Page 170 of Always Love You More

Then she turns her focus to me. “I hope everything’s okay.”

“Thank you,” I respond before Jameson leads me to the car.

The hospital doors slide open, a sterile smell and cold air hitting my skin.

We turn into the waiting room, and I tense when I hear my father yelling, “Don’t you fucking tell me to calm down!”

He’s pacing in front of where Cathleen sits, bouncing a crying Jace on her lap.

“Jesus,” he shouts. “Does that kid ever shut up?”

A woman wearing scrubs stands across from him. “Sir,” she says sternly. “You need to sit down or step outside.”

He turns to face her, muttering something I can’t make out before he storms off, walking past me like I’m not even here.

Jameson’s grip on my hand tightens as we walk up to Cathleen.

When Jace sees me, he squirms in her lap, holding out his arms to me. I step forward, dropping Jameson’s hand and reaching for him. “Hi, baby,” I murmur as he tucks his head into the crook of my neck.

Cathleen stands, rolling out her shoulders. “They took him back into surgery a few minutes ago.”

“That quick?” I ask.

“I didn’t understand a lot of what they were saying. I hate when they use all those fancy words, you know?”

I nod.

“But they were saying stuff like trauma and other things that …” She shifts nervously. “I think it might be really bad.”

I look over my shoulder, toward the door our father just exited. “Dad?”

“You saw him,” she says.

“Maybe we should—”

“I’ll go,” she cuts in, dropping her gaze to Jace. “You stay with him.”

“Are you sure? ’Cause I can—”

“I’m sure,” she answers firmly. “I’ll deal with him.” She nods to the chair she was just in. “Sit. I’ll be back.” She looks over at Jameson. “You staying with her?”

He nods.

She watches him for a minute, noting his protective stance beside me. “Good,” she says before starting after our father.

Chapter 40

Sam

“Sam!”Carsonyellsfromhis place on the recliner.

Standing in front of the stove, I roll my eyes. This is thethirdtime he’s called me over since I woke up this morning.

I quickly turn off the burner underneath the eggs I’m cooking and step into the living room, taking in his slumped form, his braced knee stretched out in front of him.

He ended up tearing his ACL and dislocating his knee. So, like Cathleen suspected … it was bad. Possibly thecareer-endingkind of bad. Now his dream to play quarterback in college is fully dependent on how his recovery goes.

The first few weeks after the surgery were rough, his and my father’s anger spiraling out of control. Now they both seem to have slipped into denial, their anger morphing into depression.