Page 35 of Forsaking All Others

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“Can I help you, sir?”

“Yeah, darlin’, I’m looking for Theodore Armstrong, my wife brought him in early this morning. Can you direct me to where they are?”

She types Theo’s name into the computer and my gaze darts around the waiting room.

“It looks like they’ve taken him down for some tests,” she reveals and diverts my eyes back to her. She turns around to grab something from the printer. “Your wife is probably in the waiting room. Take this pass, go through the double doors and follow the signs.”

I take the laminated piece of paper and follow her instructions, making my way through the doors. Reaching the radiology department, my eyes do a quick scan of the waiting room. I spot Holly sitting in the corner of the room, her eyes are closed, and her legs are curled under her. She looks fucking dead to the world, but that doesn’t stop my blood from racing. My body don’t care if she’s been up all night. It don’t care that her son is sick or that her husband is fucking missing. I’ve got no defenses where she is concerned and as I continue to stare at her, Tara’s voice rings in my ears.

You totally love her.

There are things in life you just don’t fight, and loving Holly is one of those things. I’ll always surrender to it.

She knows it.

I know it.

Now Colt and Tara know it too.

I make my way toward her and lift my hand to her cheek. My thumb gently strokes her skin and her eyes flutter open almost instantly. Seeming a little dazed, I give her a moment to collect her bearings and crouch down in front of her.

“What are you doing here?”

“We’ll get to that,” I say, dropping my hands to her knees. I give them a gentle squeeze, before lifting a hand to brush the stray hairs away from her face. “What’s going on with Theo?”

She continues to stare at me blankly for about a minute, then she rubs her hands over her face.

“I…I…don’t know. I thought it was just a stomach bug, but then he started burning up…” Her eyes lock with mine. “It’s been hours, Maverick, and they can’t break his fever. They put him under anesthesia to give him all these tests.” She pauses. “Do you remember when Shepard was having all those issues with his pituitary gland and they had to do an MRI of his brain? You had to come in and hold him because I couldn’t do it.”

I remember it like it was yesterday, he wasn’t even two when the pediatrician sent us to an endocrinologist. On top of all the blood tests she ordered to check his hormone levels, she sent our boy for an MRI. They only would allow one of us inside with him and Holly insisted she be it. Two minutes after they took them in, the nurse came and got me. Holly was hysterical crying and Shep was screaming at the top of his lungs. The nurse quickly escorted Holly out of the room and the radiologist instructed me to hold Shepard still while the anesthesiologist administered the drugs. There is absolutely no worse feeling than holding your child against his will while he pleads for you to help him. The look of sheer terror in his eyes still fucking haunts me.

“One minute he’s crying, begging me to help him and the next his eyes are closing, and his words are slurring…” Her voice trails as she shakes her head. “It was horrible.”

I give her knee another squeeze.

“I’m sorry, baby.”

Her gaze lowers to my hand on her knee for a moment.

“What are you sorry for?” she asks, her eyes coming back to mine. “You were there, that’s a lot more than I can say about Colt.”

Sighing, I pull my hand away from her leg and get to my feet. I fold my frame into the chair next to hers and drop my elbows to my knees.

“Yeah, Tara clued me in on what happened last night.”

Her head snaps to me.

“Tara?”

“She heard you and Colt arguing.”

“Jesus,” she hisses.

“Yeah,” I agree, purposely leaving out the part where our daughter questioned my intentions. “I’m guessing you didn’t take my advice and decided to press it.”

“Don’t,” she says. “It wasn’t like that, Mav. He completely lost his shit, then he stormed out. I could probably cut him some slack because I lied to him, but to not answer the phone when our son is in the hospital—he better be fucking dead.”

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