Page 161 of How You See Me
When the morning light sneaks through the blinds, I give up and take a quick shower while Ava eats breakfast with her nurse. Then, we work on our art project until our family joins us with him in tow.
Apparently, my father will be around a lot more now. I don’t know how to feel about that yet, but it’s not like I have a say either.
Mom eyes are searching, almost pleading as she pulls me into a hug. She wants to talk.
I press a kiss to her temple and flee her arms before she can rope me with a conversation I don’t have the bandwidth for. Not here. Not in front of Ava. “I need coffee. Anyone else?”
With no takers, I tap Ava’s leg—a silentI’ll be back soon—and escape, feeling more like a coward than son or brother this morning. Guilt and exhaustion cover me, hiding how I’m unraveling at the seams underneath.
Bursting through the hospital doors, sunlight dances on my face. I pause on the top step, let the spring air fill my lungs. It smells of blooms and new beginnings, even though my life feels stalled. The chirping birds and rustle of leaves overhead try to remind me to appreciate the little things, as Josie would. Maybe I could if I had the energy for anything other than the basics.
The café down the block is blessedly quiet. The scent of roasted beans and fresh pastries awaken my emptystomach the moment I enter. It grumbles, begging me to feed it, but eating feels more like a chore, not a solution.
At the counter, I order my usual—black coffee—and tack on a banana nut muffin. Not because I’m hungry, but because my mother doesn’t need the added stress of another child in the hospital. One crisis at a time.
Maybe some caffeine will jog my memory—remind me where I left my sanity. Last time I felt it’s presence, I was in the van with—
“Josie.”
I freeze. Blink once. Twice.
She’s standing right here, peeled her out of my thoughts and placed right in front of me. Not on a phone screen. Not two thousand miles away.Here. In Virginia. The last time we talked, she was at a Vegas club, enjoying her vacation as she should be.
“Hi.” She smiles, understanding the improbability of this moment.
“What are you . . .” My voice trails off, tangled in disbelief.
“You’ve been my rock more times than I can count. I figured I could return the favor. You sounded off last night.”
“I’d have used a more colorful word.”
“I bet. I almost said something similar on the plane.” Her head tilts, playful and expectant. “Is there a reason you’re still over there? Or will I get a hug sometime today?”
“Oh, my God, yes.”
In three strides, I cross what feels like a canyon between us and take her in my arms. Her body melts into mine, pouring out her love and grace as she always does. Warmth spreads from my chest down to my fingertips. This—she—is what I’ve been missing. The place I find myself again.
I kiss her hair, breathing her in.
“Wait.” I pull back but stay connected to her, my fingers linking with hers. “You flew? Holy shit, Josie . . .”
“I know.” She lets out a weary giggle. “I’d do anything for you, Hayes. Absolutely, anything.”
“I can’t believe it.” I hug her again, trying to believe what my arms are telling me. “How was it?”
“Terrifying.” She heaves a long sigh into my shirt. “But you’re more than worth it.”
I lean back enough to see her face—red cheeks, eyes like the ocean, skin I’ve memorized. She’s even more beautiful than in the photos on my phone and the memories I clung to though the restless night.
“What about your show?”
“I’ve got time before my commitments.” She lifts a hand to my cheek, brushing a thumb along the edge of my unshaven jaw. “Today and tonight are yours. Whatever you need.”
I don’t bother trying to list all the ways I need her. I kiss her instead, waiting for the noise in my head and around us to fade away. People are probably staring, but I don’t care. Let them witness true love.
“You’re all I need,” I whisper, then reluctantly release her. “Can I get you anything?”
She gives me a timid smile. “No, thanks. I’m too jittery to eat.”
