Page 37 of Everything We Left Unsaid

“I’m just glad she wasn’t alone with Chloe.”

I’ll admit that thought did cross my mind. If he hadn’t been there with them, she never would’ve stood a chance and Chloe would’ve essentially been there alone until I got home. The thought makes me shudder, so I try to push it from my mind.

“How did you get a hold of everyone? You called my brother?”

“Yeah, I found his number in her phone. Yours, too.”

I wince guiltily as the realization that I’d never given him my new number dawns on me. I feel like such an idiot. He was with the two people I care about most in this world, and I never gave him a way to reach me in case of an emergency.

Emergencies like what happened today.

“Once they loaded her in the ambulance, I knew I needed a way to contact you. So I dumped her purse onto the table, praying she had a cell phone in there. I hated to do it. My mom taught me from an early age never to go through a woman’s purse.”

He cringes and my hackles rise at the mention of his mother. I didn’t get a good impression of her from the stories he told me before. I can’t imagine what she did to him to teach that lesson.

“Don’t worry about that,” I reassure him. “You did what you needed to do in an extraordinary circumstance.”

“I tried calling you a few times from her phone, but couldn’t reach you,” he continues. “When I tried from my phone and still didn’t get an answer, I moved on to your brother.”

“I’m so sorry about that. I don’t get service in that store.”

“It’s okay. The important thing is that we got her here and got her treatment. But I do feel like there are some things I need to know now that I’m going to be around more. I couldn’t even give the dispatcher your address or your grandmother’s last name because I didn’t know them. I also didn’t have your number until I copied it from your grandmother’s phone. Which reminds me,” he pulls a phone from his pocket, “I need to save it to my contacts.”

“Let me see that.” I motion to his phone. He hands it over and I go to his recent calls, selecting my number and saving it to his contacts before passing it back to him.

“Baby Mama?” he asks, glancing at the screen with a raised eyebrow.

I giggle at his expression and he smiles, shaking his head at my goofiness. “Hey, I could’ve saved my number under Wifey since you told the ER you were my husband.”

“Hey, I never told them that.” He holds up his hands in mock defense. “They assumed. I just never corrected them,” he confesses with a wry smile.

The fluttery feeling I once got from that smile returns, and for a moment the situation at hand is forgotten and my focus is on him. His piercing blue eyes, his chiseled jaw, and those perfectly bowed, soft lips. My eyes scan down his torso, his simple cotton tee-shirt stretched across his broad chest and shoulders, causing my fingers to itch, the need to reach out and touch him almost more than I can stand. His forearms flex and my eyes are drawn to the corded muscles and golden skin stretched across them. I lick my lips and lift my gaze to meet his. He watches me with the same burning intensity, his expression heated and yearning.

“Abby,” he begins, but Chloe cuts him off.

“Dacob,” she croons, reaching for him across the table. She stands in the booth next to me and leans over the table, her half-eaten grilled cheese quickly forgotten.

He stands and steps up to our side of the booth, stretching out his arms for her to take. “Come here, baby girl.”

My heart beats faster. The sight of them together makes me hope for the first time in two years.

Hope to figure out this mess. Hope to be a family. Hope that Jacob will stand by us and be the father she needs.

I have a feeling he’s not going anywhere this time. By the way he looks at our daughter and the elated grin stretched across his face, I couldn’t get rid of him now if I wanted to. And I don’t.

When we return to the waiting room, Tiff is sitting by herself flipping through an old issue of Glamour. “Hey guys,” she greets as we approach, discarding the magazine on the end table. “They came out and got Ethan about ten minutes ago,” she informs us as she glances at her watch.

I wring my hands nervously, knowing I’ll be next. My stomach churns with the thought of what I’ll see when I walk into her hospital room. I’m afraid of what she’ll look like. Will she be awake? Are all those tubes she’s connected to hurting her? Will she be able to hear my voice if I talk to her?

Another ten minutes pass before Ethan returns with red-rimmed eyes, his jaw set like he’s clenching his teeth to keep the emotion from spilling out. “They said you can go back now.”

“Okay,” I reply in a shaky voice. “Will you guys be okay out here?” I turn my attention to Chloe and Jacob.

“We’ll be fine,” he assures me. “Go be with your grandmother. She needs you right now.” I’m overwhelmed with gratitude for this man. He saved my grandmother’s life, took excellent care of our daughter during a crisis, and is here now in continued support of my family. How could I doubt him? How could I have ever doubted him?

“Thank you.” My eyes become watery once again, but I manage to keep the tears at bay this time. Walking stiffly toward the double doors that lead to the cardiac ICU, I’m greeted by a young woman in royal blue scrubs.

“Abby?” she asks with a warm smile.

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