45. Ryan
FORTY-FIVE
Ryan
I hate this. I hate every single fucking thing about this. I hate that June has gone to her apartment by herself. I hate that she’s been gone for hours. And I really hate that she had to go in the first place.
I should have manned up and asked her to stay. Fuck. I really botched this one. I can’t let her leave, but I also can’t exactly force her to stay. I’m pretty sure that’s referred to as kidnapping and is illegal in all states.
But I could have done the rational thing, the logical thing, and talked to her. Simple, I know, yet it feels so complicated.
What do I say—oh hey, how do you feel about staying here with me for the rest of your life? Remember the other day when I joked about marriage? Well, I wasn’t joking.
She’ll be flattered, right?
And then she’ll have no choice but to call her apartment complex and tell them to shove that two-bedroom right up their asses.
“Daddy, you’re missing my faborite part.” Oliver tugs at my shirt, his bottom lip jutting out. Apparently it doesn’t matter that we’ve watched this movie at least a hundred times. I should also mention that his favorite part changes just about every time we watch it.
Still, I settle back against the couch and focus on the TV. “Sorry, my bad.”
I’m pretty sure he rolls his eyes at me, but I’m way too distracted to chastise him. What is taking her so long?
I check my phone for the hundredth time and still no calls or texts. There’s no reason to worry. I’m sure she’s busy. But dammit, I can’t help the dread sinking inside me like a lead weight. My entire body feels hollow, and I can’t sit still. I sure as hell can’t concentrate on this movie.
My phone is somehow magically unlocked—definitely not something I did on purpose—and I’m about to fire off a text when my phone rings suddenly. So suddenly it scares the fuck out of me and it flies from my hand, hitting me right in the mouth.
Fuck, that hurt.
But I can nurse my face later. This could be June.
I’m scrambling to get a handle on my phone, and I flip it over to see an unknown number. Probably a scam call, one I’d usually ignore, but there’s a little voice in the back of my mind telling me to answer.
“Hello.”
“Ryan, thank God, it’s Margaret. June’s mom.” She sounds a bit frazzled, and that has me sitting a little straighter, holding the phone a little tighter.
“What’s going on, Mrs. Morgan? Are you okay?” My tongue feels thick, my throat clogs, and that weight in the pit of my stomach gets heavier.
Her voice is muffled and a few car doors slam. “I’m fine. It’s June. The hospital just called me. She’s been in an accident.”
Everything goes black—my vision, my brain. I can’t think. I can’t move. I can’t fucking breathe. She’s still talking, but the only thing I hear is a faint buzzing. June. Hospital. Accident.
June. Hospital. Accident.
The buzzing gets louder. Louder. God, why won’t it stop. It’s in my bones. It’s deep inside me.
All I see is darkness. The walls are closing in.
June. Accident.
It’s like I’m reliving the worst day of my life. Everything is about to get ripped away from me. No, it can’t happen again. It can’t. I need June. I can’t live alone. I can’t do this. And Oliver. Oh God.
“Daddy?”
Oliver’s voice breaks through the fog surrounding me, and he shakes my arm. My fingers go numb and I force myself to loosen my grip on the phone. Her mom is still there, still talking, and I draw in a shaky breath.
“Ryan? Are you there? Can you hear me?” She’s talking fast. A horn honks.
I take in another breath. And then another. “Where is she?”
She lets out a relieved sigh. “She’s at Nashville General. I’ll meet you there. Poppy and I are on the way now.”
I don’t bother responding. I’m not sure I can. I’m up in a flash, phone in my pocket, and I’m turning off the TV and grabbing my keys.
“Sorry, Oli, we can finish the movie later. Right now we need to go. ”
But he’s still on the couch, his head tilted as he stares at me. “Go where?”
“To see your grandmother and Aunt Poppy.”
“But we already saw fem today.”
“Dammit, Oliver,” I snap. I can’t play twenty questions. I can’t let more time pass. Not when June’s in the hospital. She could be unconscious. She could be so injured she may never recover. She could ... she could already be gone.
Tears fill his eyes and I curse. Shit. Motherfucker. I need to calm down. I need to get a fucking grip before I do something stupid and hurt us both.
I drop down to my knees in front of him and grab his hands, giving them a light squeeze. “I’m sorry I lost my temper and yelled at you, but we really have to go. Do you know what an emergency is?” He sniffles, nodding, and yeah, I feel like shit. “Right now Daddy has an emergency and we need to go. Do you think you can help me get down to the car?”
Another nod and thank God, he climbs down from the couch and grabs my hand.
Within minutes we’re down in the garage, and I get him all buckled in. Only once I’m in the driver’s seat, I realize how bad my hands are shaking, how bad I’m shaking. Fuck. Fuck . I grab the steering wheel, digging my fingers into the leather and close my eyes. My heart is beating so hard, so fast. I need to get to June. I need to get to the hospital, but I won’t risk Oliver to do it. He’s depending on me. I may be all he has.
God—
Please let June be alive.
Please .
Oliver needs his mom and I just need her .
I buckle my seat belt and slowly open my eyes, glancing at Oliver in the back seat. He’s staring out the window, humming along to a song I didn’t even realize was playing on the radio. We’re going to be okay. She’s going to be okay. She has to be.
Please .
Once I’ve got myself under control, I shift the car to reverse, back out of my spot, and take off. Thank God, the lights are on my side, and traffic seems lighter than usual. It doesn’t take long for us to pull into ER parking.
“What is it?” Oliver asks, glancing around as I get him unbuckled and out of his seat.
“I ... your mom ...” He’s staring at me, his eyes so innocent. I don’t want to do this to him. I don’t want to break him. But more than anything I don’t have news to give him.
“Hey.” Poppy is next to us, her hand on my shoulder. “Do you want me to take Oliver in?”
I look to the hospital building, my heart racing once again. “Yes. Please. Oliver, Daddy will see you in a minute, okay.”
And I’m off, eating up the distance between me and the emergency room at lightning speed. I burst through the doors, startling the nurses at the desk and a few of the people in the waiting room.
“Sir, can I help you?” One of the girls eyes me, looking at me warily, and I don’t blame her. I’m sure I look deranged.
I step up to the desk, and it takes everything in me not to lean over the counter and buzz myself through the door I’m sure leads to the back. “I’m looking for June Morgan.”
She hums to herself, typing into the computer, and dammit, she’s not typing fast enough. Only she doesn’t immediately let me back. Just raises her head and arches a brow. “And are you family? ”
“I ... yes.” My heart leaps in my throat, and I swallow it down. “I’m her fiancé.”
A little white lie, but she doesn’t need to know, and if it helps get me back to see June, it’s worth it.
She purses her lips like she doesn’t believe me.
“Please.” I’m not above dropping to my knees and begging her to let me see June. “I have to know if she’s okay. If she’s ...”
The other girl hits the miracle buzzer and motions toward the door. “She’s in bay eleven.”
I’ve never moved so fast in my life. I’m through the door, barreling past the large front desk, and searching for—there it is. Bay eleven.
Except I can’t barrel in there as much as I’d like to. The thought of June lying in a hospital bed, injured, bleeding ... it’s enough to give me pause. I ... fuck. Please let her be okay. Please .
All the beeping and conversations around me die down as my fingers close around the curtain. My pulse beats in my ears, dread snakes through me, and for a moment I forget to breathe.
It feels like hours, days, for the curtain to pull back, and when it does, all the air whooshes from my lungs. June is lying on a stretcher, hooked up to an IV with a bandage on her forehead. She’s a little bruised, but she’s awake. Alert. She’s fine. Thank fuck. Fuck me. I don’t know what I would have done if she?—
No. I’m not even going to think it.
Her mom is in the chair on the far side of the space, holding June’s hand, giving me a tight smile.
I lurch forward, barely able to control my own body, and sink down onto the floor on the other side of the bed. “You scared the shit out of me.” I grab her hand, giving it a squeeze, making sure she’s real. “I thought. I fuck ...”
She laces her fingers with mine, a few tears slipping down her cheeks, and I wipe them away. “Some jerk ran a stop sign. I’m okay. Scared but okay.”
Her mom stands up, clearing her throat, and kisses the top of her head. “The doctor already came in and checked her out. She’s got a small laceration on her forehead and a few bumps and bruises, but nothing major. I’ll give you guys a minute.”
As soon as she leaves, June sits up, her free hand coming to rest on my face. “Are you okay?”
I huff a breath. I think I’m definitely not okay. And I’m kneeling on a hospital floor. “I am now. And June? I don’t want you to move out.” I stop there, because telling her I want her to stay with me forever might send the wrong message. At this point I’m hoping she’ll take pity on me and say she’ll stay. In fact, I probably shouldn’t have asked here. “Sorry, it’s not the time. We can talk about this later. I’m just so happy you’re okay.”
June’s smile is small, and another tear slips from the corner of her eye. “I’ll stay.”
Thank fuck.
Just two words, two little words, and my entire world shifts. That dread hanging out inside me, weighing me down, lifts. This time when my heart races, it’s for a different reason altogether. It’s beating for her, for us, for this family we’re creating. I may not have been ready for her all those years ago, but I’m ready for her now.
She’s a little banged up, but she’s mine, and I’m never letting her go.