Page 120 of Healed Hearts

He starts crying again. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to do all… this.”

“Shh. It’s okay,” I whisper, pulling him back down to hold him to me. “No one’s upset. You’re alright.”

He lets out a shuddering breath, his chest hitching against mine. “I hate this, Hold. I’m scared.”

I sigh, rubbing his scalp with my fingertips. “I’m a little scared too. Can I talk to Beck? I want to see if he thinks the same thing as me. That this is a reaction to your medication.”

He nods slowly. “I trust Beck. Call him. I’ll do anything to not feel this way. I’m so scared,” he repeats, shaking as he cries harder against me.

My face scrunches in confusion. “I don’t have to call him. He’s here. He and Ro came to watch Wren for us.”

He jerks back quickly, his eyes finding mine. “When did they get here?”

“Around breakfast time. When I burned the pancakes.”

“I’m confused.”

The look on his face, combined with the fact that he doesn’t remember the burned pancakes is a little nerve-wracking. Hell,I can almost still smell them. Like the scent lives in my nose now. “You don’t remember us talking about them coming? Or the pancakes?”

His eyebrows draw together, and I can tell he’s trying really hard to remember. I can also tell the moment he realizes he can’t. He shakes his head. “That’s bad, right? Fuck, Hold. Oh, God.”

His breath leaves him in a rush as he clutches his chest, panic splashed across his expression. “Woah, woah. You’re okay, Julian.” I sit up quickly, and he follows, gasping for air. I straddle his lap and cup his face with one hand. Pressing our foreheads together, I take his hand and lift it to my chest. “Feel my breaths, copy me. You’re okay. Breathe with me.”

After what feels like a lifetime, his erratic breathing slows, his body relaxing the tiniest bit. “Tell me what you remember,” I murmur, sitting back to look at him when he’s fully calm again.

“Um, us talking on the couch at the hospital, Roman, you doing Wren’s hair.” He pauses and I wait for him to continue. He closes his eyes. “Coming home. You made dinner, right?”

“I did, yeah.”

He nods. “Um, going to bed. Sex. Then… nothing? Just now.”

There aren’t even words to describe how fucking relieved I am to know that he remembers us having sex. The thought of doing that with him when he wasn’t in a place to consent fills me with dread. But that’s something to tackle later. “We woke up and took a bath together, then Wren woke up and I tried and failed to make her pancakes. I burned them. Then we talked about having Ruby and Henry come and you didn’t want that, but you were okay with Beck and Ro, so I called them.”

He opens his eyes, studying me. “I don’t remember any of that. Why is this happening to me?” His voice cracks as more tears dot his cheeks.

I brush my thumbs under his eyes, wiping his tears away as they fall. “I’m not sure, Jules. I don’t know why it’s affecting you like this. But sometimes it does. I think if you need medicine for your anxiety, then we need to get you on something you can safely take daily.”

He nods. “Can we talk to Beck now?”

“Do you want me to get him in here? Or do you want to go out there?”

He thinks about it for a second, clearly torn. “I want to see Wren,” he finally whispers. “I know she’s okay with them, but I want to see her.”

“Let’s get your face washed first, okay?”

His cheeks pink up in embarrassment as his eyes dart away from me, and it makes my heart squeeze. “Hey,” I whisper, cupping his jaw and forcing his gaze back to mine. “It’s okay. I think you’ll feel better with a clean face, yeah?”

He nods slowly, his eyes locked onto mine. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

I smile, dropping a kiss to his chapped lips. “Just as well you don’t have to. You need water too. I think you’re dehydrated.”

He sighs. “Okay.”

After helping Julian wash his face, we head to the living room. Wren lights up when she sees us, but she doesn’t pull herself away from what looks like her very serious task of painting Beck’s nails. Roman is sitting on the couch, watching them with a smile on his face. “Hi, Daddy. Hi, Hold. I’m painting Unka Beck’s fingers.”

Beck chuckles. “Yeah, it really is my fingers.”

Julian makes a choked sound next to me, and I glance at him quickly, watching him take in the scene before him with wide eyes. “She painted yours too,” I whisper.

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