Page 70 of Solitude

“Hey, Kelsey,” Cole says, sandwiching the phone between his cheek and shoulder. “I’m goin’ to need an ambo to Sugar… She’s fine. It’s Mrs. Betty… Kelsey, take a breath and get me my ambo, darlin’.”

Beck slides past me, hands gentle on my shoulders as he moves me out of the way to squat down with Cole. He offers his hands, taking over the pressure on her forehead wound, and I stare at the scene, hand trembling as I cover my mouth. When I glance toward Gwen, she’s pale andshaking, eyes glassy with tears as she stares wide eyed at her unconscious grandmother splayed out on the floor, unmoving.

I cross the room to stand beside her, scooping her hand up in mine and squeezing, and it’s like the damn bursts as tears begin flowing freely down her cheeks. She turns into me and buries her face in my shoulder, soaking through my t-shirt in seconds as she tries to stay silent.

Everything happens in a blur after that.

Cole and Beck keep their calm as they help the paramedics and firefighters around the room, getting Mrs. Betty situated and stable before they move her.

“What happened?” The question comes from a new firefighter I’ve never met before, but Cole seems familiar with him. “Was anyone with her when she collapsed?”

Gwen clears her throat and steps forward, never letting go of my hand. “She was talking fine, then she… she stopped making sense, and?—”

“She had this distant look in her eyes then she fell,” Cole finishes for Gwen, squeezing her shoulder as she nods, quiet sobs choking her. Cole leans closer to the firefighter and whispers, “I’m thinkin’ stroke.”

The man nods, watching the paramedics wheel Mrs. Betty out of the room and out of the shop. His eyes drift to Gwen, looking her over.

“You’re family?”

Gwen nods.

He gestures toward the open door. “You riding with her, or what? They need to get to the hospital.”

Gwen gasps and moves around the room aimlessly for a minute, looking for who knows what, and I grab her shoulders and spin her to face me.

“Go,” I say softly. “I’ll handle the rest, okay?”

She nods, blinking back tears again. “I love you. Thank you.”

“Love you, too. Now go before Cole and this guy blow a gasket.”

“You don’t even know what a gasket is,” Cole says with a raised brow, and I shush him.

Gwen sprints out of the room toward the ambulance, shouting for them to wait, and I look up at Cole and Beck, tears pooling in my own eyes.

Cole slaps the man on the back and nods. “Thanks, Jace. Make sure she makes it okay? Yeah?”

“Grandma or the girl?”

“Both.”

Jace salutes us and backs out of the room, leaving just the three of us, and I let out a wet sigh, trembling and weak as I stare at the two men in front of me.

Beck shoves his hands through his hair with a groan before wrapping me up in his arms, fingers tangling in my hair as he holds me close, and I melt into him.

“I’m sorry.”

My brows pull together. “For what?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. Everything? I should’ve hugged you as soon as I saw you instead of?—”

“Beck,” I whisper gently, pulling far enough away to meet his blue eyes. “It’s okay.”

And I know as soon as I say it that I mean it.

Living apart, having a baby, getting drafted. It’s all par for the course, and I knew when I married Beck in that stale Texas courthouse with our thrift shop suit and dress that it wouldn’t be easy.

Nothing worth having is ever easy. That’s what Beck said when I pointed out how difficult it would be on us to be apart, and at the time, I think I’d rolled my eyes and told him to be serious. Now I understand.

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