Page 84 of What Hurts Us

And then the thought of losing Gran slammed into me without warning.

“I need to sit down,” I rasped.

“Come here, baby.” She led me to a cracked vinyl chair and sat with me, keeping her arm around me. “Gran’s okay. She’ll be laid up for a while, but you know her—she’s a tough ol’ bird.”

“Yeah,” I croaked, swiping at a latent tear.

“She asked me to call your dad.” Running her hand through the back of my hair, she added, “If it was anyone but Gran, I wouldn’t have.”

“That’s just like her,” I muttered. “Always playing matchmaker.”

Layla let a quiet laugh slip. “Seems like she just wants everyone in her life to be happy.”

“Something like that.” I cupped her cheek and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’m sorry you had to spend your day off in a hospital.”

She laughed. “It was better than…” Her voice disappeared, and she found a sudden interest in the floor tiles.

“Better than what?”

“Packing,” she admitted.

I draped my arm around her and took her left hand in mine, running my thumb over the ring on her finger. “This is a mess, isn’t it?”

She tipped her head on my shoulder, unbothered by the hard plastic radio or my duty belt digging into her side.

“Maybe we should wait.”

Dark lashes lifted, giving me a peek at her warm brown eyes. “What do you mean?”

I sighed. “It’s gonna wreck Gran when we end things. That, on top of falling and breaking her hip—I don’t want to put more stress on her. So maybe we give it a little more time.”

Layla wiped her eyes. I hadn’t even realized she teared up. “No matter how long we put it off… It’s going to hurt when it’s over.”

“When you were a kid, did you think there were monsters under your bed?”

She shook her head. “Not under the bed. They were in the closet.”

I chuckled, thinking about a four-year-old Layla, begging her mom to check behind rows of clothes. “Those monsters weren’t real. That’s why they couldn’t hurt you. But this?” I let out a heavy breath. “The things that can hurt us are the most real things in our lives. I know that whatever magic we accidentally found is real because the thought of watching you walk away when it’s all over hurts like hell.”

Her lip quivered. “How can you say it’s real and then expect me to walk away?”

“Layla?” A nurse appeared in the doorway. “Mrs. Fletcher is asking for you.”

She wiped her tears and stood, taking my hand and urging me to follow. “We’ll talk at home.”

We walked in silence as Layla escorted me to Gran’s room. My father was nowhere to be found.Just like him.

Gran was sitting up in the hospital bed, watching ACC football highlights on TV. “Well, it’s about fuckin’ time you show up,” she huffed. “I was about to write you outta my will and have Layla get everything.”

Everythingbeing her collection of teapots, a garden shed full of flower bulbs, and Grandad’s clunker of a car that should have been retired years ago.

“I thought I told you to stay out of trouble,” I said as I eased onto the edge of the hospital bed and gave her a feather-light hug.

Gran harrumphed and swatted me away. “Everyone in this damn hospital is overreacting. I just took a little spill, is all. There’s no reason for them to keep me here like a prisoner.”

Layla crossed her arms. “You fractured your wrist, and you’re having surgery tomorrow because you broke your hip. Now, if I hear one word of you giving the nursing staff a hard time, I will personally reroute my chopper and chew you out.Behave.”

Gran glared at Layla, who glared right back.

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