“What did Dad say to you? That night? What did he say that set you off?”
I rub my temples, resting my head in my hand because I really am exhausted, and my head feels like a lead weight. “That he’s pretty sure I’m not even his son.” The words come out flat, almost robotic, like saying them too softly might make them cut deeper. The truth is, I should be thrilled to know I don’t share the same DNA with that blood sucker, but it still sings. To be reminded once again that I’m still the kid nobody wants. The one who was easy to beat on because I was nothing to him but free labor on his ranch that he abandoned.
Scarlett stills, her expression unreadable for a second before she shakes her head. “You’re nothing like him.”
“Neither are you and Seth.”
She nods. “I know. But that was a shitty thing for him to say on an already emotional day. I’m sorry, Hayes.”
I grunt in response, stabbing at my food without really eating it. We sit in silence for a while longer, an hour passing with Scarlett filling the empty space with stories about her upcoming visit to New York and the happenings back home on the ranch. I know she’s only talking to distract me, to keep my mind from spiraling while we wait for more news on Regan, and I appreciate it though I don’t show it. Her voice is a low, steady hum, something grounding me when I feel like I’m floating just outside my own body.
Finally, she checks her watch. “The horses will be delivered in thirty minutes. We should really go.”
I don’t want to leave the hospital. I don’t want to leave Regan. But she’s probably right. Just then, the cafeteria door swings open, and Doctor Singh steps inside, her eyes scanning the room like she’s looking for someone. I push back my chair so fast that my fork clatters to the floor.
“Doctor. What’s going on?”
She smiles as she walks toward me, a clipboard tucked under her arm. “Hi, Doctor Walker. I just finished my assessment of Regan. She looks great.”
I exhale a breath. “Yeah?”
She nods. “No physical impairments or cognitive issues. We’ll start her in physical therapy tonight just to be sure, but aside from the lapse in her memory, she’s doing really well given the circumstances. The coma was the right decision.”
“When can she come home?”
“I’d say another two to three days, then we can re-evaluate.”
I nod, trying to process what that means. Where will she go when she’s discharged? Will she come home to our house at the Manor, or back to the Marshalls’? Does she even know where home is right now?
The cafeteria door swings open again, and this time, it’s Molly. “Hey, Hayes,” she says with a wave and a smile.
“Molly,” I nod back because despite everything, she’s probably been the most level-headed with me. I’m sure it’s her training as a cop and in crisis management that’s lending to that right now.
“I just saw her again,” she says, a glimmer of hope in her expression. “She looks really good.”
My stomach clenches. “Fuck, I’m happy to hear that. Does she… does she remember?”
Her smile falters. “No, she doesn’t. But I explained to her that she was in a car accident. That she bought Mrs. Mayberry’s Manor after she passed away and that’s where she’s been living. She seemed okay with that information so far.”
I let out a slow breath, nodding, trying to keep the panic at bay. “So, when are we going to tell her that I live there too?”
Molly hesitates before answering. “Declan’s coming by in a few hours after his shift at Whitewood Creek Plumbing. He’s going to tell her about their breakup and his proposal that she turned down. Rae, Lydia, and I are going to stick around for that to be sure he tells her the full truth. Then we’ll explain your role. See if she remembers you from seven years ago.”
I swallow hard. “And I can’t be there for that part?”
Molly shakes her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. This is a lot for her to take in.”
I huff out a breath, frustration gnawing at the edges of my restraint. I want to argue. I want to assert myself. But I also know she’s probably right and I’m done being selfish. I want to do what’s right for Regan, and besides, my girl is coming home.
Soon.
Scarlett grabs my hand, squeezing lightly. “Let’s go get the horses and clean up the house so it’s ready for when she gets back.”
I nod slowly. “Okay.” Then I turn back to Molly. “Thank you. For everything.”
She smiles, and to my surprise, pulls me into a tight hug, her grip so strong I swear I feel it in my chest. “I don’t blame you, Hayes. For any of it. She’s okay. She’s going to be okay.” She pulls back just enough to look me in the eyes. “We’re all fighting our own demons, coming to terms with our emotions and feelings at different times. We all have scattered, broken pasts that we’re trying to outrun. You really care for her, don’t you?”
My throat tightens. “Yeah, I do.”
