Page 68 of Shattered Queens: Veronica
My heart warms at the solid, steady pull in his voice. “She’s stable. Tomas is taking care of her.”
“Baby, you were very brave.” He pauses, and I can hear the shift in his breathing. “I saw everything on the security feed.”
The image of him watching me panic, watching me struggle to carry her, flashes through my mind. I don't know if it’s the raw exhaustion of the night or the sheer relief of hearing his voice, but the words escape my lips before I have a chance to take them back.
“I miss you.”
Without missing a beat, he responds, his voice dropping an octave, thick with a sudden, intense sincerity. “I miss you too. I’ll be there soon.”
I click off the phone and stare at the blank screen. With my chair close to my mother’s bed, I take her hand, and I feel her squeeze it.
“Hi, honey.” Her voice is low, but she’s conscious.
“Mom.” A sob breaks out of me, jagged and raw. “Mom, I was so scared.”
“Shhh, it’s okay. I’m okay.” She reaches out, her touch faint but steady, trying to comfort me even now.
“I was scared I’d fail you. I’ve always been scared.” The confession pours out, my darkest fears finally finding the light. “I was scared that I wouldn’t be able to save you or take care of you like Dad or Ian and Gabe. Because I’m not strong enough.”
“Veronica, you are strong,” she insists, her voice gaining a sliver of strength.
I wipe my tears with the edge of my sweater, the wool rough against my skin. “I am.” I look down at her hand holding mine, seeing the contrast in our skin. “I’m scared that I’ll one day have to go through this,” I admit, the shame of the thought burning in my chest. “That I’ll inherit what you have. That I won’t be able to handle all that comes with it. Mom,you’re the strongest person I know. I’m not you. That’s why I never miss a doctor’s appointment. Whenever I’m being forgetful, I start to panic.” I look up and see the tears tracking down her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Mom.”
“No,” she whispers, her eyes filled with a deep, aching regret. “I’m sorry you never felt you could tell me this.”
"I just didn't want to burden you. I know you worry about me, and I hate myself for that."
"Come here." She shifts her weight, signaling to me to join her on the small hospital bed. I curl into her side, feeling small for the first time in years. "You are never a burden. It pains me to know that you disregard yourself so much just to keep me at peace. Veronica, look at me," she commands softly. I lift my head. "You are so much stronger than you realize.”
I rest my chin on her shoulder, watching the steady drip of the IV. “Mom…what if one day I end up here?”
"You will face it if it comes," she says firmly, pressing a kiss to my temple. "But you cannot spend your life grieving a future that hasn't happened yet.”
I fall asleep in my mother's arms, the rhythmic hum of the monitors finally lulling me into a heavy, dreamless exhaustion. I’m awakened by a shift in weight and the low rumble of voices. At first, I’m disoriented by the antiseptic smell of the room, but then I feel something heavy and warm draped over my legs. I slowly open my eyes and see a head of familiar curly brown hair—Miles.
I hear my father and brothers right outside the room. No doubt shouting orders.
“Hey,” he whispers, his voice gravelly and low.
“Hey,” I croak back. My mind is a fog of sleep and fading adrenaline. I look at the dark window, then back at him. “When did you get here?”
“About an hour ago,” he says, reaching out to brush a stray blonde lock away from my face. “Your dad and brothers rolled in ten minutes later. The hospital staff didn't stand a chance.”
I glance at Mom, who’s still sleeping through the commotion outside, then back at Miles.
“You came,” I murmur.
“I told you I was coming,” he reminds me, his thumb lingering near my temple. “Nothing and no one could keep me away, Veronica.”
A moment later, the door opens, and my father enters the room. Miles keeps his eyes locked on mine, but I see my father throwing metaphorical daggers at him. My brothers follow close behind, their eyes instantly darting to my mother, who’s still sleeping.
Dad walks toward me, motioning for Miles to move. Miles steps back immediately, giving him space. My dad’s embrace is exactly what I need; I collapse into him, clinging to the familiar strength of his arms.
“Dad, I was so scared.” I sob into his chest.
“I know, honey. I know,” he murmurs, holding me tight. “You did amazing. I’m so proud of you.”
Over his shoulder, I look at Ian and Gabe. They’re shooting daggers at Miles, too, their protective instincts dialed up to a dangerous level, but no one speaks a word. The silence is heavy, charged with everything they aren't saying about Miles being here before them.
