Page 91 of The Breakaway

Dad reached out and took my hand. "Thanks for coming."

I blinked back tears, trying to keep my emotions in check. "I just . . . I don't know what I would do if . . ."

He squeezed my hand. "Hey, none of that. I'm not going anywhere, okay?"

I nodded, but the lump in my throat wouldn't go away. I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my ears. "When I got the call this morning, for a second, I thought I would never get the chance to tell you." I took another breath, my chest tight. "I know you both love me and want what's best for me. And I knowthis isn’t probably what you want to talk about, but—” My voice caught. I stared down at the white sheets, and my dad squeezed my hand. Just like Rob had in the hall.

I lifted my head and drew a breath. “Back when I told you what happened with Eric . . . I felt like you didn't believe me. You didn't stand up for me, and that hurt. A lot." My voice wavered. “I know you think I should get over it, but I can’t. It happened, and as much as I want to be with you for Christmas, I can’t be there with him. I’m sorry if that hurt you.”

My mom fidgeted with a loose thread on her sweater, and my dad looked down at his hands. He shifted, the bed creaking under his weight.

I hated that they were uncomfortable, but I needed them to understand. My parents were good people. I knew that.

My dad cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, Sharla. We . . . I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to believe it. I wanted to protect you, but I didn't know how."

My mom nodded, her eyes glassy. "We never meant to make you feel like you were alone in that. We just couldn’t believe—" She paused, blinking fast. “You two seemed like such good friends. It didn’t make sense, but I did a little research.” She dropped her eyes. Twisting her hands in her lap. “It seems that’s common. And I’m sorry I didn’t know that.”

My mom had done research? I exhaled, feeling a weight lift off my chest. I knew they couldn't fully understand, but they'd heard me.

"Maybe we could come to Calgary and do gifts and go out for dinner on the twenty-fourth?" My mom’s voice was as tentative as a mouse poking its head out of a hole.

I nodded. She still wasn’t going to kick my cousins out, but this was something. "I think that sounds good."

My dad brightened at that. "I think that's a lovely idea." He reached out and took my mom's hand. They chatted about wherewe should go, and I listened, only half invested. I'd come down here and had the conversation I needed to have. The rest of it was just gravy.

My mom glanced at the clock. "You should get some rest. I know they're planning to discharge you, but you should still take it easy."

My dad waved her off. "I'm not an invalid. I'll be fine."

That was my cue. I leaned in to give him a hug. "I'm glad you're okay, Dad."

He squeezed my hand. "Me too, sweetheart. Me too."

I smiled at Mom, then with a round of “I love you”’s, exited to the hall. Rob pushed off the wall and followed me down the hallway and out of the hospital. When we got to the truck, I climbed in, and he started the engine. The warmth from the heater was a welcome change from the cold air outside, and I settled back against the seat.

Rob reached for the gear shift to pull out of the parking lot, and his hand brushed mine. My breath caught, and I jerked back, planting both of my hands firmly in my lap.

My heart hammered in my chest, and I stared straight ahead, focusing on the snowflakes swirling in the headlights. Rob didn’t look at me, but he didn’t move his hand either. It stayed right there on the console, begging to be held.

“How did it go?”

“Good. He’s being discharged soon.” I thought about telling him the rest, but the lines of his letter scrolled in my head.I love you. I’m in love with you.

This wasn’t fair to him. To keep sharing things with him, to keep drawing him closer when I was still with Logan. So I stayed silent.

We stepped inside, and I shut the door, the sound echoing in the silence of the house. I shrugged out of my coat, hung it on the hook by the door, and slipped out of my boots. Rob did the same.

I walked into the room and turned to him. “Thank you.”

He stood in front of the door. “You’re welcome.” He looked like he didn’t know what to do with his hands. “Do you want to get dinner? I don’t start work until?—”

“No.” I shook my head. “I mean, thanks, but no. I think I’m going to read or something.”

He nodded. “Okay.”

I turned to walk to my room.

“Did I do something wrong?” Rob asked.

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