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“What? After all that?”
“She said she could never live in my world. The money, the constant parties…the fancy clothes. She didn’t want anything to do with it. So…she met me in the park at our bench and she ended things. I was absolutely crushed.”
I could see the pain etched in his face after all this time. This woman broke his heart. Was my mother merely a consolation prize?
“Wren, I’m telling you this because I see what this is doing to you. He was shot protecting you.”
“Because he loves me.”
He nodded his head slowly, his eyes watching me carefully. “Yes, protecting you. What happens the next time he’s shot? Will he be protecting you or someone else?”
His words penetrated my brain, but somehow, they didn’t make sense. “He…That wouldn’t happen.”
I turned, but he grabbed my arm, holding me back. “Wren, if he loved you, why would he put you through that? Why would you put yourself through that?”
“Because I love him.”
“Do you love him enough to go through this again?” He took a calming breath. “Wren, I loved Sarah with all my heart and then she crushed it. I was broken. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. Until your mother came along, I didn’t know how I was going to get through it. But she picked me up and forced me to live life again. No, it was not a passionate love, but it was steadfast. She was my anchor. Don’t do that to yourself. Don’t let someone else have that much control over you. It will break you.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but his words struck a chord deep inside me. I was already frazzled and felt like I was slowly crumbling. What would happen to me if he was injured again? Would I ever recover if he was taken from me?
Panic flared deep in my gut at just the thought of him being injured again. I felt like my airways were closing up and I would never breathe easy again. If all this was happening at the mere thought of him being injured, how would I survive day to day? How could I look into his blue eyes every day, knowing he would risk his life for others?
My father was right. As much as I hated to admit it, walking away now was better for both of us. He was going to survive this surgery, but he might not survive the next time he was shot. I would end up alone, depressed and reeling from his loss. And every time I looked in the mirror, I would know that I could have prevented it.
“It’s for the best,” my father said, as if reading my mind.
I nodded and walked with him to the door. “It’s for the best.”
36
BROCK
The beeping of the machines was of little comfort when I woke up. Yes, I was alive, but the ache in my chest was growing by the minute. I struggled to open my eyes in the bright light, desperate to see Wren. The only person I saw was Cash slumped in the corner of the room.
And Fox.
Fuck, he was eating Funyuns right on my fucking bed. Yellow coated the blanket as he grinned and popped a few more in his mouth, bouncing slightly as he hummed a song. My feet were pushed to one side to fit his large frame.
“Fox,” I croaked out. “What the fuck are you doing?”
He jerked upright, shoving the bag of Funyuns behind his back. But his hand—coated in yellow—was still in the open for me to see. “Hey, buddy!”
“Why are you eating Funyuns on my bed?”
“I’m not,” he stuttered. “No, I was…meditating.”
“Your fingers are yellow,” I said, my voice scratchy.
He looked at his fingers, then shoved that hand behind his back also. “No, they’re not.”
“I just saw them.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“I saw the bag of Funyuns too.”
“What bag?” He tossed the bag over the end of the bed. I heard the remaining contents spill on the floor as he shot me a grin. “So, you’re awake!”
