but my legs were finally reacting to the stress, and I couldn’t seem to move them. “I didn’t mean—”
“Hey.” Dayton got up and moved next to me, pressing my cane into my hands. “Breathe.”
“I shouldn’t have said all that.” My voice was thready and too soft.
Dayton gripped my wrist and squeezed. “Sometimes we can’t say the hard stuff until we get backed into a corner.”
“It was too harsh,” I whispered.
“Was it? Or was it a lifetime of staying silent even when you were miserable to avoid making him unhappy?”
He’d clocked me with that one. I closed my eyes and bowed my head. “I need to talk to him. I need him to know I love him. I was just… I was afraid.”
“He knows,” Bean said, his voice carrying over the small distance between us.
“I don’t know your past or your history, and I haven’t been able to get to know you very well yet.
But I know your brother, and you are the most important thing to him.
He’s been working through a lot in therapy, okay? So maybe this hit close to home.”
I still should have handled it better, but I couldn’t make the words come to admit it aloud.
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I pulled up the ride app and immediately ordered a car. “I think I’m going to go.”
Tameron made a noise. “Uh. What about Nash?”
I looked at him. “He doesn’t need me right now. He needs you. His family.” The phone buzzed in my hand, letting me know there was a car two minutes away. With the help of my cane, I climbed to my feet.
“You’re his husband,” Tameron called as I stepped toward the doorway.
Glancing back over my shoulder, I put my phone in my pocket, rested the cane against the wall, and lifted my hands to sign. ‘The marriage isn’t real. It’s not me he needs. It’s the people he actually loves.’
And with that, I turned and walked as fast as my stiff legs would allow, promising myself that as soon as I was able, I would make everything right.