Page 220 of There's No Us Without You
“Mum, don’t cry. What’s done is done.”
“See?” Dad says to her. “He doesn’t hate us.”
Her eyes widen as they dart over her face, and she dabs a tissue over her cheeks. “You don’t?”
“Jesus, Mum. I could never hate you. Come here.” I pat the side of the bed and shuffle over for her to join me.
Sniffing, she climbs to her feet and plants herself on the bed next to me. I wrap her in my arms, the floral scent of her perfume calming me slightly.
Having my parents’ support means everything right now.
“I love you, Emerson,” Mum says, her voice breaking.
“Love you too.” I kiss the top of her head while she releases whatever guilt she’s built up over the years.
SIXTY-TWO
Eden
It’sthe day after Emerson’s surgery, and Will and I are at the hospital to pick him up. He’s in the hospital bed now while the physiotherapist manoeuvres his leg, lifting and bending it slowly. Emerson winces when his knee is straightened, and Ihold my breath instinctively until the physiotherapist lowers his leg and places it back on the bed.
Groaning, Em squeezes his eyes shut as he sucks in a long breath and blows it out slowly. A sheen of sweat covers his forehead and neck, his body visibly shaking.
I can only imagine the pain he must be feeling.
Will glances at his phone for the tenth time since we got here half an hour ago. He also didn’t say much in the car, but I wasn’t game enough to ask him about it with the waves of anger rolling off him. I could have popped the air with a pin.
I’m just putting his mood down to everything that has happened over the last couple of days with Emerson, and not the possibility something is up with Tyler.
“Everything looks good.” The physiotherapist taps Emerson’s foot. “Come see me in another couple of days,” he says, before leaving the room.
“Got everything?” Will nods at Emerson, before motioning to the door. “Let’s get out of here.”
He nods and grabs his crutches. “I’m sick of this place. I can’t wait to be home.” Coming up beside me, he nudges my upper arm. “I hope you stocked up on my favourites, Pop-Tart.”
I roll my eyes, a smile tugging the corners of my lips. “Yes, Em. I’ve made your favourite brownies.”
“The ones with the chocolate chunks?”
“The ones with the chocolate chunks.” I shake my head as I laugh.
I couldn’t sleep last night knowing Emerson was coming home today, so I spent half the night baking before Will literally threw me over his shoulder and carried me to bed—his bed of course.
Emerson grins as he passes Will. “You got my bag, lover?”
Will groans. “Jesus,” he says before snatching Emerson’s bag from the end of the bed and throwing it over his shoulder. “You’re going to be a fucking nightmare, aren’t you?”
It’s not a question.
“You know it.” A wide grin splits Emerson’s face as he winks over his shoulder and makes his way down the hospital corridor.
He’s still getting used to those crutches—his gait like that of a baby giraffe learning to walk.
I stifle my laugh with a hand and follow behind. Having Emerson back is going to be so much fun—in more ways than one.
I’ve decided once we get through settling back in, I’m going to make an appointment with the bank to start the process of getting the restaurant back.
However, each time I think nothing else could possibly go wrong, the universe smacks me right in the face with the next thing. So, if we can get through the next few weeks with no hiccups, that would be appreciated.
