Bound Together (Torn and Bound Duet 2)

“Thanks, Doc. Will do.”

With a smile and a nod, he excuses himself, leaving the four of us alone. I’m not sure what the hell to say, but I can’t stand the silence, so I speak up.

“Did I miss anything important while I was out?”

Ashton snorts. Brayden growls. Mia giggles.

“I called my dad,” Mia says. “I was hoping he could fix you.” She frowns and I move my hand out of Brayden’s to cup her cheek.

“I know how hard that must’ve been for you.”

“He showed up. Told me he’s divorcing my mom.” She shrugs. “Apologized.” Her eyes meet mine. “Told me you called him.”

Fuck, I should’ve told her. I did it out of anger one night after she cried herself to sleep, not understanding why she’s not enough.

“Thank you,” she says, smiling. “I’ve never had anyone stand up for me until you three.”

“Are you guys okay now?” As much as I despise the man for choosing his bitchy wife over his daughter, I know Mia would love to have a relationship with him.

“No, but I think maybe one day we will be.”

I lean over and kiss her forehead. “I’m glad.”

“Mom and Dad know about Ben,” Brayden says, shocking the hell out of me.

“They know… everything?”

“Yeah, they said he was sick for years. Refused to let me take the blame.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. “You were a damn good brother and he died knowing that.”

Brayden nods in agreement.

“My dad kicked Travis’s conniving, psycho ass back to Ohio,” Ashton remarks. “Sasha the sorority bitch is the one who videoed us the night of the Halloween party, then she gave it to Travis, who shared it with the entire campus.”

Ashton clears his throat. “I knew about the video, but I thought I could handle it. I’m sorry.” He drops his gaze, and I squeeze his hand.

“The entire situation sucks,” I tell him. “Don’t blame yourself for that shit. What’s done is done.”

“I’ve brought breakfast,” the nurse announces, walking in with a tray of food. She sets it down. “I’ll be back later to run some tests the doctor ordered. Until then, eat and rest.” She winks at the four of us, and I laugh that she knows about us and seems okay with it.

The rest of the day is spent with us talking about nothing of consequence. I know it’s because none of them want to address the elephant in the room—me leaving—or risk stressing me out. Occasionally I’m wheeled out for tests, and when I return, they’re still there waiting for me.

Molly and Tim stop by to check on me, and so do Curtis and Wendy. When nighttime rolls around, I insist the three of them go home and sleep in an actual bed, but they refuse, Ashton and Mia taking the couch and Brayden crashing on the pull-out reclining chair.

Maybe it’s because I’ve technically been sleeping for days, but hours after they fall asleep, I’m still awake, wondering how the hell I’m going to leave them.“Home sweet home,” Ashton says as we walk into the apartment. The doctor came by this morning, and after giving me my new prescription, discharged me. Since the three of them all came in Ashton’s car, we piled into it to go home.

Fuck, home. I need to make a new flight reservation. When I asked the doctor if it was okay to fly, and he said yes, I could feel all three of their glares on me, but I ignored them, thanking him.

The first thing I notice when we get inside is the Christmas tree we decorated. Then I remember tomorrow is Christmas Eve. Our first Christmas. Mia walks over and turns it on and it comes to life. Beautiful multicolored lights with big colorful ornaments. She was never allowed to decorate her own tree growing up, so she insisted we pick everything out. My eyes land on the snow angel ornament. The one Brayden picked out in memory of Ben. The snowman, to symbolize our weekend away at the snow resort. The book for Mia. The hockey puck for Bray and me. The M&M for Ashton. Every ornament means something. My heart clenches in my chest. We’ve only been together for a short period of time, but we’ve already created so many memories. Can I do this? Leave all of the memories—and the people I’ve created them with—behind?

It’s to protect them, I remind myself.

I step into my room, with the three of them on my heels, and see my duffle bag on the bed. I pick it up and set it on the dresser, knowing we’re going to have to have this conversation sooner rather than later.

“I’m leaving,” I tell them, turning around and leaning against the dresser.

“Cool,” Ashton says. “Where are we going?”

“What?” I splutter in confusion. “No. I’m leaving.” My gaze bounces between the three of them. “My stroke and heart attack don’t change what happened. A video circulated around campus of the four of us dancing… of Brayden kissing me.”