Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Arizona
I had always believed I functioned well under pressure, even when exhausted, thanks partly to copious amounts of caffeine. However, what I was currently experiencing was in a league of its own.
Little did I know when I fell asleep at Lily’s that my world was about to be rocked to its core. Captain Fisher, Jameson’s father, called shortly after midnight to inform me that there had been a fire in the greenhouse and that my dad was being transferred to Rockwood’s trauma center for smoke inhalation.
The wave of nausea that brought my world crashing down was unforgiving, as was the feeling of being a terrible friend since I couldn’t be in two places at once. I knew Lily understood, but that didn’t erase the guilt I felt. All my irrational fears hit me hard as the tables turned, and now she was the one supporting me in my time of need. She drove me to the hospital and sat quietly by my side while the doctors assessed my dad.
He was all I had left of my family, and the mere thought of nearly losing him brought me to my knees every time I spiraled through the endless cycle of “what-ifs.”
Staring down at his hand in mine, I gently traced my thumb over his knuckles, losing myself in connecting the dots formed by the freckles scattered across the top of his hand. The callouses on his hands were a visual sign of years of hard work outdoors. There was no harder worker than my dad. He’d worked on the land my entire life, and the greenhouse was our lifeline, a tribute of sorts to keeping the memory of my mom and her dream alive. I had zero idea of its state, as I could only handle one thing at a time.
It had been twenty-one years since I walked out of this hospital holding just my dad’s hand. “I can’t walk out of here alone, Dad; I can’t do it. Please,” I squeezed my eyes closed, “please don’t leave me.”
Time was cruel, a thief, yet, in the very next breath, it had the power to be everything we held dear to our hearts. It was sacred, as were the memories we honored and clutched to like a lifeline, helping us put one foot in front of the other and move forward.
With my lips tucked between my teeth, I bit back the tears I desperately needed to unleash, yet refused to do so until I was alone because of a vow I’d made to be strong for him. He had carried me through the darkest times, and now it was my turn to be his source of strength. Logically, I understood that he would recover with continued rest, oxygen, and IV fluids, but my medical knowledge didn’t ease the weight of my worries.
A soft knock drew my gaze to the hallway, and the man leaning on the doorjamb was the last person I’d expected to see. Tall and imposing, to the point he had mastered the art of sucking all the air out of the room whenever he entered. He was a source of frustration and the last person I wanted to see me vulnerable. Yet, as we quietly assessed one another, Jameson surprisingly turned out to be the only person who grasped what I needed at that moment.
A free pass.
A friend to lean on.
He closed the distance until all that separated us was the width of the bed. I dropped my chin and fought against the lump in my throat that had been gnawing at me like a ticking time bomb, suffocating what remaining breath I had left.
“Arizona.”
My name a ghosted whisper soft across his lips, yet I couldn’t move. I was frozen on the spot with the walls closing in around me, swallowing me up faster than quicksand as all my rational reasoning evaporated.
“Ari.” Jameson’s voice was pleading as he clasped his thumb and forefinger over the edge of my jaw and tilted my chin upward. “Breathe.”
Was it a simple suggestion or a request?
Either way, it was a subtle reminder that I seemed incapable of meeting the most basic necessities of life without a gentle nudge.
“You need to take a minute for yourself. Step away for a few.”
At first, I furrowed my brow in outrage, but as I continued to shake my head in denial, the more my resolve crumbled. I knew his plea came from a place of genuine concern rather than an assumption that he understood me better than I understood myself.
“I won’t leave him alone, I promise,” he reassured me.
As much as it pained me to leave my dad’s side, I knew I needed a break to gather my wits and recharge from the internal struggle I had endured over the last twenty-four hours. I was holding on by a thread, refusing to let the dam break, fearful that once it did, I would be swept away by an unforgiving current and wouldn’t recover. It was something I couldn’t risk until I was alone, safe from the prying eyes I knew would judge me—ones I refused to allow any power over me at the cost of my own fragility.
Rising to my feet, I leaned over and kissed my dad’s cheek before placing my trust in Jameson and seeking refuge in the first secluded spot I could find.