35. Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Five

Roman

I peek over Holden’s shoulder as he whispers in my ear, his hand rubbing up and down my back. “It’s okay, Ro. We can drain the fluid. I wanted to get Beck’s opinion, that’s all.” I nod, but the anxiety churning in my stomach is making me a little nauseous. “It’s a symptom of the liver failure. I’m sorry I scared you.”

I can’t force words, so I nod again, watching as Beck checks Dad over. He pushes his stomach and then does some strange thing where he smacks the side of it. I watch in horror as his stomach ripples like a damn waterbed. Holden releases me, but slips his hand into mine, and turns to look back toward my dad.

Beck frowns and steps back, turning to face us. His eyes drop to our combined hands, and I watch as he swallows hard, his throat bobbing. He forces his gaze back up and nods at Holden. “You’re right. He needs to go to the hospital. There’s definitely free fluid in his abdomen, but without an ultrasound…” His voice trails off, and he shrugs.

Holden turns to me with a grimace. “Do you think we can get him in the car, or should we just call an ambulance and meet them at the hospital?”

“If my opinion counts for anything,” Beck interjects. “I think an ambulance is our best bet. It’s going to be hard for him to walk.”

Holden nods, but keeps his eyes on me. “You okay, Ro?” he asks quietly, presumably so only I can hear him.

I think I am, but there’s also fear bubbling up inside me. I don’t even care about this man. Why am I having this reaction? I nod, pushing the feelings down—those are problems for future Roman and Alexis to work through. Right now, I need to focus on Dad.

Holden steps back, dropping my hand. “I’m gonna call for an ambulance. I’ll be right back.”

I stand in the doorway, staring at Dad. He looks so bad. So sick. Even worse than a couple nights ago when I saw him. Beck’s voice startles me, and I turn to look at him. “Hey, Roman. I think you and Holden have this covered. I’m going to head home.”

Panic spikes in my stomach, the nausea coming back and hitting me full force. He wants to leave? Why does he want to leave? He watches me for a second. I want to tell him no—I even open my mouth—but nothing comes out. My body feels like it’s shutting down. Even breathing is becoming hard, manual instead of automatic.

Beck starts walking, and when he brushes past me into the hallway, my brain clears just enough to give the signal to my hand to reach out. My fingers close around his wrist, and he stops instantly. “Please,” I whisper, unable to force any more words out.

He doesn’t respond right away, but when he turns, heartbreak is written all over his face. “Please what?”

“Please don’t leave,” I choke out, trying to get my breathing under control. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a panic attack, but I can feel it coming.

He pulls his wrist free of my hold, and my stomach drops out. Before I can process the clear rejection, though, I’m in his arms. “I’ll stay,” he whispers. “As long as you want me to.”

The relief makes me weak. My body melts against his, and I try to regulate my breathing by inhaling his familiar, comforting scent. Tears burn the backs of my eyes, but I fight them back. I don’t want Beck to see me break down. We’re just now getting back on even footing. I don’t want him to think badly of me or think that I’m not worth the fight, that I’m still the same kid he saved all those years ago. I don’t want our relationship to be rooted in my need for him, especially not since I just got him back.

He hums, his hand sliding up my back to grip the nape of my neck. He pulls back from me and places a soft peck against my forehead, then tilts his head down. Our lips meet just as Holden interrupts with, “The ambulance is on the way.”

Goddamn, his timing is shit today.

Maybe one of us should have ridden in the ambulance with Dad, but I couldn’t force myself to. Beck drove me in my car, and Holden followed behind us in his. Beck’s been quiet since we got here, and it’s making me anxious. I don’t know what I did wrong, but I can’t shake the feeling that he doesn’t actually want to be here.

When someone walks into the waiting room and calls my name, a spike of anxiety hits. I stand, my hand still tucked into Beck’s. Holden and Beck stand too, and we follow the guy to a small conference room. Once we’re all seated around the table, he starts talking.

“Nice to meet you, Roman. I’m Dr. Williams. So, as you know, we had to drain fluid off Richard’s abdomen. This is a common side effect of liver failure, unfortunately. We drained almost six liters of fluid, but we weren’t able to get it all because his blood pressure kept bottoming out. I’d like to keep him for at least forty-eight hours for observation and see if we can drain more tomorrow.”

“Is it going to help?” I ask.

“The fluid will most likely keep coming back, but we can drain it so he can breathe and move more easily in the meantime.”

I turn to Holden, who’s watching me with an unreadable expression on his face. “Is that bad?”

He nods, his eyes softening. “Yeah, Ro. It’s pretty bad. It’s a sign that things are getting worse quickly.”

I nod, feeling numb, and turn my gaze back to the table.

“Do you have any questions for me?” Dr. Williams asks.

I shake my head, and Beck gives my hand a gentle squeeze.

“Okay, that’s fine. If you think of anything, call me. I’ll leave you with my number, but Beck should have it as well.”

I peek at Beck out of the corner of my eye. He’s already looking at me, his brow furrowed with concern.

When the doctor walks out of the room, I stand, ready to get the fuck out of here. “Hold, can we go home?”

“Of course.”

Beck leans past me to look at Holden. “Do you want me to drive him home? And then you can run me back home?”

His offer hits me like a physical punch. A punch has actually hurt me less. Why does he keep trying to run away from me? What did I do wrong? I turn to Holden. “Can you give us a second?”

He nods and steps into the hallway.

When I look at Beck, his jaw is tight, his expression unreadable. “Why do you keep trying to leave me?”

“I’m not. You don’t need me here, though. You have Holden. He can handle it.” He sounds bitter, and it makes me shrink in on myself a little. I knew it was a good idea to not let him see. He’s already irritated with how needy I am.

I pull my hand from his, letting it fall to my side. I don’t have it in me to do this right now. I want him, and I won’t give up on him. But I really just… can’t. “Okay, if you don’t want to stay, I can’t make you.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “What are you talking about? Who said I didn’t want to stay?”

“You did!” I shout before I can stop myself. I force myself to calm down and lower my voice before continuing. “You’ve tried to leave twice now. If you don’t want to be here with me, I can’t make you. So… go, I guess. I don’t have it in me to fight with you about it right now.”

He closes his eyes like he’s in pain, and when he opens them again, there’s a rare vulnerability swimming in the blue depths. He steps closer, grabbing both my hands in his, and presses his forehead to mine. “I don’t want to go, Roman. But you have Holden. You don’t need me here.”

In an instant, everything clicks into place. He’s not bitter—he’s jealous. Or maybe even hurt. I let Holden comfort me in the bedroom, and he said he’d go home. I asked Holden if we could go home, and he was ready to leave again. “I’m used to relying on Holden. I’m not used to having anyone else. It’s not a slight to you. It’s… I don’t want to give you all the bad and none of the good. We already did that once and look how it turned out.”

”I want you to rely on me,“ he says, voice trembling.

“I can’t let it be like it was before. It’s nothing against you, I promise. I don’t want you to see only the bad this time. I want to be better.”

He scoffs. “Roman, your dad is in the hospital with end-stage liver failure. I’m surprised you’re handling it as well as you are. Please lean on me. I want you to.”

I nod, my forehead brushing his. “Okay, I’ll try.”

He lets out a relieved breath, then drops his lips to mine quickly. “Thank you. I’m sorry for how I acted. I just… I’m struggling. It’s hard to not be the person you go to.”

His softly spoken words confirm my suspicions. I won’t give up Holden, though. I’ve spent ten years taking care of him. Hell, we’ve spent ten years taking care of each other. “I won’t give up Holden.” The words are whisper soft, shaky. I’m nervous. This could be the end. This could be the deal-breaker.

He drops my hands to wrap his arms around me. “I would never ask you to. I’m sorry. I’m working on it, I promise.”

After Beck brought me home from the hospital, he stayed with me for a while, but then I drove him home. He was getting tired, and I knew he had to work tomorrow. But now, lying in bed alone, I’m regretting that decision. I could probably go wake up Holden and ask him to come sleep with me, but he has to work tomorrow too, and God knows he’s a miserable bastard without enough sleep.

I roll to my side, trying to get comfortable, but nothing’s working. My mind keeps spinning, thinking about Dad, about Beck, about how fucked up my life is. With a sigh, I sit up, reaching over to grab my laptop. After firing it up, I check my emails. Last week, I spent four hours scheduling posts for our socials for the center, but I haven’t checked my emails in a couple of days.

There’s really nothing of consequence, which is no surprise since I’m not doing the majority of the day-to-day stuff anymore. I wonder if I could start something like this here. I have no idea what it would even take to start a non-profit. I guess I could always look into it, though. Just not tonight. I close the laptop and return it to its spot on my nightstand.

I lie back down, tossing and turning. Beck’s words echo in my mind. “ Lean on me, I want you to.” With a resigned sigh, I reach for my phone, silently cursing the fact that I’m about to bother Beck at 2 a.m. when I know he has to be up for work soon. Ugh. I press the button to FaceTime him. It rings and rings, and just when I’m about to give up, he finally picks up.

“Beautiful?” he asks, his voice rough with sleep.

My stomach does a violent flip, my heart jumping into my throat. Fuck, he called me beautiful again.

“Roman? Everything okay?” he tries again, the sleep clearing from his voice some.

“I can’t sleep,” I admit, feeling infinitely stupid that I called him and woke him up for this.

“Mmm,” he hums. “W’as wrong?” He moves a little, and then his face is bathed in soft light, his eyes half-closed. My eyes widen in shock at the sight of him. Not because of his appearance, which is stunning, even sleep-mussed. But because he’s got my rabbit tucked against his chest.

“You still have the rabbit,” I blurt out before I can stop myself.

His eyes pop open, pink flooding his cheeks. “Oh. I… well, it’s… yes.” He stops talking abruptly, then he sighs in what sounds like resignation. “I still have the rabbit,” he murmurs, his embarrassment clear. He groans, rolling to his back, and stares up at the ceiling.

I can’t help but smile. He kept my rabbit. After all this time. And more than that, he’s sleeping with it. Oh my God, my heart may actually explode from my chest. “It helps me sleep,” he says, grimacing. “I’m sorry.”

I have no idea what to say to that. My mind is reeling with things like fuck, I love you . And I’m so glad you kept it . And can you please hold me to sleep instead?

“Are you mad?” he asks, still staring up at the ceiling.

“Why would I be mad?” I ask, genuinely confused. I’m sad. I’m a little in awe. I’m definitely falling more in love by the second. But I’m not mad.

“I don’t know. It’s kind of stupid, right? Sleeping with a damn stuffed rabbit. It… it makes me feel close to you, though,” he whispers, face flaming redder.

“Like I don’t have a tattoo over my heart for the same reason.”

Finally, he turns his gaze to me, a small smile on his lips. “We’re kind of messes, huh?”

A soft laugh bubbles up in my chest. “Yeah, I guess we are.”

“Well, now that I’ve thoroughly embarrassed myself for the night, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I couldn’t sleep. I’m sorry I woke you up.” I feel even more stupid about it now than I did before.

“It’s okay. I’m glad you did,” he says, giving me a soft smile.

Guilt tugs at my heart as I take in the sleepiness in his eyes. “I don’t want to keep you up when you have to work, though. I should have just dealt with it on my own.”

“I don’t want you to deal with things on your own. I already told you that. Besides, I’m used to not getting a lot of sleep.”

He looks so cozy and warm. Comfortable. Safe . My chest aches with how much I want to be there with him, wrapped in his arms. “Can I come over?”

He blinks at me in confusion. “Now?”

“No, sorry. That’s stupid. Ignore me.”

“It’s not stupid. It’s late, so it surprised me. That’s all. Yes, you can come over.”

That’s a stupid idea. I shouldn’t have even said anything. I shouldn’t have even called him. But my body moves independently of those thoughts because before I know it, I’m dressed with shoes on, walking toward the front door. “Hey, beautiful?” Beck asks, startling me. Hell, I almost forgot we were still on the phone. “Do you think you should tell Holden you’re leaving?”

I glance down at my phone, quickly pulling up my text thread with Holden.

Me

Couldn’t sleep. Going to Beck’s. See you tomorrow.

“I texted him,” I say, grabbing my keys and heading out the front door.

“I’m going to let you go, okay? I want you to be able to focus on the road. Come on in when you get here. I’ll unlock the door for you.”

“Okay, I’ll see you soon.”

By the time I pull into Beck’s driveway, exhaustion is weighing me down. The events of the day have finally caught up with me, and I’m so glad I called him. When I step into the living room, I lock the door behind me, then tiptoe further into the house, trying to stay quiet in case he fell back asleep. When I push the bedroom door open, he’s sitting against his headboard, scrolling on his phone with sleepy eyes that light up the moment he sees me.

I step fully into the room, feeling awkward and unsure. He watches me for a second, then pats the spot next to him— my spot. I kick my shoes off and strip down to just my boxers before climbing into bed beside him. He sets his phone down on the nightstand, right next to the stuffed rabbit, and lies down, turning to face me. “Thank you for calling me when you needed me. It’s a little hard for me to think that you might not come to me when you need something, no matter what it is. Even if it’s just to talk. I think there’s probably some trauma there, especially when I think about how much you must have needed me before—when you didn’t come home.”

I nod, my eyes widening. I guess I didn’t really look at it like that before. I didn’t want to throw more of my shit at him. I didn’t consider that keeping myself hidden away from him might actually hurt him.

“I know you have Holden,” he continues softly. “I’m thankful for that, even if it makes me a little sick sometimes. Like I said, I’m working on it. But I want you to have me too.”

“Okay, I’ll try my best.” He sighs in relief, opening his arms to me. Rolling toward him, I rest my head on his chest, the steady beat of his heart soothing me instantly.

His lips brush against my hair, and I feel him inhale deeply. “Fuck, so much better than a rabbit,” he murmurs.

I chuckle, still a little in awe that he’s kept that rabbit for so long. I settle deeper into his embrace, feeling his warmth seeping into my skin. My eyes are so heavy that I can’t keep them open anymore, so I don’t even try. Beck’s hand resting against the bare skin of my back, his heartbeat under my ear, and the steady rise and fall of his chest lull me into a deep sleep. The kind of sleep I don’t think I’ve had for a single night since I left.