Chapter Four
CHAPTER FOUR
GARRETT
After five days in the hospital, I’m restless and ready to get the hell out of here. I’m still suffering from headaches and sensitivity to bright light, but I don’t get dizzy every time I stand up, which is good because the doctor is finally comfortable letting me go home.
When he discharges me, I’m buzzing with eager energy to escape the confines of my hospital bed. He gives me a long list of precautions and rules for my recovery, but he could tell me I need to shave my balls and dip them in lemon juice every day and I’d agree if it got me out of here faster.
Christian and Haven arrive to pick me up, and when my sister walks through the door to my room, her eyes fill with tears. Before she hurries to me, wrapping me into a warm embrace. She’s been doing that every time she’s seen me since my accident.
“How are you feeling?” she asks, instantly going into mother hen mode. As she looks me over, as if looking for fresh injuries.
“I’m good,” I assure her with a smile. “I promise. You don’t have to worry about me.”
She gives me an exasperated look that reminds me so much of our mom that my heart flips.
“Of course I’m going to worry,” she insists. “You’re my big brother, and I love you. I’m always going to worry about you, just like I worry about Christian and Oliver. You’re my boys.”
It’s hard to argue with that, so I just give her a kiss on her forehead. “All right, I understand. Still, don’t stress yourself out. Think of the baby.”
“Oh, don’t you get fussy over me.” She sighs, waving her hand dismissively. “I’m fine.”
“Don’t want me to worry about you?” I tease. “Bit hypocritical of you, sis.”
Haven rolls her eyes and huffs out a breath of frustration. “Don’t be an ass. Let’s get you to our house before I break your other arm.”
“Your house? Why am I going to your house?”
She frowns up at me. “So we can take care of you. Duh.”
I glance over at Christian with an arched brow. “She’s joking, right?”
He shrugs before letting out a soft chuckle. “Afraid not, buddy. The wife wants you to come home with us so she can fuss over you, and what the wife wants, she gets.”
Shit.
Haven gives me a smug look, and it’s clear that there’s no way I’m going to get out of this. “That’s right—what the wife wants, the wife gets.”
“I’m not a little kid, Haven. I can take care of myself.”
“Weren’t you just saying that I needed to think of my baby?” she says. “I’m doing just that. If you don’t come home with us, it’s going to stress me out. You don’t want that, do you?”
That’s a low blow.
Clenching my teeth, I fight down the frustration bubbling up inside me.
“Playing that card, huh?”
“Yeah, I am,” she snaps. “Garrett, seriously, you have a fractured shoulder and a concussion. You’re out of your mind if you think I’m going to leave you be alone right now. So, are you going to willingly come home with us, or am I moving in with you while you recover?”
I glance back at Christian, who looks startled.
“Woah, Haven, sweetheart,” he says. “We didn’t talk about you staying with Garrett…”
And I definitely don’t want her in my house.
“Enough, already,” I grumble. “I’ll come home with you guys, okay? Everyone just relax.”
Haven looks pleased at my acquiescence.
“Good choice,” she grins. “Let’s get going.”
Gathering the few things I have with me, I drop into the wheelchair that’s been brought for me and allow myself to be wheeled out of the building. Christian pulls up his truck, and after helping Haven inside, he moves to help me as well.
“Don’t you dare,” I growl, giving him a pointed look.
He puts up his hands in surrender. “You got it, buddy.”
Easing into the backseat takes a moment. I’m awkward and clumsy when it comes to moving around because my arm and chest are both cast to keep my shoulder stable. But damn it, I’m determined to do it myself. I don’t need to be babied. At least within the next two weeks, the doctor will hopefully remove the cast and get me into a sling instead.
That should make things easier.
As we drive to their sprawling acreage outside of town, I sit back and half-listen as Haven chats away in the front seat. She can fill the silence. That’s no problem for me. I’m already tired and don’t have the energy to be engaging or social. Plus, the sunlight stings, so I close my eyes. Once we get to their house, Haven walks me inside and ushers me into the living room.
“Sit down,” she orders, pointing to the couch. “I’ll go get you something to eat and drink. You must be starving after three days of hospital food.”
I can’t argue with that. “That sounds good. Thanks.”
“Oliver will be at daycare for a few more hours, so we can get you settled before he comes in with his crazy toddler energy,” she explains.
I chuckle at the thought of Oliver coming in with nothing but excitement as he tells everyone he sees about his day at daycare. The boy doesn’t lack energy, that’s for sure. “I look forward to his wild toddler energy.”
She smiles and I can see the relief in her eyes before she turns and hurries off to the kitchen. That makes me feel a little better about being strong-armed into this arrangement. If it puts my sister’s mind at ease, I can put up with a few days of babying, but just a few.
Haven will drive me batshit crazy if I let this go on for too long.
Christian comes into the room and settles into an armchair next to the couch.
Sighing, he looks at me. “Thanks for agreeing to stay here. Haven wasn’t going to let the issue drop if you kept saying no.”
“I’m aware,” I snort. “I’ve been dealing with her stubborn ass a lot longer than you have, remember? She’s a caretaker, though. She took on that role for our mom, and I don’t suppose it’s something she can give up on that easily.”
“Yeah, that’s a good point,” Christian murmurs, glancing toward the door leading to the kitchen, where we can hear Haven busying herself with whatever she’s cooking. “I’ve been working on convincing her that it’s okay for people to take care of her now and then, but it’s not an easy thing for her, sitting back and not taking care of everyone around her. Hell, even taking these few days off from work so she could be in Houston at the hospital with you has made her a little stir crazy.”
It’s one of my sister’s best and worst qualities. She can be so selfless and caring, but she sometimes takes it too far and forgets about her own wellbeing. When Mom got sick, Haven dedicated pretty much her entire life to taking care of her and the rest of us. She insisted she didn’t need a relationship of her own or a real life of her own—she was perfectly happy with her self-appointed role as caretaker. I’d always wanted more for her. A family of her own, someone to love and take care of her, and our mom wanted that too.
Thankfully, Haven met Christian, and though their relationship didn’t start off as a love story (more a mutually-beneficial business arrangement), it ended that way. Was it difficult to wrap my head around my sister and best friend being together? Yes, yes, it was. Do I still cringe and want to throw up a little when they get lovey-dovey with each other? One hundred percent. But my sister is happy, and I know Christian adores her, and ultimately, that’s what matters most.
“So,” Christian continues, breaking through my runaway thoughts. “What are your plans now?”
“What do you mean?”
He shrugs a shoulder. “Do you still want to go back to working in the oil fields once you’re healed up?”
The question catches me off guard a little.
“I, uh, haven’t really thought about it.”
Christian leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees.
He gives me a thoughtful look before saying, “I think you should take this time and think about what you really want to do.”
I frown, confused. “You don’t want me to go back to work?”
It’s something I’d expect to hear from my friend, but Christian is also technically my boss, so I’m kind of surprised by the suggestion.
“That’s not it,” he answers. “You’re a damn good worker, and the company will definitely be worse off without you, but is it really what you want to do with your life?”
“Where’s this coming from?” I ask with a frown, as I watch him glance towards the doorway of the kitchen before leaning closer to me.
“Haven told me that this isn’t what you wanted to do with your life, Garett. You had dreams at one point in time.”
I can’t help the little scoff that leaves me as I shake my head. Of course, Haven would tell Christian about that kind of thing. “None of that matters, Christian. My dreams didn’t pay the bills… the oil field does.”
“Well,” he says with a pause, his smile widening. “Lucky for you…you’re going to be on disability for a while, and the company will be covering your medical bills and providing workers comp, so you don’t have to worry about anything financially. You really could take this time to figure out what might be next for you. Of course, you don’t have to. You can absolutely come back to work when you’re better. I just want you to know that if you did want to do something else with your life, I’ll support you”
“That’s a brilliant idea! You could finish your degree!”
Christian and I both turn, surprised, to find Haven standing just inside the doorway of the room. She’s holding a tray with a sandwich and sparkling water, her eyes wide and bright with excitement.
“My degree?”
She hurries over to me, setting the tray down on the coffee table before sitting next to me.
“You were so close to finishing,” she says, grabbing my hand and squeezing it. “I know stepping away from school to help pay for Mom’s medical bills and keep us all afloat was really hard for you, but now is your chance to go back and finish what you started!”
I nearly laugh at the idea. Me? Back in school?
“Haven, I’m thirty-seven.” I shake my head. “Who goes back to school at my age, after so long? I’d look ridiculous hanging around all those twenty-something college students.”
“You could do it online,” she suggests. “You only need, what? One or two more classes to get your full credits? An English elective and a final finance class?” She suddenly gasps, her excitement doubling as some realization hits her. “You could study at the library and have Marie help you!”
At the mention of Marie’s name, my heart races and my blood heats. I drop my gaze to try and hide it. I haven’t seen Marie since my first night in the hospital. When she’d shown up, I’d been so happy to see her, it had caught me off guard. I did my best to act like I normally would around her because I didn’t want to make things weird or awkward with everyone else around. She’d been so beautiful, her dark hair slightly mussed and cheeks pink, wearing black leggings that had shown off her shapely legs and perfect ass and, despite how much pain I’d been in, my cock stirred.
The memory floods me with guilt. I can’t be having those types of thoughts—not about her. I made a promise, and there are some lines I just can’t cross…
“That’s not necessary,” I insist. “Marie’s a busy woman, and that’s her place of work. I don’t want to burden her?—.”
“You don’t need to worry about that,” Haven replies quickly. “She’ll be able to help you with your English course, because, let’s be honest, that was never your strong suit. She’s already helping Ally with her college applications and SAT prep, so you could probably just hop in on their sessions together. I’m sure Ally won’t mind. Besides, it’s not like you’re going to be able to type yourself, or even stare at a computer screen for long with your concussion. It’ll be good just to have someone around to help you when you need it, and it’d be difficult for Christian and I to be available because of our jobs. It’ll be easier for Marie. I’ll give Marie a call and get everything arranged!”
She hops up with surprising agile for a pregnant woman and hurries out of the room before I can untie my tongue and object. Christian chuckles from his chair as I lean back slightly on the couch, turning my narrowed gaze to him.
“Shut up,” I mumble. “Your wife is a crazy person.”
“She’s not wrong though.”
I can’t help but frown, as my gaze deepens. “No?”
“Why not finish your degree?” Christian leans back and crosses one leg over the other. “It was a finance degree, right? There’d be a place for you in the company with a degree like that. Higher up, administrative, better pay… I would seriously consider it if I were you.”
I have to admit, that is some solid motivation. Not having to break my back on the oil rig—not having to spend weeks away from home at a time—it’s definitely tempting.
“Fine… I’ll think about it.”
He smiles, satisfied with my response. “That’s all I ask. Now, eat your sandwich and relax. I’ll go try to rein in Haven.”
“Good luck,” I chuckle as he gets up to walk out of the room.
Alone, I think about Christian’s offer more seriously and wonder if maybe this accident might have been a blessing in disguise. A chance to reset my life and do something more.
I mean, really, what do I have to lose?
* * *
A couple nights later, after Haven, Christian, and Oliver have turned in for the night, I’m left alone in the living room restless and not ready to go up to my own bed yet, the soft hum of the heater the only sound in the otherwise quiet house. My shoulder aches with a dull, persistent throb, and my head and neck are killing me, but I grit my teeth and ignore it. The pain reminds me I'm grounded here for a while, whether or not I like it. As much as I appreciate Haven’s concern and her insistence on taking care of me, I’ve come to appreciate night time when I can actually have some real alone time.
I look around at the empty space; at Christian’s bookshelves lined with titles about business, oil fields, and economics—subjects he’s lived and breathed for years. He always made it look easy. Me? I was the one out there getting my hands dirty, fixing machines and working the rig. Christian was capable of doing all that too, and would often go out and get his hands as dirty as mine, but the main difference between us has always been that he doesn’t have to do that. He doesn’t have to work the rig himself. He could easily stay in his fancy office and delegate all that to other people. I don’t have any choice—it’s the only work I’m able to fall back on. Or, that’s what I’ve believed for a long time now.
Am I really capable of more?
With a sigh, I open my laptop and pull up Google. “Online finance programs,” I type with one hand, and hundreds of results flood the screen. It feels strange even considering this. It’s been so long since I stepped away from school… can I really go back? What if it’s too difficult and I fail?
What if I succeed?
I scroll through a few pages; the programs blurring together, the screen’s brightness stinging my eyes. I turn it down, but still need to take breaks and look away from the screen often. Finally, I find a program that’s practical, fully online, and has decent reviews. There’s a flexible schedule too, which means I could fit it in around my physical therapy sessions. I click on the “Apply Now” button and start filling out the form. My fingers hesitate on the keys a few times, like my brain can’t keep up with what I’m doing. Name, contact information, previous education—all pretty standard stuff. When I get to the section that asks about why I’m applying, I pause. The empty box seems to stare back at me, waiting for an answer I’m not even sure of myself.
“Why finance?” I mutter, leaning back and rubbing my jaw. Numbers make sense to me. They always have. There’s a comfort in knowing that two plus two will always be four, and that if there’s a problem with numbers, it can be solved. I enjoy being the one to solve those problems.
I type out a few lines about wanting to broaden my skills and contribute more meaningfully to the business world, though the words feel stilted. At the end, I find myself adding a more honest thought: I’m ready to try something new, to take a step forward that I’ve put off for too long.
Fuck, this one-handed bullshit is so frustrating. It takes me nearly thirty minutes to fill everything out, when it should’ve taken me half that.
With one last look over the application, I click submit. A confirmation email appears in my inbox almost immediately, congratulating me on the first step toward my new future. It’s a small thing, just an email, but seeing it there feels oddly satisfying.