Page 22 of Healed Hearts

Thank you for your time. I’ll let you go. Thanks again.

I stare at the message, my finger hovering over the send button. I drop my head back on the couch and stare up at the ceiling for a second. When I look back to my phone, I backspace everything I just typed.

Me

At any rate, I appreciate it. I’m sure that Wren does too.

There. That’s better, right? It’s still open-ended, so he can respond if he wants to, but he won’t feel obligated if he doesn’t.I’m about to get up to carry Wren to bed—mostly to distract myself—when my phone goes off again.

My heart skips a beat.

Holden

Thank you. :) Did your Disney movies end up being fun?

Holy shit. He’s engaging. He’s asking questions. No pressure, Julian.

Me

Yeah, they were. :) She fell asleep pretty quickly, though.

The bubbles that indicate he’s typing pop up immediately.

Holden

Aww, that sucks. Hopefully the medicine will make her feel better soon.

I glance over at Wren, looking at her sweet, sticker-covered face. I sure hope so, too. I type another message.

Me

How long should it take?

Holden

Not long? If it’s working the way it’s supposed to, and her levels rise (which we’ll hopefully know tomorrow) then she should feel better soon. Within a couple of days.

Well, that’s a fucking relief.

Me

Thank you.

With a sigh, I stand up and toss my phone to the side and pick Wren up. After I carry her to her room, I peel the stickers off her face. Silly girl.

I head back to the living room and shut everything down before grabbing my phone. There are no new messages, but that’s okay. I wasn’t really expecting one. At least that’s what I tell myself.

After glancing around to make sure everything is good for nighttime, I head into my bedroom.

I strip down to my boxers and settle into bed. The second I do, the scent of citrus fills my nose. I’ve washed my sheets, so I know it’s all in my head, but that doesn’t help. It’s so fucking strange. I don’t understand why I can’t get the smell of him out of my bed, or the thoughts of him from my mind, or the look on his face as he fell apart on top of me from playing on repeat.

I’ve never been so fucked up over a hookup.

I place Wren’s plate of mac and cheese in front of her. She hasn’t really wanted to eat, but I’m trying not to let that bother me too much. I’m sure it’s fine. And I’m hoping that, like Holden said, her levels normalize, and she’ll start doing better. Maybe the fact that she was actually hungry today will be a good sign. “Thank you, Daddy.”

I press a kiss to her curls. “You’re welcome, baby girl.”

She lifts a spoonful of mac and cheese to her mouth and shovels it in. This kid is a fucking menace with food. Or, at least, she usually is, so it makes me happy to see her eating like this again.

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