Beyond What is Given(36)

And when he called…I didn’t answer.





Chapter Twelve


Grayson


“I come bearing gifts.” Miranda smiled as she waddled into Grace’s hospital room, a cooler bag over her shoulder. Her blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail, highlighting the heart-shaped face she shared with Grace.

“You’re not supposed to be carrying anything.” I took the warm bag.

“Yeah, well I figured you could use some good home cookin’.” She made her way to the chair at Grace’s bedside and deflated into it. “God, I feel the size of a house.”

“You’re beautiful.”

She raised an eyebrow and ignored me. “Nothing new?”

I shook my head. “She’s on antibiotics, so now we wait for the infection to clear.”

“How have you been?” she asked, motioning to the bag. “Eat while you talk.”

I unpacked hot biscuits and gravy. “A lot better now. Thank you, Miranda.”

“Life in Alabama?”

Sam’s face flashed across my mind. Damn it. Why wouldn’t she answer my phone calls? I had to explain. She had to understand.

“Gray?”

I blinked. “Busy.”

“Mom says you’re still here once a month, if not more.”

I nodded. “I get back as often as I can, and it’s never really enough.”

“I…appreciate that. She does, too.” She sighed. “But you have a life to lead, Gray. You can’t just…waste away here with her. I know you want to. I know you would have died in her place. But you didn’t, and you deserve a life that doesn’t revolve around”—she motioned to the hospital room—“around all of this.”

My appetite died a swift death. “It’s exactly what I deserve.”

She tilted her head to the side and rubbed her hand over her stomach. “You didn’t do this to her, Gray. I know no matter how many times I say that, you’re still not going to believe me, but you didn’t do this.”

My gaze darted to Grace, her eyes still closed peacefully as her chest rose and fell with even breaths. It was easier while she slept, where I could pretend that she’d wake up and we’d have the same fight about me going off to the Citadel while she had opted for UNC. When she was awake…well, there was no pretending.

An alarm beeped on Miranda’s phone and she sighed as she silenced it. “Well, that’s my signal to get upstairs to OB. Time for the weekly poke-n-prod. This little gal is just about ready to make her jailbreak.”

I offered my arm and pulled her to standing. “Thanks, Gray. I’m awful with balance lately.”

“No problem.”

“We’re still really hopeful for her cord blood,” she said as she neared the door. “I’ve read a ton of research on stem cells, and if she’s a match, there’s a chance the University of Texas—”

“That’s great, Miranda. I’m really happy for you and James. Your daughter is one lucky kiddo to get you two as parents.” I had to cut her off. Hope was something I couldn’t afford anymore. Not after five years.

She tilted her head, so Grace-like, and paused before a small smile peeked through. “I meant what I said, Gray. You’ve grown into a good man. None of this is your fault. None of it.”

She left for her appointment, and I turned my attention to Grace, pulling my chair closer so I could hold her hand while she slept. Her fingers were so slender, long to match the rest of her dancer’s body. Well, the body that had once danced.

It didn’t matter what anyone else said. I knew the truth.

I’d done this to her.



Sam still wasn’t answering my calls. I gripped my cell phone so tight I thought it might crack and rested my forehead against the wall in the hospital hallway. I was ripping in two, half of me here with Grace, where I was obligated to be, and the other at Fort Rucker, where I needed to be.

I touched the icon next to Josh’s name, and it started to ring.

“Man, I have no clue what the hell you were thinking, but you’ve had me cock-blocked all weekend.”

“How is she?” Damn, was that my voice or a frog?

“My girlfriend? She hasn’t had nearly enough sex due to the insane ice-cream mope-fest your girlfriend is putting her through. Or wait, are you in North Carolina with your other girlfriend? Does kissing the hell out of your roommate make her your girlfriend? I’m all sorts of confused.” His voice was about as subtle as a razor blade.

What the hell was Sam? My girlfriend? My friend? My roommate? Fuck. I wanted her, that much was pretty self-evident by the raging hard-on I got the minute we breathed the same air. But it wasn’t just sexual. I admired her strength, her courage, the way she stood up after she got knocked down. Hell, I even liked the way she had an impetuous streak…as long as she kept her ass off the bar. But saying she was my girlfriend was a commitment, and how could I make that kind of statement when I was still committed to Grace?

“Masters?”

“Yeah.”

“Is it true? Do you have a girlfriend there?” His voice dropped just beneath hostile.

Shouldn’t there have been an audible boom, or something else to signify my worlds crashing together? Shit. I needed advice.