Page 58 of Connor

Something flickered in Aiden’s eyes, something hard, something I wasn’t sure I wanted to name. “Yeah,” he said, voice quiet but sure. “This time, I’m sure.”

I swallowed hard, my throat tight.

This time.

I wanted to believe him. I really did.

But I’d spent too many years watching our mother fold under the weight of love twisted into something ugly. Watching her flinch when she thought no one was looking. Watching her make excuses. And I knew better than anyone—people don’t change.

Not really.

Aiden shoved his hands into his pockets, exhaling slowly. “She’s at the hospital. I was gonna leave after the cops were done with my statement. They can figure out the rest themselves. I want to get the fuck out of here. You coming?”

I hesitated. I wasn’t sure I could handle this. Wasn’t sure I had anything to say to her that wouldn’t come out sharp-edged and too fucking cruel. But then—somewhere deep down, underneath all the anger, all the resentment, all the shit I hadn’t figured out how to deal with—there was something else. Something softer.

Something that still cared.

I nodded once, and we headed to his car.

***

The hospital smelled like antiseptic and something else—something stale, like the air had been recycled too many times. The harsh fluorescent lighting made everything look paler, washed out, like the life had been drained out of the place.

I hated hospitals.

Too many memories of waiting rooms, of stitched-up knuckles, of long nights hoping Mom wouldn’t lie for him again.

Aiden and I walked in silence, past the nurses' station, past the hushed conversations and the beeping machines. My chest felt tight, my pulse an uneven rhythm I couldn’t get under control.

Mom was awake when we got to her room.

She looked smaller than I remembered. Like whatever fight she’d been holding on to had drained out of her the second shewasn’t standing in front of him anymore. There was a bruise blooming along her cheekbone, dark and ugly, and a cut on her lip that looked fresh. But she was sitting up, her hands folded in her lap, her gaze distant until she saw us.

Then—her face softened.

“Connor,” she murmured, like she hadn’t expected me to come.

I swallowed hard and stepped inside, Aiden right behind me. He went straight to her, his hand squeezing her hand, quiet reassurance in his touch. She patted his hand gently before looking back at me.

“Didn’t think you’d want to see me,” she admitted, voice quiet, careful.

I shoved my hands in my jacket pockets, shifting my weight. “Yeah, well. Here I am.”

Her lips twitched, like she wanted to smile but didn’t quite have the energy. “Yeah. Here you are.”

Aiden pulled a chair up next to the bed, sitting beside her. I didn’t.

For a long time, none of us said anything. I could feel her watching me, like she was waiting for something. And fuck, maybe she knew exactly what was on my mind because suddenly, the words were tumbling out before I could stop them.

“I’m sorry,” I admitted, my voice rough. “About how I’ve been behaving. There was a lot going on and I couldn’t figure out what was happening in my head.” I swallowed hard, thinking back on our previous conversation. She’d accused me of being heartbroken. “You were right.”

“About?” Mom questioned, and even Aiden eyed me strangely as I tugged at the collar of my t-shirt then sighed.

Instead of explaining, I just grudgingly stated. “It was Summer.”

“What was Summer?” Mom questioned, then Aiden’s eyebrow flickered up.

“What, Summer Blake?” he asked as I went to sit on the seat on Mom’s other side.

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