Page 46 of Embrace Me Forever

“She always wants to move, even though she can’t,” Georgia-May observes, watching her daughter with a mixture of concern and admiration. “She gets frustrated, but she doesn’t stop.”

“As long as she’s comfortable and willing, continue to support her and allow her to move her legs as much as she’s able,” he suggests while massaging Coco’s legs, explaining it’ll boost circulation and enhance nerve responsiveness. “Be sure to reward her efforts. It’s crucial that she develops positive associations with movement and therapy sessions.”

“Sure thing,” Georgia-May responds.

“If you have access to a swimming pool, I’d recommend taking Coco there. Does she enjoy being in the water?”

“Oh yeah!” Georgia-May replies enthusiastically.

“Excellent. Use a flotation device and make sure to stay close to her at all times. It will make the experience more enjoyable for her and beneficial for her mobility,” he advises.

As Coco completes her therapy, Georgia-May notices her daughter’s brow glistening with sweat, a testament to her determined efforts. Deciding it’s time for a fresh change of clothes, she gathers her daughter close.

“Tell me what you need,” I offer, preparing the bag for her. Georgia-May rummages into the open bag, retrieving a handful of clothes and a bottle of baby powder. “That’s everything, thank you,” she smiles.

“I’ll wait outside,” I murmur, stepping back to afford Georgia-May and Coco some privacy. The door closes with a click, sealing them away. I lean against the cool, impersonal wall of the corridor, my thoughts lingering on their grace under pressure and unyielding strength.

My phone lights up. It’s a text from Clay, and I call back.

“Hey, big man, how’s it hanging?” Clayton’s voice greets me.

“Not too bad. Just wrapped up a therapy session for Coco, Georgia-May’s daughter.”

“Hope she’s holding up okay.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty calm now, but I’d feel a whole lot safer with them in Cali. She lives with her sister, and their house is hardly secure. Bertram won’t stay quiet for long. Plus, there’s Coco to think about. She’s still just a toddler, Clay,” I say, my voice betraying a hint of the ache I feel at the thought of her frailty.

“You know we’ve got your back. Anything you need, including Wyatt and the jet.”

“Appreciate it, Clay. I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Seriously, just give the word, and it’s done.”

The call concludes, leaving time to stretch as I wait for Georgia-May to finish. I find myself transfixed by the pale bluedoor, envisioning her inside, tenderly caring for Coco, perhaps coaxing a giggle from the child with a small tickle—a gesture I’ve come to recognize as her own. How does one turn away from such love? Oh, how splendid it would be to entwine my life with theirs?

The word NEVER sprayed in bold capital letters across my chest like bad graffiti has begun to fade with every moment spent with Georgia-May. Perhaps I do wield the power to erase it. But the question lingers. Where do I begin?

Although I never broke Georgia-May with our initial kiss, which withered before it could bloom, I despise myself for the disappointment it brought. At the time, I believed she deserved better than a flawed man like me. Yet, having now tasted the sweetness of her world, I wonder. How would she love me? Could I possibly love her in the way she deserves?

God, how I want to lay it bare to her. I want her—not as part of the fleeting patterns of quick hellos and goodbyes and meaningless sex I’ve known all too well. But after years of solitude, carrying regret that feels like a rain-soaked coat, unlearning a pattern is harder than acquiring it. If I fail, how do I protect her from the fallout?

The two girls under my protection have become my world, reigniting a zest for life in a heart once devoid of any real connections. Not even a pet, with only my robot Poppy for company. Can I offer Georgia-May the love I once felt for Flo? Or is it unjust to compare those feelings with what I now experience for her? Despite the pain these comparisons bring, I find myself hopelessly caught in their grip.

Georgia-May is not Flo. She radiates formidable independence, seemingly invincible. Aside from the danger Bertram poses, she doesn’t need me. Yet I’m drawn to her with a fervor beyond anything I’ve known before.

As the door to the room swings open, resolve settles over me. It’s time Georgia-May knew the real me.

16

GEORGIA-MAY

“Coco, what do you want to do now?” I ask, my voice excited as we step out of the hospital. Blake is right by our side, a presence easing the load from my shoulders. I hope he realizes just how much he means to us.

“Duck,” Coco chirps, her eyes sparkling with a child’s simple joy.

When she says the word inside the house, it means bath. But when we’re out and about, it means something different.

“Really? Should we see if Blake’s up for a little adventure?” I gently pinch her cheek and then mouth to Blake, “She wants to feed the ducks.”

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