Pieces of Us (Confessions of the Heart, #3)(72)

“Did you seeeee me?” he asked hopefully, smiling his crooked smile, and my heart that was already wrung out squeezed.

Squeezed so tight that it wrenched out this soggy feeling that I couldn’t fully process. This feeling that left me gutted and overjoyed.

Aching and full.

Like I was on the cusp of something bigger than I ever could have imagined and the weight of it was already too much.

“Yeah, buddy, I was watching every second. You did amazing. Just like I knew you would. Dillon and I were cheering for you the whole time.”

His grin widened, and the kid blushed, his bony shoulders going up to his ears. Like he was shy that I was giving him praise and hungry for the attention at the same time.

There went my heart again.

This bam, bam, bam that was making my head spin.

“You did so good, Ben-Ben! You’re going to be so strong. Stronger than any of us! I bet you aren’t even gonna need those crutches.” Dillon leaned on me, his arm around my neck where I knelt down, kid glued to my side.

I was pretty sure that was right where he’d always belonged.

“Watch out Dilllon, I’ll be fassster than you.” Teasing pride billowed from my boy.

Dillon’s eyes bugged out with the suggestion. “Well, maybe the same fast. I don’t think you should be too fast. How about that?”

It was the first time all hour I almost had the urge to laugh. This sibling rivalry that was all too sweet.

Relief coming on after the battering storm.

Izzy had warned that Benjamin’s session was going to be grueling.

I wasn’t close to being prepared for what that really meant.

For an hour, I’d had to sit and watch my son cry tears of pain and frustration.

Kid had been pushed to the limits.

Pushed to the extreme.

The whole thing had been about recording his baseline so they could set goals and parameters for the direction they were going to take his treatment. See where his strengths and his weaknesses were. Where the improvements could be found and where the focus needed to be.

I got it.

Understood it.

At least my brain did.

Thing was, my spirit had so not been on board with any of that shit.

Whole time, I’d sat there with my knee bouncing a million miles a minute.

Soul raging.

Banging at its confines.

Had to stop myself about fifteen different times from jumping out of my seat and demanding that they stop.

Never expected my heart to ache this way. In a crazy way that didn’t quite make sense.

No, it didn’t come close to coming from personal experience, but I thought it was safe to assume most parents wanted to protect their children. Shield them from pain.

Shelter them from suffering.

But this? It had been fucking brutal. Every second he’d been through slowly killing me.

What only confused it was the massive amount of pride that had soared in me every damn time he’d cheer in victory. When the therapist would shout encouragement that he was doing great.

Talk about not knowing how to stand under the upheaval. I had all but dropped to my knees when the therapist had given him a high-five and told him he was finished.

“We have about an hour before we need to meet your mom. I think a celebration is in order,” I said, glancing between the boys. “What do you think?”

“I love celebrations!” Dillon was all too quick to agree. “What kind of celebration are we going to have? A trip to Disneyworld?”

A chuckle left me as I looped an arm around the kid’s waist. “I was thinking something more along the lines of ice cream. Getting a little ahead of yourself, aren’t you, Lil’ Dill?”

“Mom says I’m always getting ahead of myself, but I run really fast, just like Ben-Ben is gonna. And I just really wanna go, and we’ve never been, and it looks so super cool. Please, can we go? I got a piggy bank, and it’s almost full. I can give you some dollars.”

Laughter rolled out, and I ruffled his hair. “Maybe another time, Lil’ Dill. Pretty sure your mom wouldn’t be too happy about that idea right now. Besides, we only have an hour. Don’t think we can quite squeeze that in.”

“Ah, man, why’s she always gotta be a funsucker?”

Could feel the force of Benjamin’s smile. “Because we’re tttroublemakers. She’s gotttt to keep us in llline.”

“Troublemakers? You two? I don’t believe it.”

“Believe it, Mr. Mack,” Dillon claimed. “I mean, not bad guy troublemakers. Wait, is that the same thing? Oh man, I hope not. I don’t want to get arrested.”

“So far, I think you’re fine. Just don’t push it,” I teased, and then I pushed to standing, taking Dillon’s hand and winding an arm around Benjamin’s shoulders to lead them out.

We stepped out into the late afternoon, three of us together, walking along like we were a family.

Family.

I gulped around the thought of it. The agony of it.

Something I’d never really had. Something I’d witnessed with Izzy and her parents, so close, but always out of reach.

I got them into the truck that I’d rented while mine was being repaired, and ten minutes later we were standing at the ice cream counter with a slew of flavors beckoning from behind the curved glass.