Chapter 27
“Merry Christmas, All I want is Forgiveness”
Greyson slammed his truck door hard enough to rattle the windows. Breathing heavily, he glared out the windshield and cursed under his breath, then punched the steering wheel. “Fuck!”
He needed space. Away from Wren. He knew his intensity would suffocate what they’d built together.
Jamming his keys in the ignition, he hesitated, his gaze narrowing on the shoveled path to the guest cabins. He knew which was Drummond’s.
“This is exactly the shit you have to stop,” he grumbled, fighting the urge to further mark his territory, and starting the truck.
“Grey, you there?” His brother’s voice crackled from the radio.
Great. He was in no mood. Snatching up the radio, he snapped, “What’s up?”
“We’re heading to the hospital,” Logan said in a rush. “It’s Dad.”
His hand tightened on the receiver. “What happened?”
“I’m not sure. They had to resuscitate him.”
“What?”
“Grey...” The radio crackled, cutting out. “…doesn’t sound good. You should ...”
“Fuck!” He punched the radio. “Logan?”
There was a long silence and then the static cut out as his brother said, “Don’t bail on this one.”
Grief weighed like a boot on his chest. He gripped the wheel, his vision blurring down to a keyhole as he tried to breath. Hospital. He needed to get to the hospital.
“Greyson!”
Lost in unwanted thoughts, he barely noticed the truck door fling open.
“Soren called. You need to get to the hospital right away!” She grabbed his arm. “Grey?”
He recognized the look of terror on her face from years before. She needed him to be better, but right now, he needed her. For this.
“Grey, did you hear me? You have to leave. Now.”
He nodded but didn’t move. “Wren.” His mouth filled with the bitter taste of loss. The fear of losing her choked the words right out of him.
“Greyson, you have to drive!”
He looked at her. Realizing he might lose her and his father in the same day. “I can’t go through this again.”
Understanding dawned, and she lunged across the seat, hugging him tightly. “It’s okay.”
He grabbed onto her, refusing to let her go. “I’m sorry. For everything.” He’d never be less, but he could try to say more. He’d say anything if it made her stay. “Please, don’t leave me, Wren.”
“I’m not going anywhere. But you have to drive. Your brothers are waiting.”
His throat constricted. He couldn’t move.
She understood and shoved the truck into park. “Switch.” Climbing over the console, she shoved him out the door. He rushed to the passenger side as she threw it into drive before he was even seated.
“I never meant to ruin anything for you.”
“You didn’t. None of that matters now.”
He looked down, confused how he ended up in the passenger seat. “I love you, Wren. You’re it for me. I can’t do this without you.”
She glanced at him, face tense and tears glistening in her eyes. “I know, Grey. I know. I love you, too.”
Not the way he loved her. She didn’t realize how many times he’d wanted to give up and disappear. She gave him a reason to keep coming back, to keep breathing. She gave him something to hope for. He just kept thinking, if he did better, made something of himself…Maybe she could love him.
The truck whipped into the hospital parking lot before he was ready to face the next step. “We’re here.”
“I don’t know the room number—“
“Four-twenty-six.” He frowned and she shrugged. “What? I visited.”
She’d visited? When?
They rushed inside. The elevator was cramped and muffled in a way that made his brain itch. His clothes turned heavy and tight. He tugged at his collar, having a hard time swallowing.
Wren’s hand curled around his, and warmth spread up his arm. He looked down at her, his grip tightening around her dainty fingers.
The elevator pinged and the door opened. Soren was there, pacing the halls like a caged animal. “It’s about fucking time.”
A second set of elevators opened and Logan rushed out. They must have just missed him in the lobby. “Where is he?”
“They took him for scans.”
Wren released Greyson’s hand and he went momentarily deaf. His brothers wore matching expressions from when their mom died. Panic welled inside him as he drifted outside reality. She hugged Soren and Logan, then her hand was back in his.
Safe.
“What happened?”
Soren detailed events using words like pressure and erratic. They all knew this was coming. According to doctors, it was inevitable.
Greyson watched Wren nod, her responses genuine and unguarded. When her hand tightened around his, so did his concern. He pulled her close. Comforting her somehow eased his own fear.
They moved to a waiting room filled with blue chairs. Wren sat between him and Logan, holding both their hands. Soren paced by the door.
When more than an hour had passed, she quietly stood. He didn’t want to let her go, but couldn’t find words to call her back.
She approached Soren and pressed a gentle hand on his back, whispering something private into his brother’s ear.
Mesmerized, Greyson watched as Soren fell apart, turning to Wren and hugging her tightly.
Then he wiped his tears and immediately apologized.
Even in crisis, Hawthorne men weren’t supposed to show emotion.
But Wren gripped his face and pressed her forehead to his. “You’re allowed to cry, Soren. He’s your father.”
His brother’s breath audibly shook. That’s what she did. She made others feel right, even when everything felt wrong.
Beside him, Logan sniffed and panic surged through Greyson.
He should bolt. He should get on the elevator, get the hell out of this hospital, and head straight for the harbor. He could get on a ship and disappear. Wren could go with him.
But she wouldn’t. She wouldn’t leave Bodhi, or The Haven, or even his brothers. She always toughed out the difficult stuff, no matter how hard things got.
“Grey?” Wren stood in front of him, hands wringing at her waist, eyes full of concern.
He blinked. Where did Logan and Soren go?
“Do you want to see him?”
He nodded but didn’t move.
“The doctor said only two at a time. We can go as soon as your brothers get back.”
The doctor? How had he missed the doctor? “Will you go with me?”
Her hand curled around his. “I’m not leaving your side.”
He planned to hold her to that promise.
She lowered to the seat beside him. “We can wait here until Soren and Logan are done.”
Greyson sat stiffly, elbows on his knees, fingers laced so tight they ached. He stared blankly at the linoleum.
Wren waited, quiet and calm, like gravity holding the room together. She rubbed his back in soothing strokes.
When the double doors opened, Greyson instinctively stood. A female doctor in a white lab coat approached. Mid-fifties. Salt at the temples. Steady eyes. Her badge read Dr. Kim – Neurology.
“Mr. Hawthorne?”
Greyson nodded.
“I’m Dr. Kim. I’ve been overseeing your father’s care since the stroke occurred this afternoon.”
Wren retrieved Logan and Soren from his father’s room. Her hand curled tightly around his as soon as she returned.
The doctor stiffly smiled in a way that brought little comfort. “I’ll start with the good news. Because your father was already admitted for pneumonia, we acted immediately and got his blood pressure down.”
Greyson only comprehended every other word as she explained what happened.
“So it was a stroke?” Soren asked.
“Yes. A mild ischemic stroke. There was a small clot in the right parietal region...”
Tightness cranked around his chest, making every breath harder.
“His heart isn’t pumping efficiently, and we’re seeing signs of progressive organ stress.”
Wren spoke for the first time. “Is there anything more you can do?”
“We can manage symptoms, continue monitoring. But I think it’s time we talk about the broader picture.”
Their words faded as Greyson stepped away.
Standing in the doorway of his father’s room, he listened as machines softly chirped. The silence between each beep hit like thunder.
“I recommend bringing in a palliative care team...”
How was this happening?
This was Magnus, their unshakable father. He was supposed to be eternal. Not weak and alone in some hospital bed.
“I’ll need a signature to move forward. Which one of you is Greyson Hawthorne?”
“Greyson?”
“Grey?”
He turned to his brothers. They looked at him as if he had answers. “What?”
Wren pulled him back into the fold. “Your father has you listed as his proxy. The doctor needs you to sign papers.”
“Why me?”
Soren walked away. Logan returned to their father’s room.
A pen and clipboard appeared in his hands. He stared blankly at the words, trusting Wren when she urged him to sign.
Logan’s voice drifted into the hall. Wren followed his stare to the elevators. “I can wait here for Logan if you want to talk to Soren.”
In that moment, he didn’t have the words to talk to anyone, but he needed to get the hell out of there. “Thanks.”
He found Soren outside pacing beside an ambulance. “Hey.”
Soren turned and twisted a red lollipop out of his mouth. “This is totally fucked up.”
Greyson nodded. “Where’d you get a lollipop?”
“Turns out, hospitals don’t offer bourbon.”
Greyson shoved his hands in his pockets. “This is so...” He laughed without humor. “Fucked.”
“Tell me about it. I knew we’d eventually get to this stage, but some part of me always believed he’d rally. I mean, it’s Dad. He’s too much of a prick to die.”
The corner of Greyson’s mouth lifted. “He’s probably outraged.”
Soren chuckled. “Think God knows he’s about to get fired?”
Greyson smirked. “There’s about to be some serious restructuring when the new boss arrives up there.”
They both chuckled.
“Logan’s going to be rough,” Soren said, staring down at his shoes.
They all were.
“This whole situation sucks.”
“Yeah.” He agreed.
They stood in silence for a beat.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about Mom.”
Greyson met his stare. “Yeah?”
“Remember how she used to make us those hot dogs with the spaghetti pushed through?”
“Octopasta?” Greyson hadn’t thought about his mom’s cooking in years.
“Dad hated it. Said hot dogs were nothing but trashy food for trashy people.”
“He never liked when she cooked for us.”
“Mom didn’t care.”
“No, she didn’t.”
“Remember when she and Haven took us swimming in the bay and Dad flipped out?”
Another lost memory surfaced. “He could never control her when Haven was involved.”
“Those damn Wildes!” Soren mimicked their father’s voice, and they both laughed. “I think he was always threatened by Haven’s independence.”
“She made Mom brave.”
“Yeah. The more time they spent together the less she took Dad’s shit.”
Greyson grinned. “Wren’s tough like her mom.”
Soren met his stare. “So, you two are...”
“Yup.”
“And it’s...”
“Yup.”
“No going back now.”
“Nope.” Greyson didn’t want to go back. Only forward. “You okay with it? With me?”
His brother drew in a long breath. “It was always going to be you, Grey. We knew it when you were fifteen.”
“Yet you still tried.”
Soren shrugged. “Hey, if you weren’t going to act, I wasn’t going to let a fine piece of—”
“I dare you to finish that statement.”
“Fair enough.” Soren held up his hands. “I’m happy for you. I’m happy for Wren.”
He wanted to ask if he was making a mistake. “Do you think we stole something from her?”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you think we disrupted her life or messed with her destiny?”
“It’s Wren, Greyson. She was never leaving Hideaway Harbor or Bodhi.”
“I know, but... What if she was meant for someone else? Someone better.”
“You’ve loved that girl since we were kids. There isn’t anyone who could love her more than you will.”
That’s not what he said the other day. “What if I’m like him?”
“What if you’re not?”
“But what if I am?”
“You’re not, Greyson. None of us are. We might have his name and features, but he wasn’t around enough for us to pick up his shitty traits. We choose who we are. Besides, you’re out of your mind if you think you could ignore Wren the way Dad ignored Mom. You’re totally whipped.”
Greyson scowled. “I am not.”
“Oh, please. You’ve been mooning over her for two decades. Disappear to the North Sea all you want. You’ll still come running back at the slightest finger wave.”
“Fuck off. I came home for holidays.”
“You came home for Wren. We all knew it. Just own it.”
The doors opened as other visitors stepped outside. “We should get back.”
They both sighed, forcing themselves to face the inevitable. But this time the elevator didn’t feel as constricting and he could breathe a little easier. When they reached the fourth floor, Wren stood, concern etched across her face.
Soren went in to visit their father and Greyson hugged her.
She eased back to read his expression. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” He pressed his lips to her hair, not ready to let her go.
“Is Soren?”
“He’ll be fine. We all will.”
Her arms tightened around him. “Do you want me to go in with you?”
He drew back to look at her. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
She slipped her hand back in his. “I told you, I’m not leaving your side.” They crossed the threshold as one.