Chapter 31

My nerves couldn't handle hearing that Sloane was hurt. Back inside, my eyes sought out my baby girl. She was sitting on the concrete, clutching her ankle in agony. Her coach and the team doctor were at her side.

"Shit," Graham said from behind me.

Her ankle was visibly swollen. A sickening knot formed in the pit of my stomach as I knelt beside her.

"What happened?" I demanded, looking to the swim coach for answers.

"There was a dust-up between the teams after the match. The girl Sloane beat turned out to be psycho. She came up to your daughter and shoved her. Sloane fell awkwardly and I suspect the ankle is broken."

"Mom," Sloane said through gritted teeth. "Don't worry about me. Go find the girl that did this. Tell her that even with a busted ankle, I can still swim faster than her." She laughed, even though it clearly hurt to do so. "Talk about a sore loser."

"Don't worry about that other girl." I slipped into mom mode, wrapping my arms around her. "You just hang in there while we get you some help. Everything will be okay."

"I'm going to get some ice," the coach said.

Graham knelt on the other side of Sloane, his brow furrowed. "I'm going to pick you up," he said softly.

"We've called an ambulance," the doctor said.

"I'm not waiting for an ambulance," Graham said. "Brace the ankle and I'm taking her to the hospital now. She's in pain."

Even I was a little taken aback by his assertiveness. The doctor quickly put a splint to stabilize Sloane's foot.

"Okay, are you ready?" Graham asked.

"I think so," Sloane sobbed.

"Isadora, hold her leg while I lift," Graham instructed.

I nodded. "Okay."

"Sloane, wrap your arms around my neck and hold on," he said. "I've got you, kiddo."

With a strength that seemed almost effortless, he stood with Sloane cradled to his chest. She cried out once, and my heart squeezed at the sound of her distress. With my baby safely in her father's arms, I pushed everyone out of the way, clearing a path to the door.

"Isadora, my keys are in my right front pocket," Graham said. "Unlock the car please."

I reached into his pocket without hesitation and quickly pulled out the key fob. My fingers trembled as I fumbled with it. I opened the doors and waited for Graham to tell me what to do next. I was so glad he was here. I needed him at this moment.

"Go on the other side," Graham said. "Sloane, you're going to stretch out across the backseat. Your mom is going to very carefully hold your leg. Isadora, you're going to put her leg in your lap and hold it steady."

Sloane cried when her foot was jarred.

"I'm so sorry," I said and did my best to soothe her.

"Hold on to her leg," Graham instructed. He pulled the seatbelt around Sloane and buckled it.

Then he quickly hopped into the driver's seat and pulled out of the parking lot. I was grateful he was taking charge. I was able to devote my energy to Sloane, doing all I could to keep her calm.

The drive to the hospital felt like an eternity. I gripped Sloane's hand tightly, offering whatever comfort I could as Graham navigated the streets. My heart hammered in my chest as I called ahead to the emergency room, alerting them to our impending arrival.

"Hold on," Graham instructed.

He accelerated and took a sharp turn. I held Sloane's leg, doing my best not to hurt her any more than she already was. When we finally pulled up to the hospital, a nurse was waiting with a wheelchair.

Graham hopped out of the driver's seat and gently lifted Sloane into the wheelchair. I hated the sight of her pale face twisted in pain.

Graham and I followed behind the nurse as she wheeled Sloane through the double doors. Graham put a hand on my back, the simple act grounding me. Giving me comfort when it was our daughter that needed it.

I couldn't believe this was happening. Some little girl with a temper had seriously injured my daughter. I hoped the cops locked her up and threw away the key. But I pushed those thoughts aside, focusing instead on being there for Sloane.

Graham and I stood out of the way while the staff tended to Sloane, administering pain medication before whisking her away for an X-ray.

"She'll be okay," Graham told me while we waited.

"Who does that?" I hissed. "Who pushes someone because they beat you in a race?!"

"It's messed up," he said. "We can follow up and make sure the other girl is disciplined. She needs to be thrown off the team. She needs to be banned from all sports."

"She needs to be in handcuffs," I muttered.

Sloane was wheeled back into the room and helped back into bed. I immediately went to stand next to her while Graham stayed in the corner.

"The doctor will be in shortly," the nurse said, smiling.

"How are you feeling?" I asked Sloane.

"I'll wait in the waiting room," Graham said.

"Stay," Sloane said.

Graham looked at me, silently asking for my permission. I nodded. "Stay."

He moved to stand on her other side, providing balance our family had never had before. Sloane winced when she tried to adjust her position on the bed.

"If you're still in a lot of pain, the doctor can give you more medicine," I told her.

"Mom, what if I can't swim anymore?" she whispered, her voice laced with fear and uncertainty. My heart ached at the thought of her dreams being shattered.

I reached for her hand, and to my surprise, she didn't pull away. "You'll swim again, sweetheart," I reassured her. "If it's broken, you'll have to heal, but I'm sure you'll be fine."

"What happened?" Graham asked Sloane.

"One of the girls on the other team was talking smack," Sloane said. "I think she was kind of joking."

"Did she push you?" I asked. "The coach said she pushed you."

"She was playing—I think. I don't know. She didn't push me that hard. I slipped and tripped over a shoe on the ground, and I just fell. It was stupid. I don't know how it happened. She shouldn't get in trouble."

I smiled at her selflessness and compassion. It filled me with an overwhelming sense of pride. She was kind, resilient, and full of grace, a shining example of everything I had ever hoped she would become.

"You can talk to the coach," I told her. "Right now, you just worry about you."

Graham stood quietly, looking exactly like a worried father should. He might have only just become a dad a few days ago, but he was already handling it like a champ.

"Alright, young lady," the doctor said as he came in. "You have a broken ankle, but the good news is the ankle won't require surgery."

"When can I swim?" Sloane asked.

The doctor chuckled. "You're going to be in a cast for at least four weeks. We'll reevaluate after that. But it should heal cleanly."

Sloane started crying again. Graham and I both tried to console her. I exchanged a grateful glance with him. Things weren't great between us, but this was a test and I felt like we passed. We could put aside the drama and focus on her.

It wasn't long before the doctor was back, setting her ankle and fitting her with a boot until she could get the cast. Graham rubbed my back and held my hand as I held Sloane's.

After the boot was on, they let us go. Graham gently lifted Sloane into the backseat like he was cradling a baby. My heart skipped a beat. That was an experience he would never get with Sloane. Guilt slammed into me once again. He would have been an amazing daddy.

Graham's driving was a little more cautious as he took us to our building.

"Would you help me get her upstairs?" I asked him.

He nodded. "Sure thing. I don't think the crutches are a good idea right now. Not until she has a cast on."

"I agree," I said.

The doorman looked at Sloane in Graham's arms in horror. "What happened?"

"She broke her ankle," I explained.

"I'm so sorry," he said. "Let me know if you need me to send anything up."

"Thank you," I said.

Graham held her like she weighed nothing. I led him inside the apartment.

"Do you want the couch?" I asked Sloane.

"I think I want my bed," Sloane answered. "I'm really tired."

"All those good drugs kicking in," Graham teased.

I showed him the way to Sloane's room and tossed the clothes off her bed. The rest of the mess could wait. Graham laid her down ever so gently once again. I tucked her into bed, smoothing her hair back from her forehead as she drifted off to sleep, her breathing slow and steady.

I watched her for a few seconds, so happy she wasn't seriously hurt. Graham walked out of her room. I kissed her forehead and walked out too, closing the door behind me.

He stood in the living room, looking at the collage of baby pictures of Sloane. I cringed, realizing he was looking at what he missed out on.

"Is she settled in?" he asked.

"Yes. I hope she can sleep for a while."

"I've never been so scared," he said. "I know it was just a broken ankle, but holy shit. How did you do this all those years?"

I smiled. "It's scary every time. When Sloane was three, she was running and tripped." I clapped my palms together. "Boom. She slammed her little head into the edge of the coffee table. I ran her into the emergency room, screaming like a lunatic. She had a tiny cut on her head and a bump."

I realized my little story only served to remind him of everything he missed out on. "I'm sorry," I said.

"No. It's fine. I get it. I get why you wanted to protect her. I barely know her, and I was ready to carry her the whole way to the hospital."

"Thank you for taking such good care of her." I smiled. "You were calm under pressure. You handled it like a pro."

"I can't imagine what it must be like for you after raising her alone all these years."

I winced again. "I'm sorry, Graham."

"I know." He nodded. "I should go."

"Graham, I know we still have a lot to work out and I hope we can, but?—"

"I'm not interested in hashing everything out right now," he said. "My concern is Sloane. I'll be at the doctor's office tomorrow, unless you don't want me there."

"I do want you there, but more importantly, Sloane wants you there."

"Then I'll be there," he said.

I walked him to the door. "Thank you again, Graham."

He paused before stepping out. "You don't know me, not really, but I need to tell you, I will do anything for my daughter. I would have back then, too."

He walked out, leaving me with my guilt once again. I stood in the doorway, watching Graham leave, his words echoing in my mind. The weight of guilt and what-ifs hung heavy in the air. I had spent so many years convincing myself that I was enough for Sloane, that she didn't need her father in her life. But seeing Graham hold her, caring for her with such tenderness, it stirred something deep within me.

I went back to Sloane's room to check on her. She seemed so small and fragile under the layers of blankets, her face peaceful in sleep. I sat on the edge of her bed, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. I had kept Graham away all these years, convinced that it wouldn't matter. But watching him tonight, seeing the concern on his face as he cradled her body in his arms, I couldn't deny the connection between them.

Sloane shifted in her sleep, a soft moan escaping her lips. She was going to have Graham in her life. I knew he was a good man, and he was going to be an even better father.

I just had no idea if I would have Graham in my life too.