Page 134 of Breaking Point
The nurse’s brows rise sky high. “Are you family?”
I hesitate for a second before saying, “Yes.”
The hesitation costs me. The nurse’s friendly attitude evaporates. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave, sir.”
“I just need to know why she’s here,” I rush out.
The nurse puts her hand on my back and I recoil, physically flinching away. She raises her hands. “Sir, I need you to leave. Please do so before I call security.”
Grumbling under my breath, I spin on my heel, deciding to head in the direction of someone who can answer my questions. I’m not taking no for an answer on this.
The beauty of being an athlete is the narrow-minded tunnel vision we get when we want something.
By the time Bella makes her way back to the room, it’s 4:30 in the morning. Our food is cold, and I’ve spoken to ten people who refused to tell me any information until I used my name. I’m not proud of it, but in the end, it will help Bella and her mom out exponentially.
Bella’s eyes are sunken, the exhaustion from the past couple of days coming to bite her in the ass as she practically flops onto the hospital bed. I immediately help her with the sheets, ignoring her quizzical expression as I tuck her in like my mom did to Drew and me when we were sick.
When I’m done, I take a seat beside her on the bed, my back to her as I face the wall. “You could have told me,” I say softly.
I feel her stiffen in the bed behind me. “Told you what?”
“Don’t play coy. I saw you go into the oncology ward.”
There’s a deep sigh. “It’s none of your business, Grayson.”
“Is that why you suddenly changed your mind?”
Bella’s quiet for a moment, the only sound the beeping of a monitor in the hallway. “Yes.”
I didn’t expect the truth.
I turn to face her, shocked to find she’s not angry like I thought she would be. Instead, she looks exhausted, and not from lack of sleep. No, this is a gut-wrenching, emotional, and mental exhaustion.
“How long have you been taking care of her?” I ask, searching her eyes for the answer.
She plays with the hospital blanket between her fingers. “Just a little over seven months now.”
Swallowing thickly, I let that sink in before I ask, “Are you her sole caregiver?”
She doesn’t answer me verbally. Just nods.
I can’t stop the sigh that escapes me. “You could have told me.”
“No, I couldn’t. Look at how you’re looking at me.”
My head rears back as if she slapped me. “What?”
“You’re looking at me with pity. You’re looking at me like I’m a girl with a dying mother.”
“Bella, youarea girl with a dying mother.” That snaps her head up, fire igniting in her cinnamon-brown depths.There’s my girl, my blazing wildfire.“And I’m not looking at you with pity. I’m looking at you with admiration. I’m looking at you with envy of how strong you are. I am looking at you, and I am in awe of how resilient, beautiful, and kind you are.” Her gaze is latched onto mine, an emotion filling them that I can’t decipher. “But I am also looking at you, Bella, and wondering who has been taking care ofyou.”
She frowns. “I have.”
“Then let me take some of the weight of that labor.”
Her eyes roll as she scoffs at the notion. “You’re my boss.”
That has me grinning. “Actually, until further notice, I am your fake boyfriend, and fake boyfriends can’t be caught slacking.”
