Chapter 25
Lawson
“I’m fine,” I tell my mother for the hundredth time.
She shushes me, fluffing my flat-as-can-be hospital pillow as Remi stands at the foot of my bed, a frown on his face.
‘A little help here?’ I sign discreetly his way.
‘You’re on your own,’ he shoots back, lips twitching ever so slightly before his concern returns.
“I know you’re talking about me,” our mother says, even though she didn’t see our conversation.
“Where’s Oak?” I ask, trying to keep the whine from my tone. “He was supposed to be back by now.”
Wendy, for her part, is sitting in the corner of the room, her eyes on me as they’ve been since she and the rest of my family barreled into the hospital. Oak stepped out to talk to his parents, but that was a good fifteen minutes ago.
“Is there a reason you want Oakley here instead of your own mother?” my mom asks, her amusement slipping in beside her dry tone.
“I assume that’s a rhetorical question?” I deadpan.
Remi barks a laugh before coughing when our mom shoots him a halfhearted glare.
“At least you’ll live,” she says to me. “Which is good because there are some things we need to discuss.”
I let out a sigh, knowing exactly what she’s talking about. “You’re a bunch of meddlers.”
“This is news?” Remi mumbles.
My mom steps back from my hospital bed, apparently satisfied with the fluffiness of my pillow. Her eyebrow raise is pointed.
“Not before I’ve talked to him,” I tell her.
Something lights in her eyes, happy and tear-bright, before she blinks it away. “Fair enough, dear.”
There’s a knock on the door, followed by Oakley stepping back inside. He must see the stark relief on my face because his expression softens. “Hey.”
“We’ll send the next two in,” my mom says, waving for Remi to join her. “Oakley, make sure he gets some rest tonight?”
“I’ll tie him down if I need to,” Oakley responds, the shit.
My mom blows me a quick kiss, Remi sends me a one-hand ‘I love you,’ and then they’re out the door, leaving us in relative quiet.
“How long have I been here?” I ask Oakley.
He checks the clock on the wall. “Few hours.”
“Sure you don’t mean days?”
He huffs a small laugh, walking over to the side of my bed. There’s a pinch in his brow I wish wasn’t there. “How’s the neck?”
“Stiff but not too bad,” I tell him truthfully. “When we get home, I want beef stew.”
That pinch smooths out, Oakley looking faintly amused. “That right? As it happens, I know a perfectly good cow.”
“You’re not talking about Belladonna,” Wendy says from the corner of the room, her tone indignant.
Oakley winces, his back to Wendy before he turns ever so slowly. “No?”
Wendy huffs, grabbing her phone and looking busy, even as there’s a tiny smirk on her face.
I chuckle, giving Oakley’s hand a tug. “When can I get out of here?”
“Nurse said you’ll need to stay the night—”
“Oak,” I groan.
He huffs again. “Lawson, it’s not my decision. Christ, don’t give me those fucking eyes.”
“My eyes?”
“You know damn well what they do to me,” he says. My heart patters, and Oakley lowers his voice, his gaze running softly over me. “As soon as I can get you home, I will. Just sit tight and rest.”
“Home,” I repeat, not sure if Oakley means the ranch or…his house.
Before I can ask, there’s another knock at the door. Jackson peeks his head in, Ash behind him.
“Oakley?” my brother says. “There’s an officer in the waiting room who’d like to get your statement real quick if you have a minute.”
“Sure,” Oakley answers, turning back my way and running his fingers through my hair, the simple touch making flutters set off in my stomach. He goes to step back, but I grab his hand before he can get far.
“Don’t be long?” I all but beg.
His smile is warm, eyes bright with something that looks a lot like hope. “I’ll be right back. Promise.”
I nod, and he steps past Jackson and Ash, the door shutting behind him.
“Well,” Ash says, a cheeky grin on his face. “Does this mean we can stop pretending nothing is happening between you two?”
“Ash,” Jackson groans.
The blonde man’s shoulders deflate. “What? I’ve been so good. But come on—we all saw that.”
Jackson walks to my bedside, a serious set to his brow. His eyes run over me quickly. “How are you? Truthfully?”
“It was unexpected, but I’m fine. Healthy enough and whole. You didn’t all have to come.”
Jackson’s blue eyes hold mine. “I think you can excuse us for wanting to see for ourselves that you’re all right after hearing your truck flipped end over end.”
“It wasn’t end over end,” I point out. “It was a single 180-degree horizontal twist.”
“Oh my God,” Ash mutters. “Every one of you. Stubborn as can be.”
“You flipped,” Jackson retorts flatly. “Your truck is totaled. You’re stuck with our concern, so deal.”
“I think what Jackson means to say,” Ash cuts in, joining him at the side of my bed, “is that we’re all glad you’re okay, Lawson. Isn’t that right?”
Jackson lets out a sigh as Ash elbows him none too gently. “Just don’t scare us like that again.”
My own exhale is heavy. “I’ll do my best.”
Jackson and Ash stay for a while before heading back to the waiting room to join the rest of the family. While the reprieve lasts, I take in my daughter. She’s staring out the window into the parking lot.
“Doing all right?” I check.
She jolts slightly before a frown settles on her face, reminding me of Remi. “Of course. Are you?”
“I’m fine,” I assure her.
I’m a little sore, that’s true. But apart from the mild cuts that have already been bandaged and some minor whiplash, I’m relatively unharmed. A blessing, all things considered.
Wendy gets out of her chair and approaches my bed, her eyes darting once to the door before settling on me. “You told Grandma you and Oakley need to talk about some things.”
“We do,” I agree.
“Like…relationship things?”
“Would you be okay with that?”
She huffs a breath. “Are you kidding? Of course I would be. Has this been going on since camping?”
“You could tell?” I ask, not exactly surprised she caught on. I can’t say I was trying all that hard to hide the way things had shifted between Oakley and me.
My daughter raises an eyebrow. “Dad. Everybody could tell.”
Well, Christ.
Maybe we were more obvious than I thought.
Wendy glances at the door again, perhaps checking for Oakley. He’s yet to return. “Do you love him?”
I pull in a breath, but my daughter goes on.
“He’s in love with you, Dad. He’s always been in love with you.”
My throat is so tight I have to clear it before I can speak. “How do you know that?”
“Because of the way he wouldn’t look at you,” she answers.
“I didn’t even realize it until recently, but…
When you were still with Mom, Oakley was always so careful not to stare at you for too long.
He’d avoid certain parts of your body or turn away when you weren’t wearing a shirt.
I don’t know if he was hiding it for your sake or maybe his own, but now…
Now he looks at you all the time. He doesn’t even try to hide it. ”
I swallow roughly.
“That’s how I know he’s always loved you,” my daughter says. “You don’t have to hide something that’s not there.”
I turn her words over as I try to compare the Oakley of then to the Oakley of now. I haven’t noticed what she has, but… I think I’ve missed a lot. Oakley might have been right about that, much as his words hurt at the time.
“Do you ever feel like everyone else has some key you were never given?” I ask. “And you’re just trying your best to pick your way through an endless series of locks into rooms you don’t even know?”
My daughter laughs lightly, her eyes creased with her smile. “Yeah, Dad. That’s life. We’re all faking it ’til we find the right rooms.”
“That’s terrifying.”
Her expression warms, my daughter of seventeen who’s grown up to be so much more than I ever could have known to hope for. “It kinda is,” she agrees, offering me her hand. I squeeze her tight. “Good thing none of us are alone, huh?”
I nod, my eyes stinging. “I’m so proud of you, Wen.”
She rolls her eyes, but I go on.
“I am. You’re smart and kind and cautious, which isn’t a bad thing.
You’re observant and hold others to high standards.
But you’re also forgiving when it counts.
You genuinely want the best for those around you.
You’re creative. Grounded. But you’re not scared to dream.
I’m so proud of the person you are. I’ll always be proud of you. ”
Wendy presses her lips tightly together, her eyes wet. “Thanks, Dad.”
Another knock at the door has Wendy quickly wiping her eyes. Oakley steps in, looking between the two of us.
Wendy gives me a smile before letting my hand go. “I’ll be in the waiting room with the rest of the family.”
“You sure?” I ask.
“I am. Love you, Dad.”
“Love you, too, Wen.”
As Wendy leaves the room, Oakley gives me a chagrined smile. “Bad timing?”
“No,” I assure him. “C’mere.”
He does, and I raise the head of my bed some, putting myself into more of a sitting position. Oakley’s eyes run over me, as if the man is assuring himself I’m well. That I’m here.
I keep my tone soft, knowing we both went through a lot today. “I’m fine, Oak.”
“Need anything?”
“Just you.”
His breath leaves him in a rush. “Jesus, Law.”
“What is it?”
Oakley looks down at where my arm is resting, at the crescent-shaped bite scar he runs a finger along. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to get used to you saying things like that.”
“You’ll manage,” I tell him, sure of it.
He snorts his amusement, but his expression quickly sobers. “Law… I shouldn’t have left the way I did. If you hadn’t come after me—”
“No,” I tell him, not wanting him for one second to blame himself for what happened. “It’s not your fault, Oak. It was an accident that could have happened anytime to anyone. And I’m fine. Yes, it could’ve been worse. But we’re not playing the what if game. It does no one any good.”
He nods, although his face is still downcast. I catch his wandering hand, the man finally meeting my eye.
I steel myself for what needs to be aired. “What I want to know…is why you were okay leaving things like that. Why you would have rather ended things than tell me how you feel.”
He swallows, the motion heavy.
“I don’t usually have to encourage you to speak your mind, Oak.”
“I know,” he says at a rasp. “I do, I just… I didn’t think you wanted me like that, Law.
And I couldn’t bear it. I thought maybe it’d be okay.
That I could keep on like we were, even if you didn’t feel…
the way I did. But coming face to face with it, I…
I knew it’d slowly eat away at me. It wouldn’t have been fair to either of us. ”
“So you ran instead of talking to me about it.”
His laugh is humorless. “I’m not always perfect, okay?”
“I never said you were.”
“Well, shit. And here I thought the sun rose and fell with me.”
I chuckle, and Oakley graces me with the ghost of a smile. It slips when I say, “I don’t want you to run from me, Oak. I want you to stand up to me. To stand with me. Like you always have.”
He blows out a slow breath, blinking rapidly. “I didn’t want to push you toward anything you weren’t prepared for. Anything you didn’t want for yourself.”
“And you thought I didn’t want you?”
His eyes ping between my own, a slow back-and-forth. “Lawson. I never would have forgiven myself if I became your next Laura.”
My inhale is sharp. “Oak…”
A knock at the door has the both of us stilling. It opens to my ex herself looking in with worry in her gaze. She opens her mouth to speak when her eyes slip from me to Oakley and down to our joined hands.
So much for a moment of peace.