Telling Rett what I remembered about what Sadie had said during it to explain why Hurst had said what he did, I sent her another text with the question Rett had asked that I had no way of knowing the answer to.
Me: Remy’s brother wants to know if you think the Commonwealth should still be a thing—his words exactly. He didn’t know there were so many countries in it and says he’s intrigued now, so he might have a lot of questions for you.
Hart chose that moment to come back from the bathroom, his face scrunched up as he sat down gingerly beside me.
“I thought we were friends,” he hissed at Rett, who looked at him in amusement. “Why’d you let me have it when you know the toilet paper here feels like sandpaper?”
“Listen, little dude, you’re the one who insisted we go by the family owned taco place instead of Taco Bell. I warned you that burrito would be extra hot like they said it was.”
Rubbing his stomach, Hart groaned. “I don’t know if it was that. Maybe the chicken was off?”
“Or maybe it’s the extra cheese on top of extra cheese and the super hot salsa you insisted you could handle?” Rett fired back.
Tuning out their bickering—something that reminded me of the dynamics between Hart and Croix—I checked my phone when it vibrated.
Sadie: Countries should only be part of it if they still want to be, if you ask me. And there should be *a lot* of apologies given to them, too. History doesn’t mean we get to forget about our pasts or try and ignore them.
I showed it to Rett and smirked when he sighed. “Brains and beauty, I like her. I don’t get how Elijah managed to catch that one.”
Figuring Sadie was again the best person to answer this, I sent her another text.
Her response was almost instant.
Sadie: I felt sorry for him. Still do. His penis is the size of a blade of grass. Ask my eye, it’ll back me up.
Before I could lock my phone and just tell Rett verbally instead of showing him the message, he plucked the phone out of my hand and read what she’d sent. He tapped out a text with his eyebrows raised and looked at me expectantly.
“I’m not explaining about the last part. If she wants to tell you, that’s up to Sadie.”
A wicked grin grew on his mouth. “I’m just happy I have something to taunt Elijah with. I mean, his wife says his dick’s the size of a blade of grass.”
“Whoa,” Hart said loudly, sitting forward and forgetting about his stomach. “That’s, like, really skinny, too. Is that Marcus’s brother?”
When we nodded, Hart mimicked Rett’s grin. “My dick’s bigger than his. If I get a babe like Sadie, she won’t be able to say that about me.”
I shuddered and gagged just as Rett threw his head back and burst out laughing.
It hadn’t felt like I’d ever be able to smile again when I’d found out about Croix, and although my heart constantly felt heavy just now, I’d be lying if I said Rett hadn’t made the last four days bearable for me—and likely for Hart, too. For that alone, I owed him a vital organ if he ever needed one.
Turning my head so I could see Remy, I smiled happily when I saw him watching me, his eyes soft like he knew what I was thinking. There was no way he could, but whatever he saw on my face made him even happier, and that was obvious.
Saying goodbye to Rett had been harder than I’d thought. I’d been in to see Croix this morning after he’d left, needing to see my brother to make sure he was as okay as possible after losing Rett’s naturally funny personality.
After that, we’d all gone out for lunch, and now we were back in the waiting room, and I couldn’t get my mind off of what Dad had asked at dinner last night.
None of us had any experience with prosthetics or the loss of a limb, so how could we make it easier on Croix when he woke up by knowing what’d help him?
Yes, the internet was a fountain of information. We’d found so many different types of prosthetic legs on there, and there were a million other things that claimed to help the person with the prosthesis. There was also page after page of advice on how to help the person mentally and physically, but it all seemed a bit sterile if that made sense?
I needed someone with firsthand knowledge of it, someone I could ask questions to and get an idea of what would go through Croix’s mind. The problem was, I didn’t want to join a chatroom or group about it and sound like a bitch or offend someone. I was also unsure what was polite to ask and what wasn’t.