Page 196 of Branded
Such simple words.
But they struck hard and true.
True enough that I couldn’t hold Marin’s gaze, that my eyes drifted away, and I became a fucking master at studying the stitching on the thin hospital-grade blanket. One stitch, two, three, more.
“Everyone,” Marin whispered.
And then I heard the whoosh of the door, felt the quiet descend as it shut behind Marin.
My gaze lifted…to the cards on the table.
My stomach roiled.
But I didn’t reach for them, didn’t register the names.
I just left those rectangles of cardstock where they were and closed my eyes.
And because I was alone, I allowed it to happen…
Allowed a tear that was burning behind my eyelids to escape.
Just one.
One tear. One life. One woman who was broken and would never be whole.
“I know it’s insanity,” Pru said softly, two days later, sitting next to me at her kitchen table. “But I just…”
I smiled gently. “Mila reminded you of you.”
A nod. “We’ve been on the foster parent list for so long, we didn’t expect to get a call, or for that call to fit, especially with the twins coming. Especially not bringing in a kid with a disease that we don’t really know much about.”
I reached over, squeezed Pru’s hand. “You’ll learn.”
“I know we will. Because, God, she’s only been here a couple of days and I’m in love.” They had gotten the call while I had been getting discharged—which had served the dual purpose of giving a girl and Pru and Marcel something good in the form of an instant family, and getting me some space while everyone settled in. I’d settled their worry, hung at home, thankful my job was remote, not that I needed to work.
I didn’t need the money, and I knew my boss would give me time off if I asked.
But I had to get back to normal.
Had to erase the worry Raph had in his eyes every time he looked at me.
Thank God he’d had a game the night before.
Because he’d hovered over me, him and Hazel both, that first day, and I’d been worried to say the wrong thing, to do the wrong thing, to trigger them or myself and…well, it hadn’t been the most relaxing day of my life.
I needed more space, more time, more air to breathe and memories to squash, and luckily, we’d only had the morning together before he’d had to leave to go to the rink. When he’d left, I’d kept busy—organizing my closets, finishing a couple of projects for work, making cookies, and texting Raph regular updates, as he’d requested. Then later, I’d crawled into bed and watched the Breakers kick ass. Raph had played well as always, so I didn’t need to add any hockey game guilt to my heavy bucket of it, thankfully, and then after, he’d come to my place again (though this time without the post-game side of thigh-high boots, his jersey, and incredible sexy time).
He’d slid into my bed, tugged the blankets over us, and held me.
And we hadn’t talked about what had happened, hadn’t talked about anything important—we’d just discussed the game and how I was feeling and Smitty being Smitty in the locker room.
It was like we were on a casual date with random chitchat.
It was weird.
It was…nice.
I liked being with Raph—minus being the cause of the shadows beneath his eyes—liked him holding me and sleeping next to him (though I didn’t sleep well either night, mostly because I was worried that if I relaxed too much again, if I wasn’t disciplined, those doors would open again and I would be right back where I’d begun)
