Page 72 of A Series of Rooms
It was made easier by Liam’s presence. He hadn’t left Jonah’s side since arriving at the hospital, and he had promised that he would stay with him until Jonah sent him away.
A few days ago, Jonah would have given anything to share one more night in a hotel room with Liam. Now, he was too much of a mess to truly relish the moment, because Jonah’s mother was due to arrive at the hotel in less than an hour.
The last time he had seen her, under the dimmed kitchen light of his childhood home, his mom hadn’t been able to meet his eyes. At the time, he’d felt the scorch of her shame like a physical burn.
Later, he’d wondered if that avoidance had anything to do with the bruise forming beneath his orbital bone in the impression of his father’s hand. Maybe she hadn’t been able to stomach seeing her own betrayal reflected back at her.
If that was the case, he couldn’t imagine her reaction to seeing him now.
Months ago, Jonah had begun to resign himself to the reality that he would never see his family again. As time went on, it had become easier to operate under that assumption than hold out any hope for the alternative. His sins began to pile up: the crimes, the strangers, the drugs. So many betrayals of his own body, his faith, his upbringing, pushing him farther from the light of the affection his parents had once held for their eldest son.
After a while, the thought of seeing his family again, the thought of his family seeinghim, became a fear rather than a comfort. How would it feel to look them in the eye now, after everything he had seen and done?
It was the nightmare that had haunted him for so long, and now it was a monster come to life, staring him in the face.
Making the call hadn’t been easy. He’d gone into it with the full expectation of rejection, either outright or in the form of a dead line and a blocked number. Liam had lent his phone and sat beside him in the hospital bed as he dialed, holding Jonah’s sweaty hand between his own.
The moment he heard his mom’s voice on the other end, however, her familiar cadence of skepticism at the unknown number, Jonah had lost all ability to speak.
Liam had stepped in, after a pleading nod from Jonah.
“Mrs. Prince?” he had said. “I’m here with Jonah.”
Entire lifetimes had passed in the few seconds of silence that followed. Then, barely loud enough to be audible, shehad echoed his name in an exhale that couldn’t have been anything but relief.
It wasn’t a long call, mostly because Jonah couldn’t manage to string more than a couple of words together, but they had ended it with the exchange of a hotel address and a meeting time.
The constant anxiety since then had rendered him exhausted, but Jonah couldn’t sleep. He turned on the TV, then turned it off again. He showered, but he was forced to put on the hospital-issued sweats afterward, making the whole thing feel like a waste.
He avoided the bed altogether, opting instead to sit in the stiff armchair by the window, hugging his knees tightly to his chest. A lukewarm cup of coffee sat beside him on the windowsill, untouched. Liam had prepared it in the cheap coffee maker solely as an attempt to drown out the other smells of the room with a comforting one.
Several times, Jonah tried to give Liam an out. He was aware, however distantly, that it was the day before Christmas. Liam was undoubtedly skipping out on his family traditions in favor of rubbing Jonah’s back as he knelt in front of the toilet, losing his battle to nerves every time he tried to eat something. After everything Liam had already sacrificed for him, it felt wholly unfair for him to give this up, too.
Of course, Liam shut down every attempt. And selfishly, but maybe not so secretly, Jonah was grateful for one man’s unwavering determination to stay.
In the elevator to the lobby, Jonah curled his fingers around the handrail and tried to level his breathing. Liam stood at his side, a silent pillar of support.
Agent Ellis had reserved the hotel’s conference room for the reunion.Neutral ground,he had called it. He wanted to give Jonah privacy while retaining the option to escape to his room if he needed to. Jonah was still too resentful to feel properly grateful, but he couldn’t deny that the safety net was a comfort.
When the elevator doors chimed open on the ground floor, Jonah’s breath caught, as if someone had kinked his oxygen line. He stood frozen for so long that Liam had to wave his hand in front of the sensor to keep the doors from closing.
“You sure you’re ready?” Liam asked.
Jonah forced his eyes to move to him. “She’s already here,” he said weakly.
The line between Liam’s brows pinched tighter. “The choice is still yours.”
That was true on paper, he knew. Shepard was dead, Jonah was a legal adult, and he hadn’t spoken to his parents in over a year. There was no one left to control the trajectory of his life but him. But at that moment, the freedom of choice was just one more burden to shoulder.
Here he was, alive despite everything, standing at the edge of what could have been a new beginning, and he was more terrified than ever.
“I need to see her,” he said finally, forcing himself off the wall.
Liam nodded, falling into step beside him.
When they reached the end of the hallway just off the lobby, Jonah spotted the door to the conference room. It was a warm, dark wood, with a single pane of glass showing through to the other side. There, within the small rectangular frame, Jonah caught a glimpse of silver-streaked brown hair tied back in a bun.
She was turned away, staring out at the overcast sky through the window on the opposite wall. Her body was cloaked in a bulky sweater, but Jonah recognized her immediately.
