Page 31 of Unbearable

“No, I think I am going to leave in the morning. I just wanted to let you know and say hi to Gracie.”

Gracie ran over, hearing him. “Daddy! I miss you so much, but I am having so much fun! I can’t wait until you come home though because you give the best hugs.”

“I miss you too, Gracie girl. How about I pick you up from school tomorrow?” She squealed.

Colt grabbed the phone straight from my hand, and Gracie and I both scolded him.

Colt narrowed his gaze at me and ruffled Gracie’s hair. “One second, Gracie. I need to talk to your dad.” I rolled my eyes at how he seemed to only soften for her. He looked at my phone. “See my text?” he asked.

Dorian sighed into the phone. “Yes. I won’t be home tonight. Are you able to stay with the girls?”

Annoying, stupid, overprotective brothers.

“Yes, I’ll stay with them.”

Gracie yelped, “Sleepover!”

TEN

Dotty

JULY - NOAH CYRUS

Despite me being a full-grown adult,Colt insisted on staying with us. I didn’t fight him on it, especially since Gracie was involved. He took Dorian’s room, leaving me to settle on the couch, which was a relief considering it wasn’t decades old like my dad’s.

After Gracie and I brushed our teeth and got ready for bed, I read her a couple of stories and kissed her good night before returning to the living room.

I laid back, staring at the ceiling, trying to process my whirlwind of emotions. The ceiling fan spun lazily, a soothing rhythm that began to lull me to sleep.

I was jolted awake by Gracie’s soft cries from down the hall. Instantly on my feet, I ran to her. She was sitting on the bathroom floor next to the toilet.

“I got sick,” she whimpered, her eyes welling with tears.

“Oh, Gracie. It’s okay.” I gently felt her forehead with the back of my hand.

Warm. Shit.

“I think you caught a bug, G—” Before I finished my sentence, she was throwing up again.

She spent almost an hour in the bathroom, curled up on the cold tile floor, alternating between bouts of sickness where she would retch and heave. In the brief moments of calm, she rested her head in my lap, her breathing labored. Her face was pale, beads of sweat forming on her forehead as she struggled through the discomfort. Once she finally seemed to hit a longer lull, I carefully shifted her head off my lap and onto a towel. She shifted and her eyes fluttered open.

“Do you think you’re going to be sick again? I want to grab you some medicine and a thermometer from the kitchen,” I asked.

“I think I’m okay.” I pressed a kiss to her forehead, unable to resist her sweetness.

This wasn’t how I had planned the evening at all. Between the unsettling note and Gracie falling ill, I felt drained, both emotionally and physically.

The wood floors were cold under my bare feet as I hurried to grab Tylenol and a thermometer. Glancing at the microwave clock, I noticed it was past two in the morning. I sent Dorian a quick text to keep him in the loop.

When I returned, Gracie hadn’t moved and was softly snoring. I gently ran the thermometer across her forehead. It beeped, showing a temperature of 102.1.

Not good.

“Hey Gracie, can you take this medicine?” I nudged her shoulder gently.

She grunted but obediently opened her mouth. I put the purple, sticky liquid in her mouth, and she swallowed it down.

“Come on, let’s get you back to bed.”

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