Page 73 of Hello Handsome
“I know you need to go home,” I told him. “Your kids need you, and even if they don’t, you have a ranch there, too.”
Concern knitted his eyebrows together. “I don’t want you to do this on your own.”
His care for me knotted my chest. It seemed like I was more loved than I ever knew. “Etta called me earlier,” I explained, a touch of wonder to my voice. “They did a fundraiser at the diner and the grocery store so I could afford a six-month rental here while Enzo needs me the most.”
His lips parted, blue eyes dark in the dimly lit room. “They raised that much?”
I nodded as my eyes stung with tears for the millionth time that week. As a teen mom, I felt shame so much of the time in our small town. Turns out, I had more people rooting for Enzoand me than I thought. It made me even more grateful for the community I called home.
“That’s amazing.” He kissed my forehead. “And amazing for you to be here for Enzo.”
“I know we have things to talk about…” I glanced down, worried what I’d find in his expression. Because the first night, I may have asked him to share the bed with me out of desperation. But for the other days this week?
It was because I was tired of fighting my feelings for Gray.
The question was, what were his feelings for me?
“You need to be here for Enzo,” Gray said. “Don’t worry about me. We can talk about us later.”
I knew he was right, but my heart still ached that life was finding yet another way to keep us apart. “Okay. I won’t worry about you.” I barely managed a teasing tone.
A bittersweet smile touched his lips. And for the first time, he didn’t lie with me until we fell asleep. He got up and went to the shower, taking a long time in the water. Sensing he needed time with his thoughts, I dressed in my pajamas and pretended to be asleep when he got back in bed. I was awake long after his breathing became slow and measured with sleep.
In the morning, he came to the hospital with me and said goodbye to Enzo. I gave them their time together, trying—and failing—to gather myself and my feelings.
So when Gray met me in the waiting room to say goodbye, tears were already falling down my cheeks. There were people around, but the hospital wasn’t a place to be shy with my sadness. Everyone had too many of their own problems to be concerned with my emotions.
I stood up from the hard pleather chair, saying, “Let me walk you out.” I brushed tears off my cheek with the heel of my hand but more kept coming.
“Aggie…” Gray breathed.
I reached for his duffel bag in the chair next to mine, but he covered my hand with his, not letting me pick it up.
When I turned to face him, there was a sad look in his eyes. He opened his arms for me.
I looked at him for a moment, in his jeans and T-shirt and cowboy boots that looked so out of place in Hawaii. At his soft lips and kind, light-blue eyes, which had been a staple in my life over the years. I’d known Gray longer than I hadn’t known him.
And the thought of being in Hawaii without him wrecked me. As a fresh round of sobs shook my shoulders, I fell into his hug, letting his strength keep me standing.
For the millionth time this week, I felt bad for judging his grieving process. Especially with how gentle he’d been with me, knowing that Enzo would recover and eventually thrive.
“I couldn’t have made it through this week without you,” I whispered into his chest.
He held me quietly a moment longer before pulling back and palming my cheek. “You’re stronger than you know, Ags. But I’m always just a phone call away when you need a moment to be weak.”
My heart twinged, rejecting the idea of having him an ocean away when he’d been so close this week. “I’ll see you in Cottonwood Falls?”
His lips quirked. “I’ll see you in Cottonwood Falls.”
47
AGGIE
Six Months Later
Never in mylife had I had so many days off in a row.
Of course, most of my free time was spent helping Enzo get to appointments and perform his at-home rehabilitation workouts. I’d never been prouder of him than seeing him put in the work to heal his body–even when it hurt, even when he was tired, even when it seemed like progress was slower than watching the lush green blades of grass grow in the common area of the apartment building where we were staying.
