Page 93 of To Belong Together
Gannon narrowed his eyes. “I thought tragedy was supposed to pull people together.”
At first, when they’d spent the day talking as they searched, John had expected that to be the case. “She’s upset about her dad, but I think there’s more to it.”
Gannon circled his hand, demanding he continue.
“What happened at the reception bothers me,” John said. “She seems distant.”
Philip must not have heard about the way Erin had left the wedding, because Gannon summarized for him before swinging his focus to John. “You can’t judge by anything that happened after she heard about her dad. From then on, she’s been making decisions under duress.”
“I could’ve helped sooner, if she’d told me.”
Gannon shrugged. “People don’t think straight in emergencies.”
“At first, okay. But she drove my car for hours, and she didn’t think of me?”
Neither of his friends ventured a guess about that one.
“And she did think of me, because she replied to my text. So she knew I was concerned and didn’t tell me. Then she was acting strangely this morning before we got the call.” She’d made him breakfast, but her fleeting eye contact and his unanswered questions about what her uncle had wanted suggested she’d been hiding something.
“What’d she say when you asked?” Philip said.
“I didn’t.” He hadn’t wanted to upset her. Hadn’t wanted to lose her. But what if he already had? John sank lower in his seat.
Gannon scoffed. “This is exactly the kind of thing Adeline was trying to tell you to communicate.”
“I told her the important part—that she matters to me.”
Gannon shot Philip a look, and the bassist snorted.
“What?”
“Your dogs matter to you,” Philip said. “Your cars, having your drums set up just so … If bymattersyou mean you love her, you would’ve been better off telling her that.”
“It’s too soon.” Though he’d tried to move heaven and earth to find her father. And he was waiting here in hopes of lending her any possible comfort. She ought to know how he felt regardless of what he’d said, because his actions had proved it a hundred times over. “The problem isn’t something I didn’t say. It’s something else. Has to be.”
Gannon clapped his shoulder. “This weekend’s been awful. Don’t read too much into it.”
Philip checked something on his phone, then slid the device away again. “Let things settle with her dad, then have the conversation.”
John looked to the door. Beneath the curtain, he watched a pair of sneakers pass by, probably some doctor or nurse hurrying to the next patient.
She was making decisions under duress.
If her default in stressful situations was to push him away, he might not have seen the worst of it yet. Because if she left her father’s side to talk to John, it’d only be because they’d lost him.
Lord, have mercy.
Dad was wellin body and mind now.
Just not on earth.
Erin, Mom, and Susanna stepped from his room and into the hall, leaving hospital staff to tend to his body.
Mom drew a quivering breath, and Susanna wrapped her in a hug.
Erin felt as if she’d been strapped in the driver’s seat of a semitruck without brakes. The engine of grief idled, and the wheels crept into motion. They’d only pick up speed from here. She needed to reach the privacy of home before she crashed.
But she couldn’t leave because she didn’t have her car.
