Page 84 of My Destiny
“How are you feeling today? You’ve been on my mind all morning.”
“I’m feeling a lot better.” Brooke was moved into a ward around three o’clock this morning. The nurses tried to get me to go home, but I was so persistent they ended up letting me stay. All her scans came back clear, but the doctor wanted to keep her overnight for observation. I’m hoping I’ll be able to take her home later today. She has ten stitches in the side of her head and a severe concussion, but hasn’t complained once, I’m in awe of her strength. Life’s constantly knocking her down, yet she just dusts herself off and keeps moving forward.
“I’m glad. Oh, here, these are for you.”
My mum passes the flowers to Brooke, and she immediately brings them to her nose, inhaling their scent. She’s so sweet. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, sweetheart. I’m actually on my way to visit John, but I wanted to come and see you first.” Brooke just nods, giving her a tight smile. My uncle survived his surgery, and was placed in ICU. His condition is still listed as critical, but I’m trying to remain confident that he’ll pull through this. “Logan says they may be letting you go home today.”
We’ve yet to discuss where home is, but for now I want her with me. I know she said she’d only stay while Jake was a threat, but I’ll do my best to change her mind, when the conversation arises. My place wouldn’t be the same without her in it.
“I hope so. I’m not a fan of hospitals.”
“Me neither,” my mum says. She taps Brooke’s hand before standing. “Well, I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone.” My mother’s comment makes Brooke giggle. “Don’t forget dinner at my place as soon as you’re feeling up to it.”
“I’d like that,” she replies.
Leaning forward, my mum places a kiss on Brooke’s forehead, before turning and giving me one too. “Bye, Mum,” I say.
“Bye, sweetheart.”
“Give my love to John.”
“I will. I’m hoping Kathleen isn’t there. I could throttle that woman at times.”
Her comment makes me chuckle. “She wasn’t there when I saw him,” I say.
I ducked out earlier while Brooke slept, but he wasn’t awake. It was awful seeing him connected to so many machines, looking so pale and lifeless. They had to remove his spleen and part of his stomach to stem the internal bleeding. The next twenty-four to forty-eight hours are crucial, but if he can get through that, they’re confident he’ll make a full recovery. The doctors said he was extremely lucky. Apparently the bullet missed his spinal cord by mere millimetres.
“She left the hospital when your father and I did,” my mother says. “She complained the chairs in his room weren’t comfortable enough, so she was going home to her bed.” My mother rolls her eyes. “God forbid she put someone else’s needs above her own. John’s her husband for heaven’s sake. I know if it was my Robert lying in that bed, I wouldn’t leave his side.”
I move my chair closer to the bed when my mum finally leaves and reach for Brooke’s hand. “You went to see John?” she asks.
“Yes, while you were sleeping. I didn’t stay long.”
Her eyes move down to her free hand, where she’s rubbing the white sheet between her fingertips. “Did he tell you he thinks he’s my father?”
“Yes.”
“What are your thoughts on that?”
I shrug. “To be honest, when he first mentioned it, I thought it was ludicrous, but when he explained what happened between him and your mother, his story was almost identical to yours.”
“I see,” she says, her gaze moving to the window.
“How do you feel about that?” I ask. “About him possibly being your father I mean.”
Her bottom lip starts to quiver before she answers. “He ruined my mother’s life; he left her heartbroken and destitute.” Her eyes move back to me, and there’s tears brimming in them. “I hate him for what he did.”
Sighing, I scoot my chair closer. “Don’t worry about any of that right now. Just concentrate on getting better.”
I’d like to think I know my uncle well; he’s a good man. There’s no denying the way he acted towards Brooke’s mother was inexcusable, but in my heart, I know there’s two sides to this story.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Brooke
“Are you ready to blow this joint?” Logan asks, reaching for my hand.
