23. Sutton

23

SUTTON

“Do you think Cope is okay?” Luca asked as I set the book we were reading on the nightstand.

My tenderhearted boy. He might be a mini adrenaline junkie, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have a softer side. I loved the balance that continued to grow within him, and I wanted to nurture those empathetic pieces, even if it meant he had to live with worry. Because if there was one thing I could dream for my boy, it was for him to be kind. And kindness meant feeling things deeply.

I brushed those light-brown locks away from his face, exposing eyes that were almost identical to mine. “I think he’s hurting, but he’ll be okay.”

Luca’s lips pursed. “I wish I could make it better.”

“Me, too, baby. But I know you helped tonight.”

His brows rose. “I did?”

“Are you kidding me? A Mighty Ducks marathon with all the snacks in the world? What could be better than that?”

Luca let out a soft giggle. “It’s the best movie ever.”

I grinned at my kid. I’d memorized every word of the film over the past couple of years. It was a miracle we hadn’t worn out the DVD with as much playtime as it got.

I leaned down and brushed my lips across Luca’s temple. “So proud of you.”

Pink hit his cheeks. “Moooom.”

“I am. Nothing makes me prouder than seeing how you care for other people, how kind you are.”

“I get it from you,” Luca said softly. “You take care of everybody. Even the bees.”

My heart squeezed. “I love you, Luca. More than bees love honey.”

“More than bees love honey,” Luca echoed, his voice sleepy.

“Get some sleep. You need your rest to be a hockey superstar.”

“I do…”

His words trailed off, and I switched off the light as I stood, taking a moment to watch him sleep. I’d only been gone twelve hours, yet he somehow looked bigger. Sometimes, I blinked and could swear he’d grown.

An ache took root in my chest. I wanted to freeze each of these moments in my mind forever.

I finally forced myself to move. My slipper-clad feet padded silently across the floor as I stepped out into the hall, softly shutting the door behind me.

I couldn’t help taking a few steps past my door, toward the opposite end of the hallway—to Cope’s room. The door was shut, and I saw no light beneath it.

It made sense. It was already after nine. Luca had stayed up past his bedtime, thanks to all the sugar. And Cope had been through hell these past few days. He probably hadn’t gotten much sleep and needed to catch up. But still, disappointment flared.

I wasn’t sure what I’d have done if that light had been on. Walk down the hall and open the door? I didn’t know if I was ready for that. For a million different reasons.

But standing in that hallway, I could still feel Cope’s hand in mine. The feeling of his rough fingers holding mine tightly. The warmth that bled into me from his touch. It was a heat I hadn’t felt in far too long.

A sound moved through the air, light at first, almost like the whine of an animal in protest. I frowned, not quite sure where it was coming from. Then the noise grew louder, more pained.

It was coming from the direction I was currently staring in. My feet were moving before I could consider the wisdom of the action. A shout sounded behind Cope’s door, and I picked up to a jog.

I didn’t hesitate for a single moment, just closed my hand around the doorknob and jerked the door open, hurrying to close it behind me so Luca wouldn’t wake up. Cope’s bedroom was massive, a study in gray tones as the moonlight streamed in through the large windows, unhindered by any curtains.

There was no time to take in the beauty of the photographs on the walls or any other design choices. My focus was on the man thrashing around on the bed that looked larger than a king. The sheets and blankets were twisted around his waist, exposing his bare chest.

At any other time, I might’ve been distracted by all that muscled skin on display, but not now. Not when Cope’s beautiful face was contorted in pain. I recognized instantly that he was having a nightmare—a brutal one. But it was so intense I wasn’t sure what to do.

I remembered reading that waking a person from a night terror could be dangerous for them and you, especially if you woke them with a physical touch. But I couldn’t let him suffer either.

Moving to the side of the bed, I was close enough to speak in a whisper but outside of striking range. “Cope,” I said softly, remembering the article’s instructions to talk in calm, soothing tones.

Cope showed no signs of recognition or waking. His arm flailed to the side. “Dad!”

The shout had me jerking back, pain lancing my chest. It made sense that Teddy’s death had brought back memories of Cope losing his dad and brother. But knowing how deeply he was suffering hurt worse than anything I could remember in a long time.

“Cope, you’re safe. I’m right here.” I did my best to keep my tone calm but raised my volume slightly, praying I could break through .

Cope flung his arms out like he was reaching for someone, trying to break free.

“I’m not going anywhere. Come back, Cope. Come back to me.”

Cope’s body jerked, then his eyes started to flutter. “Sutton?” he croaked.

His voice sounded as if he’d been screaming for hours, but relief flooded me. I moved then to sit on the bed, my hand instantly going to his. I needed the point of contact, something to assure me he was okay.

“Just a nightmare,” I whispered. “You’re okay.”

Cope’s hand spasmed around mine. “How did you know?”

“I heard you cry out after I put Luca down. I, uh, just wanted to make sure you were okay. I’m sorry I barged in—I?—”

Cope gripped my hand harder. “Thank you.”

A new sort of relief swept through me. I hadn’t considered that I was invading Cope’s privacy until just now. The fact that he wasn’t bothered by it eased something in me I didn’t want to look at too closely.

I studied Cope for a long moment. His light-brown hair clung to his forehead in spots so I brushed it back with my free hand, something I had done countless times to Luca. But this felt nothing like that. “Do you want to talk about it?”

A guardedness swept across Cope’s dark-blue eyes. “Not especially.”

I tried not to let that hurt. I wasn’t especially good with secrets, not with everything I’d gone through with Roman. But I breathed through the sting, reminding myself I didn’t have the right to all Cope’s wounds, the things he buried deep. And it wasn’t as if I’d given him all of mine. Sometimes, every single thing about me felt like a half truth.

“What can I do?” I finally asked. That was the only question that really mattered, wasn’t it?

Cope stared at me for a long moment, his hand never releasing mine. “Stay.”