Page 60 of When Sky Breaks
It comes out harsher than I intended, but being home makes me confront all the issues from my past, including the woman who abandoned me.
Before she can respond, our ride pulls to the curb, and I shove down my feelings to help her into the Uber, sliding in after August.
He turns to me. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to. I can pay for another Uber back to the firehouse.”
I shake my head stiffly. “I’m here and seeing this through. I want to make sure she’s okay.”
His smile is brief after telling the driver where to go. “Thank you. For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here. There isn’t anyone else I’d trust to help me with this more than you.”
His words seep into the corners of my mind. He trusts me and my capabilities. It’s more than I can say for Johnny, who at any opportunity reminds me he’s the doctor and I’m just the nurse.
Nurturing is in my blood. The moment Foster adopted me and restored my choices, the desire to help became natural. My father could’ve beaten out the resilience and the fight I had, but he unknowingly strengthened it. I find peace in helping others, often at the expense of myself.
Even if it means helping the man whom I’m finding harder and harder to see as the enemy anymore.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
august
The ride to the hospital is mercifully short. I’m sandwiched next to my drunk and grieving mother and the woman I’m still desperately in love with but can’t have. It’ll be a miracle if I make it out of this Uber intact and not need resuscitation myself.
We pull under the awning of the ER and give the driver an additional tip. Sky swings the door open and lets me out so I can help my mom.
She’s not as drunk as she was and swats my hand away as I try to hold it. “I can get in there myself, Auggy. Stop hovering.”
Irritation swells in my chest, but I breathe it out and monitor her as she shuffles through the automatic doors toward the lobby and registration desk.
Sky is beside me, and I take more comfort than I should that she’s still here, willing to help us. This has to be hard on her, and I wouldn’t blame her if she wants to leave. Helping the man who destroyed her life and his mom shouldn’t exactly rank high on the list.
After the check-in process is complete, we settle down in the lobby chairs, enveloped by the muted TV program and the hushed murmurs of the staff. Finally, her name is called, and after refusing to let me go with her, I fall into the chair next to Sky on a miffed exhale, my legs sprawled in front of me.
“She’ll be okay,” Sky says.
Pinching my eyebrows, I nod. “I know, and I know it could’ve been a lot worse. Let’s talk about something else. How’s Foster doing?”
“He’s better than I expected. The last scans showed some shrinkage of the cancer in his lymph nodes. He’s a tough guy and I think he’s holding it together since me and Trek are there to help. And you. I never really thanked you for being around like you have.” There’s a hint of trepidation in her voice.
I twist in my seat. There’s so much written on her face. Confusion, relief, maybe more, but I’m having trouble reading her. The years have created a divide, and even though there’s a tiny glimpse of our past in our exchanges, she’s still guarding her heart, still wrestling with everything that’s happened.
As much as it fucking irritates me to think about, I hope Johnny takes care of her the way she deserves. If it can’t be me, then at least there’s someone.
Fuck. I hate even thinking about it. I want it to be me.
“You don’t have to thank me for anything, Sh—Sky.” I swallow her nickname. It’s too intimate, given our current situation, no matter how easily it could fall from my tongue. “I owe you far more than just fixing or updating things around the house. I don’t know if I’ll be able to make everything right again, but I’ll do anything to prove how sorry I am for what I did.”
Her eyes are pinned to her lap, her hands and fingers twisting.
I wish I could comfort her.
Her voice is a whisper, and I lean in to hear her. “I waited for you. Here, I mean, after the fire. They brought me in to check me out for smoke inhalation, and I knew it was dumb because we were kids, but I waited for you. Watched the door like a hawk hoping to see your head peek around the corner. I just knew if I saw you, everything would be better. You always made every bad thing that happened with my dad better when we were together.”
Her hauntingly beautiful eyes send slivers of painful guilt through my stomach. How can I ever erase her anguish?
“But you’re here now. For Foster, and that’s something I can be grateful for.” Her smile is watery.
“I want to be here for you, too,” I whisper, my hand reaching for hers.
Heart in my throat, I lay my trembling hand over hers and watch on a held inhale as she gingerly flips her hand and curls her fingers in between mine. The warmth is instant, and I cling to it for as long as possible. She lets me brush my thumb over her knuckles and I swear her chest heaves with unsteady breaths. She leaves me unhinged, and after one small touch, I’m still totally gone for her. It’s pure torture, knowing it will never be like it was between us. We once consumed each other like two halves of a hungry soul. Now I’m empty and aching for what we had.