Page 95 of Estranged Heart
“None of those things. Something more.” My heart squeezes. “So much more.”
She frowns, her eyes turning down. “I think the only way you can figure this out is if you talk to him. Go see him and go from there. You don’t have to figure out anything today.”
“Yeah . . . I guess you’re right.”
She squeezes my hand, waggling her brows. “I usually am.”
“Get dressed and I’ll go get me a coffee downstairs. Might get me some of that cake I spotted when I passed the cafeteria trying to find your room.”
“Thanks, Jessa. I won’t be long.”
“Take your time.” She quickly gets to her feet. “I’m never in any rush to get home to the chaos waiting for me.”
I chuckle, leaning over the bed to grab my clothes. “I’ll text you when I’m done.”
“Sounds good. You might wanna brush that hair of yours too,” she teases on her way out of the room.
I wave her off, feeling lighter than before. I’m glad I called her. Having a friend around definitely beats getting through all this alone. It makes me realize how much of my world revolved around my husband. I shut so many people out, assuming I had all I needed with him. Then he was gone and I was all alone. Was I doing the same with Silas? Relying heavily on him to make everything easier? I think we were both guilty of using each other in that way. We clung to what felt good, but is there really anything wrong with that?
The word wrong doesn’t belong anywhere near his name. Not then and not now. He’s still my good, and my heart is elated at the thought of seeing him. I’m lighting up on the inside, my pulse unable to settle until we’re in the same room again and I see those large ocean eyes staring back at me.
Quickly dressing, I brush my hair and splash water on my face, though the tiredness doesn’t fade from my eyes and bags remain underneath. Sleeping hasn’t been easy these last few days. Not only because of all the tests and vitals being taken in the middle of the night, but because Silas has weighed heavy on my mind, along with whether Detective Samuels will find the rest of the people Stacey was working for.
Hank was caught arguing with a clerk at a Quick Trip and didn’t try to run away when the cops showed up—almost as if he preferred to be arrested over what was waiting for him back home. In my opinion, prison was too good for him. Death was too, no matter how brutal. I’m only thankful he was caught before delivering the unconscious teenage boy in the trunk of his car. I shudder, thinking about all the people who didn’t have a chance at getting away. People like Landon.
A knock at the door has me stepping out of the bathroom. The nurse from before is back, setting papers on the bed. “You’re all free to go, Mr. Pena. You need help getting downstairs?”
“No.” I take two steps forward, shifting my lips from side to side. “I’m actually going to visit a friend on another floor before going home.”
“Okay. Hope they get to go home soon too. Take care, hun.”
“You too.” I wait five minutes after she leaves to gather all my belongings in a bag and head to the elevator. I think about what I’ll say as I’m walking to Silas’s room, all for my mind to draw a blank when I’m finally standing in front of his door. I freeze when it pulls open and his mom steps out. Her eyes widen in surprise when she sees me, and my shoulders relax at the easygoing smile she was wearing when I was last at her house.
“Elijah.” She embraces me in a gentle hug. “He’s going to be so happy to see you.” She pulls back, her smile wavering a little. “How are you?”
“Good. Much better than when I first arrived here.” I smile, trying to keep the light mood going.
“I’m happy to hear that. He’s asked for you every time he’s woken up. I think he forgets he does it.”
“I haven’t been able to leave my room much before today but thought I’d stop by before heading home.”
“I’m really glad you did.” Her expression is neutral now. “Well, I have to stop by the house to get some of Silas’s things. It was good seeing you again.”
“You too.” I smile, squeezing past her and stopping again when I see Silas lying in bed, looking towards the window. He doesn’t move when I walk closer and the door shuts behind me, the light strands in his hair catching in what's left of the sun, reminding me of honey.
“Looks like a nice day out,” I say, nudging my head forward, focusing on the rain spitting against the glass.
His head slowly moves, his eyes widening when they land on me. “It’s storming out,” he whispers.
“Yeah. The perfect weather for dancing.” My lips turn up a little, the bottom one shaking as I reach the bed.
A muscle tics in his throat as he stares back out the window. “I doubt anyone else feels that way.”
“But you’d agree, wouldn’t you?”
The light shines in his eyes a little when he turns his head again. “Yeah. Anything happening outside this room and bed sounds perfect to me.”
“How about we go for a stroll? You’re allowed to do that now, right?” My gaze bounces between him and the wheelchair in the corner of his room.
