26. Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Six

T he ride to the hospital was agonizing.

Parker didn't push her to talk, but she almost wished he would, solely to avoid the awkward silence that descended between them.

"So, Eva," Parker said about fifteen minutes in.

"You try turning down a hottie like that." Pixie looked at the ceiling of the car, wishing she didn't feel like she was about to crawl out of her skin right now. "We didn't want to sneak around on Micah, but things just unfolded between us."

"Look, I'm relieved you let someone in. Coming from a reformed ‘carry the burden until I die' guy. If anyone's going to get it, I would."

Pixie swallowed hard, her eyes stinging. "It's not like I don't trust you guys."

"Sometimes digging up the past hurts too much," he said. She snuck a glance his way, but his focus remained on the road. "I spent a long time running. Only Meg and Tristan knew what was going on with me after my mom passed, and I wanted it that way."

Pixie remembered that. She and Parker were close, but she'd never been able to get him to open up fully.

Maybe because she refused to crack herself open in turn.

"I should've at least told Micah," Pixie said. "He's always seemed to know when I was off, but he respected my space and didn't push."

"He's intuitive as hell, but you are aware this is going to hurt him. He let you in, and he doesn't offer that gift to many."

Pixie's throat tightened. Parker was right. She and Micah had been closer back in college before he moved home, but ever since he left and returned, she'd waited for the shoe to drop again. For him to either leave her in the dust or move again.

Because that was what she'd gotten used to over and over.

"The situation with my mom…is complicated," Pixie said.

"My father pretty much wanted to die after my mom did," Parker responded bluntly. "Some days, I wondered if it would be easier if he did."

Those words made Pixie's mind quiet. They were ones she'd entertained herself. Ones she'd hated herself for, couldn't breathe into the air. That level of selfishness made her burn up inside with self-loathing, and she'd never been able to reconcile the truth. Even in therapy, she tended to cling to saccharine, textbook responses that frustrated her therapist to no end.

"The world is full of complicated situations, Pix," Parker said, his voice gentle. "You'd be surprised at who might understand. But shutting yourself off from everyone, not letting them in, is only going to hurt you in the long run. I'm here if you need me in whatever capacity. However, if you've been avoiding telling Micah because you think he'll judge you, you're shortchanging your best friend."

Her chest squeezed tight. Fuck, Parker was right.

It wasn't about Micah judging her though. She'd been judging herself. For not being stronger, for not being able to move on from her past.

But once she'd broken the seal with Eva, the idea of sharing her past with others wasn't the insurmountable wall she'd believed, and if there was anyone else she wanted to let in, it was Micah. If he could forgive her for falling for Eva.

"I have no idea what I'm walking into here," Pixie said, staring at the highway before them. Familiar signs flashed into view, meaning they closed in on their destination—except instead of her mother's house, she'd be visiting her in the hospital. The what-ifs buzzed so loud she might drown. What if the accident was fatal? What if her mother was incapacitated? The idea of having to care for her again after finally claiming more of a life for herself had her skin buzzing, her vision fuzzing over.

"We'll find out when we get there. And you tell me where you want me. In with you, hanging out in the background, whatever."

"Waiting room," Pixie said, her palms prickling with sweat. "If she's awake and aware in a manic state, having more people in the room won't be helpful. She gets paranoid."

"I'm guessing you had a pretty rough upbringing," Parker said as he followed the GPS, taking the exit for Novato Community Hospital.

"Let's just say there's a reason I struggle to let everyone in. "

However, she wanted Eva with her now. Not only that, but she also believed Eva would show up, which was brand new. The realization filtered in her veins like hot chocolate on a winter's night.

"It'll get easier with practice," he said.

They both trailed off into quiet as the white towers of Novato Community Hospital rose into view. Pixie's mouth dried. Whatever she walked into was something she'd have to handle. Which was what she'd been doing her whole life, whether it broke her or not.

Except this time, she wasn't alone.

She had a friend by her side. She had Eva as a safe place to fall apart.

That in and of itself made her want to weep.

The last thing she'd expected to feel upon reaching the hospital was relief, but after so many years of shouldering emergencies by her lonesome, having people in her corner—fuck, it was everything.

Parker pulled into a spot, and Pixie's fingers trembled. The doctors had sounded serious, but when hadn't they? This wasn't the first time she'd met her mother in an ICU or psych ward of a hospital. However, this was the first time in a while. When Pixie started college, her mother had turned a corner with her mental health, and the emergencies had become less and less over the years.

Her mind blanked as the worries melted away to reality. She would enter the hospital, assess the situation, and deal with whatever new curveball life threw at her.

"Let's go." Parker's voice stirred her out of the quiet contemplation, always the Dom with his commands.

Pixie grabbed her messenger bag, slipped the strap over her shoulder, and exited the car. With each step toward the pale hospital, her feet dragged heavier and heavier, but she continued forward.

Last night and this morning had been some of the best moments of her existence. The way Eva had watched the tides with her before taking her apart in such a memorable way, waking up with her to fresh hope she hadn't ever experienced.

She clutched to that glimmer with all her might.

Parker's quiet steadiness at her side settled some of her nerves. As the sliding glass doors opened, the chemical hospital scents assaulted her nostrils, and she was vaulted back to far too many experiences in a place like this.

"Pixie."

She blinked. Shit, she'd stopped moving. "Fuck, sorry. It's okay. I'm okay."

She forced a breath down her throat because she'd paused on that front as well. She was a little dizzy, but she could do this.

"No apologies," Parker said. "We don't need to rush there."

"I can make it to the third floor without my weak knees giving out on me," she replied, a little sass creeping into her tone.

Parker snorted. "Miss me with the weak knees nonsense. You forget I've seen you on them for years."

A sharp laugh exploded from her, so loud it drew a few stares from the people at the information desk. The hysteria bubbled through her too strong to give a fuck. She'd take this over trembling any day.

Somehow, she made it to the elevator, and Parker got in beside her, a steady presence. They zipped up to the third floor all too fast, the ding, ding, dings echoing through the chamber. Pixie sucked in a breath to try and bolster herself for whatever she'd face in the ICU.

When they stepped out of the elevator, Pixie bypassed the chairs in the waiting room and headed straight for the front desk.

"I'm visiting Maisie Monroe," Pixie said to the nurse.

"Let me get you a pass," she said. "Him as well?" Her gaze pivoted to Parker, who loomed beside her .

"Just me." Even though Parker taking her here had offered immense relief, she needed to do this next step by herself.

Parker placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'll let you know when Eva shows up."

The firm way he said it brooked no room for any other alternative—and the crazy thing was, she believed Eva would come too.

The nurse handed over the visitor pass, and Pixie gripped it tight, the firm edges biting into her palms, then walked to the room number she'd been given on the phone.

Her heartbeat thumped louder and louder as the numbers ticked down, and she slowed her steps as if she could stave off the inevitable.

The unknown lay waiting for her in the room, and in her experience, that was never gentle or kind.

When Pixie stopped in front of the room, she peeked inside.

Maisie sat upright in the bed, talking to the doctor. The air escaped Pixie's lungs. Relief swarmed through her, even though she didn't have a clue what the diagnosis was. This sight was far better than she'd anticipated.

Pixie rapped her knuckles at the edge of the door. "Hey."

Maisie looked up, and her gaze softened. The doctor strode toward her before she took another step inside.

"I'm Doctor Clarence. Are you family?" he asked. He looked to be about her age, though the rings under his eyes spoke to how long he'd probably been on shift today.

"I am," she said, trying to project a confidence she didn't feel. "Her daughter."

"It was the only way to escape them," Maisie said a little overly loud. "They wouldn't stop following me."

Pixie's skin prickled. The paranoia must've set in .

"Can we talk outside for a second?" he asked, grabbing his clipboard.

"Yeah, of course."

She followed the doctor out to the hallway, relieved they were discussing in private.

"She got a mild concussion from the car accident," the doctor said. "It got mistaken as more severe due to her mental state."

"She's got schizoaffective disorder, yes. Her mental health had been deteriorating for a spell, but I'm not sure for how long. She had a pretty good stretch before then."

"Based on the testing we got back, she's still taking her medication, so the current one might just not be as effective, which means—"

"A psych hold," Pixie finished.

The doctor blinked as if surprised, but she'd been the point of contact for a long time. "Yes. Once we finish some more tests, we'll be moving her there. Most likely in a few hours, so I'd suggest getting your visiting time in now."

"Thanks," Pixie said, her fingers trembling the slightest bit. Relief filtered through her veins in a slow, steady drip. Of all the worst-case scenarios her mind had spun through, this was downright tame. She'd been through psych holds before with Maisie, and coming out of a car crash with only a concussion was a blessing.

She walked back into the room. Maisie had a manic light in her eyes, a slight disconnect, but she seemed to recognize her, which was what mattered.

"Hey," she said. "How's your head feel?"

"Fuzzy," Maisie admitted. She chewed on her lower lip. "I'm scared."

The vulnerability in her voice struck Pixie right in the chest. She took her mother's hand. "It's going to be okay. I promise. "

For years, she'd told her mother this, comforted her when her mind got to be too much of a terrifying place. Even if she didn't believe it for a moment. Life would be simpler if she could hate her. Truth be told, if Maisie hadn't tried, if she'd continued to spiral, they might've gone down very different places. But Pixie saw how much Maisie fought the demons in her mind on a daily basis. The woman had not only carved out a home for herself but also had made friends and found a steady workplace. Everything they hadn't experienced when Pixie was growing up.

"Where is she, Pixie?" Maisie asked, peering past her. "The girl who loves you."

Pixie swallowed hard. What always fucked with her head was how much her mother actually saw despite her schizoaffective disorder.

She and Eva hadn't exchanged those three little words, but they'd been on the tip of her tongue. And deep in her heart, she understood she'd fallen for this woman harder than she'd thought possible.

"She's on her way," Pixie said. "She's coming for me."

And that simple truth would see her through this.