Page 78 of Reckless Love

“He could die,” she says.

“Answer me honestly,” I say, meeting her gaze. “If the situation was reversed, do you think he’d do this to me if it benefitted him? If he’d be better off by fucking me over, would he do it?” I already know the truth, and I don’t need her to admit it. That’s who I married. A carbon copy of my mother.

“To be clear, I’m not helping you get out of your marriage to the man who bankrolled your company, who fathered your child. You would be a fool to leave him.”

In the background, Stephen stiffens, but he doesn’t move from where he’s planted himself. Out of the corner of my eye, I see his hand flex.

“Caitlin’s a good divorce lawyer,” I say. “She helped Maren, and she’ll help me.”

“At least Maren traded up,” my mother says with a huff before she sweeps out of the room. Gage, who’s been standing at the door waiting for her, closes it behind her.

“I was this fucking close to stepping in,” Stephen says, showing the tiniest pinch between his fingers as he comes nearer to the bed. “But it sounded like, at least from our conversation last night, that maybe you needed to stand up to her on your own.”

Fuck, I missed him. I missed this. That he listens. That he understands. That he pays attention in ways that no one else does.

“I’m done feeling like a piece on a board I don’t control.”

“I had a similar thought the other night,” he admits, running his hand along my blanket-covered leg.

“That you didn’t want to be a chess piece controlled by others?”

He lets out a little chuckle. “Close. Just that the choices I’ve made up to this point haven’t brought me happiness. So I have to start taking different risks.”

“Am I a risk?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Mom?” Landon asks.

My attention snaps to him, breaking the bubble Stephen and I were in. Landon’s headphones are off, and he looks exhausted. The doctors said he’s likely to tire easily for a while as a result of the blood loss, the deep cuts, and his concussion.

“Do we get to go home?” he asks.

“We’re going to spend a couple of weeks with Stephen, at his apartment,” I say. “Lorraine and Walter moved out, so we get to stay in their place until we’re both feeling better.”

“What about Dad?” Landon asks. “Where will he live?”

“In Boston,” I say, and again, Stephen tenses beside me, “until he’s better.”

“When’s he coming home?”

“We don’t know,” I say. “Right now, he’s in a big sleep that should help him.”

“When will they wake him up?” Landon asks, head tilted in curiosity, and it strikes me that he’s not worried. Does that mean I’m a good mother, or Raul is a terrible father?

“Hopefully soon,” I say, and I can’t decide whether I want that to be true. When I glance up, Stephen’s expression is shuttered. A shot of anxiety streaks down my spine, settling low in my belly. He hasn’t closed himself off from me since I woke up, and the realization that he can do it again so easily is unnerving.

“But we get to live with you, Stephen?” Landon asks, and the joy in his voice draws Stephen’s attention and his smile.

“That’s right, buddy. I’m going to take care of you and your mom until you’re up to par again.”

“That’s okay with me,” Landon says, and he slides his headphones onto his head and turns back to his book.

“Are we okay?” I ask Stephen. Are we even a “we” to worry about?

“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah. Nothing to worry about.” He smooths my hair, and the tenderness from last night is back. “I’m going to head home for a little while to make sure the place is in good shape for you to arrive.”

“You’re going to drive us to your house, right? You’ll be the one doing it?” I hear the frisson of fear in my voice.

“I’m not sure I’ll let anyone else drive the two of you for the rest of your lives.” Stephen squeezes my hand. “I’ll be back for both of you. I promise.”