Page 61 of The Geography of Happiness

I huffed. “Doesn’t make it right.”

He reached across and took my hand. “That’s why God invented apologies, right?”

That made me laugh. “Thank you. For everything, but mostly for hanging around and just being here for me... forus.”

He squeezed my hand. “Where else was I going to be? You still owe me a coffee, remember? Don’t think you’re off the hook.”

“You’re impossible.” I stared at Spencer across the bed. This handsome, decent man who’d unexpectedly walked into my life and stepped up when I needed it. “Look at her,” I whispered, freeing my hand from his to brush the back of my fingers down Hannah’s cheek. “I think I actually stopped breathing when I saw all the blood.”

Spencer straightened Hannah’s covers and tucked the sheet under her chin. “She’s a sight, all right. But she’s gonna be okay.”

“Thistime,” I reminded him. “She’s gonna be all rightthistime.” I breathed shakily and watched the soft rise and fall of Hannah’s chest.

“Borrowing trouble isn’t helpful,” Spencer reminded me. “We can only deal with each thing as it happens, right? One day at a time. One accident. One success. One mistake. One goal. One achievement. It’s the same for everyone.”

I looked over and rolled my eyes. “You make it sound so easy. But let me tell you, as a parent, it’s anythingbuteasy. You’ll find out.”

He said nothing, and when I replayed the words in my head, I cursed my stupid brain. “Shit, I’m sorry. That was total bullshit. You’ve already been there in lots of ways. See, I said I was in arsehole mode.”

His expression softened and a sly smile stole over his lips as he leaned across the bed. I met him halfway and he whispered in my ear, “I can handle a fair amount of arsehole, just so you know.”

I choked back a laugh and pulled away, grinning from ear to ear. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

Spencer waggled his brows and I shook my head in amusement. I didn’t understand how he was doing it, but I felt lighter just having him in the room.

Hannah shuffled onto her side but didn’t wake. I repositioned her pillow under her head and gently stroked her hair. “This thing she has, Spencer. This juvenile idiopathic arthritis, it’s a bastard of a condition. It stole her childhood. When she should’ve been running and climbing trees and swimming and all that great stuff, she was holed up at home instead, dealing with years of painful joints. Some kids get it worse than others. Some grow out of it. Some don’t. Manyget to remission and some stay in it, some don’t. Some need medications to maintain it and the meds aren’t always fun. Even if Hannah is lucky enough to go into long-term remission, nothing can fix the catalogue of damage already done to her body.”

“Damn.” Spencer reached across and took my hand. “I had no idea.”

I huffed softly. “Not surprising. Most people never even hear the name juvenile idiopathic arthritis. Hannah’s been through a merry-go-round of treatments—medication, physio, cycles of remission and exacerbation, and the ever-present threat of surgery. Joint replacement and spinal fusion are a couple that we’ve been desperately trying to avoid. She’s been walking a fine line with those for years.”

Spencer squeezed my hand. “No wonder you panicked when you heard about her fall. Zach’s lucky you didn’t deck him.”

I shook my head and returned to studying Hannah. “Nice try, but there’s no sugarcoating the fact I behaved like a total arsehole. It wasn’t Zach’s fault. It wasn’t anyone’s. And it wasn’t the first time we’ve faced something like this, so I damn well know you can’t always prevent accidents. I don’t want him feeling bad.”

Spencer snorted. “Good luck with that. He’s a touch over-responsible is our Zach.”

I smiled weakly and caught Spencer’s eye. “He’s not the only one, right? You and I walk that road too.”

Spencer returned my smile, those dark brown eyes gentle on mine. “I’ve really tried to work through all that history and move on.”

I raised a brow and chose my words carefully. “Oh, if it were that easy. And I wasn’t aware that running away counted as working it through.”

He blinked, then huffed a soft laugh. “Touché.”

“It wasn’t meant as a criticism,” I quickly added, thinking that it sounded exactly like that. “Just a reminder. In my experience we often simply substitute one obsession for another.”

He said nothing for a second, then swallowed and cleared his throat. “Yeah, I think maybe you’re right.”

The moment stretched in silence as we sat staring at each other across Hannah’s bed like it was the most natural thing in the world. I hadn’t told Judah half of what I’d shared with Spencer, and I still didn’t truly understand what it was about the man that made me feel so safe. I knew I should look away, that I wasn’t making things easier for myself, but something stopped me. Stopped Spencer as well, it seemed, and yet he didn’t look uncomfortable.

“I’m not ready for Hannah to grow up, Spencer.” The whispered words were out before I could stop them, shocking me in the process. “In the she’s-ready-but-I’m-not kind of way.”

“Doesn’t every parent go through that?” he countered softly.

“I guess, but I’m worried that I don’t feel even close, and I should. I should be thrilled that she’s looking at something as formidable as living away from home at a boarding school. That says a lot about how confident she feels, which is everything we’ve worked toward. And to be fair, most days she manages fine on her own. But on a bad day, she can’t even get out of bed without help, let alone get to class or do laundry, things the rest of us take for granted.”

I switched my gaze to Hannah, but she was still sleeping deeply, unaware of her father quietly losing his mind. “To imagine her in a boarding school, making daily decisionswithoutme being there to protect her? Jesus. There’s so much at stake. It makes my head spin. The fear of what might happen paralyses me. And I know it’s not fair to her. It’s not even healthy.” I turned back to Spencer. “But I can’t seem to stop.”

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