Page 11 of Entwined
“Where were you?” he growled, his voice low and edged with suspicion.
I frowned, not in the mood for one of Vaughn’s interrogations. My heart was already in pieces, and the last thing I needed was a confrontation with him. I could feel the exhaustion deep in my bones, pulling at me, making it hard to keep my composure.
“I had a doctor’s appointment if that’s okay with you,” I snapped, my tone sharper than I intended.
Vaughn narrowed his eyes, taking another slow sip of his whiskey, the amber liquid catching the light. “You just had one a couple of days ago. Why would you go back? Is something wrong?”
I let out a heavy sigh, trying to push back the rising tide of emotion. “Nothing is wrong. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to see my husband.”
Before I could take another step, Vaughn’s hand shot out, gripping my arm. “You should’ve gone to treatment with him,” he said, his voice rough. “He’s very weak, Joey. He needs you.”
I wrenched my arm free, glaring at him. “Don’t tell me what I need to do, Vaughn.”
I hurried away before he could say anything else, my heart pounding in my chest. I could feel his eyes on my back, but I wasgrateful when he didn’t follow. Upstairs, I found Colson asleep, his face pale and gaunt, a stark contrast to the strong man he used to be. The nurse sitting beside him rose quietly from her chair, her expression somber.
“He’s not doing well,” she whispered, her voice filled with a gentle sorrow. “I don’t think it will be long now.”
Her words hit me hard, even though I had known this was coming. Colson’s doctor had told me as much a few days ago, a conversation that had only added to the weight I was already carrying after the baby’s diagnosis. I nodded, unable to trust my voice, knowing that if I spoke, I would shatter.
“Do you want to sit with him?” the nurse offered. “I can take my break if you’d like.”
I nodded again, watching as she slipped out of the room, leaving us alone. I moved to Colson’s side, taking his thin, cold hand in mine. His eyes fluttered open at my touch, and he looked at me with a weak smile.
“Joey,” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper, “how is our baby?”
“Fine,” I whispered back, forcing a smile. “Just fine.”
Colson’s smile faded, replaced by a look of quiet determination. “Please, let me tell you. I need you to know.”
I hesitated, my heart tightening in my chest. This was it—the moment I had been dreading, but also knew was inevitable. It was time to take on the burden of all the secrets he had kept, to finally learn the truth that had been hidden for so long.
“Yes,” I said softly, giving him the permission he needed.
He exhaled loudly, relief and resignation in his eyes. “Where do I start?”
I reached up, cupping his cheek with my hand, and he leaned into my touch, closing his eyes for a brief moment. “From the beginning,” I urged gently.
Colson squeezed my hand, gathering his thoughts. “Then that’s where I’ll start. How much did your parents tell you about their younger years?”
I thought back, searching for memories of my father’s vague stories, the way he had always glossed over the loss of the family fortune, pretending to be content with his status. But I had always sensed the bitterness underneath, the unspoken regrets that lingered just beneath the surface.
“They didn’t tell me much,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “My father… he never really talked about it.”
Colson nodded, a look of understanding in his eyes. “There’s a lot they kept from you, Joey. Things that shaped the lives we’ve all lived. It’s time you knew the truth.”
I clenched my jaw, bracing myself for whatever Colson was about to reveal. My heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vice, and the tears threatened to spill over after the doctor’s grim confirmation, but I couldn’t afford to break down. Colson needed to unburden his soul, and I knew he wouldn’t find peace until he did.
He shifted on the bed, wincing, and I worried that he was in pain. But the morphine drip was doing its job, keeping the worst of it at bay.
“Logan Shaw was my best friend when I was young,” he began, his voice a rasping whisper.
I gasped, the words hitting me like a punch to the gut. “What?”
“Are you surprised to hear your father was my best friend?” he asked, a bitter smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “We did everything together, even shared girls.”
I raised my eyebrows, disbelief mingling with disgust. My father had always been respectful, never one to brag about conquests. He only ever talked about his dating history with my mother.
Colson continued, his gaze distant, as if he were back in that time. “Including Margaret.”
