Page 186 of Delicate Storm

And because of that, he’s been seeing one of Thomas’s friends who’s a child psychologist… And he loves him. He’s really grown in the last couple of months.

“How are you real?” Easton asks, lifting to his elbow as he looks down at me with awe in his expression. “We’ve been together for months and I’m still asking myself that.”

“You once said that you were justyouand I’m the same. I’m just me.” I shrug, feeling uncomfortable under his intense gaze. I don’t think I’m doing anything special—anything differentfrom millions of others—and yet this feels more important than anything I’ve ever done.

“Well, you’re pretty special to me. I—”

Easton’s phone rings, cutting him off, but since it’s out of his reach he ignores it. He’s about to continue whatever he was going to say when my phone rings instead. And it’s Keeley.

“I think she wants you.” I hand him the phone and sit up, a nervous energy running through me.

“Keels?” he answers on speaker, his face dropping when she responds.

“I’m worried about Mom.”

“What happened?”

Keeley sighs. “She said she was fine, but I was just talking to her and I swear she was slurring some of her words. Not all of them but—”

“Enough to worry you?” Easton cuts Keeley off and runs a hand through his hair as he releases a breath through his nose. “She needs to go back to her specialist.”

“I know, but try telling her that.” Easton’s face scrunches. Rochelle is as stubborn as they come where her health is concerned. “Maybe Paige can talk to her? It’s harder to argue with someone that isn’t a family member.”

“Have you met Mom?” Easton counters. “She’ll argue with anyone. And Paigeisa family member. I hope she slaps you for that comment.”

He turns my way with wide eyes, and I laugh. Lucky for him, I knew what she meant.

Easton and Keeley fall silent, and I almost take the phone away to speak for them, until I realize they’re both lost in thought. They’ll never admit how alike they are and deny it when I point it out. “I don’t know what to do, Keels,” Easton says after the longest pause, “but we can’t sit still and do nothing.”

“I know. Are you around tomorrow? Family day?”

Easton glances my way, and I nod. “We’ll be there.”

He hangs up and sinks into the bed, looking more defeated than he did when he first walked in. He’s quiet until he reaches out and pulls me into his arms. “I don’t want to lose her, Paige. It’s going to kill Isaac.”

“Just Isaac?”

He hides his face in my neck and shakes his head. “It’s going to kill me too.”

“Whatever happens, we’re going to get through this together. But for now, we need to keep acting like she’s well. She deserves that.”

Easton groans and I laugh. “I both love and hate when you’re right, D’Angelo. Maybe forcing her to see specialists isn’t going to help. She knows what it is.”

“Exactly.”

“So instead, we should, I don’t know…take more photos, be more present, try and keep things as normal as possible but also help in any way we can.”

“I think she’ll like that. And…ah…speaking of photos,”—I grimace—“I did a thing.”

Easton sits up and frowns in confusion. “You did a thing?”

“Yeah. And I wasn’t sure if I’d ever share it, but I think your mom might like it.”

“What is it?”

Instead of explaining, I get up and head out to the living room, grabbing my sketchbook from the drawer in the desk I've taken over. As I walk back to the bedroom, my breath catches, my heart slamming in my chest. I’ve shown Easton my sketches before, but this one is a little different, and I’ve been holding on to it for a while.

Forcing out a shaky breath, I climb onto the bed and hand over my book. “Have a look at the back page.”

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