Staying on Course (Finding our Way 2)

“Drink this.” Quinn shoves a bottle of water at me. “You scared the shit out of me.”

I take it and swallow in little sips, my stomach protesting.

“Do you remember anything after the call with your dad?”

I shake my head.

“You blacked out when I was on the phone with Crystal. Morgan was visiting, and they heard your scream. He was coming over to check your tires and looking at snow chains. I had you in my arms when they arrived. He insisted on driving us to Norfolk.”

“How long did I black out?” I ask, completely confused.

Both women look at me with horrified expressions, and I meet Morgan’s eyes in the rearview mirror, flaring with worry.

“What?”

“Dev, you woke up, took a shower, and packed a bag. For the five minutes I left you alone, you also packed another bag for Bryce. Then you made coffee, sent a few emails, and called Bryce’s parents.”

“Oh no!” I cover my face. “Sheila and Dave have to be worried sick.”

Everyone’s face in the car swings to me, and I slink back.

“You don’t remember?” Quinn says quietly.

“No,” I admit.

She nods in understanding. “You told them Bryce was a fighter and he’s going to be okay.”

“He is,” I say absolutely, and Quinn’s face falls.

“You also said he wasn’t going to leave you a widow at the age of twenty. Then you hung up, walked to the truck, and went back to sleep for the last two hours.”

Suddenly, the car gets hot, and I can’t breathe. I start to hyperventilate, trying to remember the sound of Sheila’s voice or the conversation. Nothing comes to my mind. I lean over and put my head between my legs while Quinn climbs beside me, rubbing my back with soothing circles.

“This can’t be happening,” I chant over and over. “He has to be okay.”

“Shhh…” Crystal climbs over the console and comes to me.

We don’t talk as we drive, and I’m confused when Morgan pulls off at a rest stop. He says nothing as he parks and gets out, not minding the snow. Crystal leans me back, gives Quinn a look, and they slowly move away.

Morgan opens the door and extends one arm to me, not saying anything. I go to him, and in a second, I’m in his arms, stumbling to a covered area. Once we get there, he wraps me in a hug, his big body covering mine.

“Let it out,” he says softly.

I start to cry, really cry. Sobs wrack my body, and I cling to him as hard as I can. “He has to be okay,” I say. “He’s the strong one. He would know what to do. I don’t know what to do…”

“Yeah, you do. His family, your family, Bryce—they’re all going to need you to be strong. Brace for the worst and hope for the best. He’s hurt, and from what I hear, it’s serious. He needs you to be strong.”

“That’s not how we work!” I yell and hit Morgan’s chest. “He’s strong. I’m quirky, joking, fun. He’s the fighter, I’m the lover!”

He lifts my chin gently until I’m forced to look at him. I’m instantly calmed by the deep brown sympathy in his eyes.

“You love him?”

“More than anything.”

“Then find the strength and help him. Let it out here with me. Beat me, scream, question everything in the universe, but when we get to those hospital doors, you are solid. You understand?”

His words put everything into perspective. Bryce needs a strong woman, and that’s me.