Bound Together (Torn and Bound Duet 2)

“You’re sorry?” I scoff. “She spent years putting me down, locking me in a metaphorical cage to keep me under her thumb. I was so desperate to make her love me, I starved myself, trying to be perfect for her, but no matter what I did, I was never good enough. And the entire time you watched, you saw what she was doing. When I asked to go to Michigan, you knew it was so I could start over, get away from her. You said you supported me, but the second I did something you didn’t approve of, you allowed her to cut me off. You told me it was tough love.”

“I know. And I can’t take back what I said, or the choices I made, but I’m hoping one day you’ll forgive me and give me a chance to make things right.”

“I have three boyfriends,” I point out.

“I know.” He nods. “And it’s obvious they all love you deeply and take care of you. The way your mother and I should’ve loved and taken care of you.”

“We take care of each other.” I look at Drew, loving him that much more for reaching out to my dad. For trying to fix the broken so I would be happy. “I appreciate you coming here,” I tell him. “It means a lot to me that you would drop what you were doing and get on a plane to come here, but I don’t think I can forgive you. Too much has happened. I love you and you’re my dad, but…”

“I understand,” he says, his face contorted as if he’s in physical pain. “I know it won’t happen overnight, but maybe over time…”

“Maybe,” I agree noncommittedly. “Right now I just need to focus on Drew and Ashton and Brayden.” They come first. They’ll always come first.

“If you need me, I’m only a phone call away,” Dad says, stepping forward. I allow him to hug me for several heartbeats before I move out of his hold.

“Thank you.”

Just after Dad leaves, Ashton enters, sans Brayden. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know. I was hoping he came back here.” He glances around the room. “Did your dad leave?”

“Yeah.”

He gives me a questioning look, but I shake my head, not wanting to get into all that now. “I’ll go look for Brayden. Stay with Drew.” I need a moment to catch my breath.

The hospital isn’t big, but he could be anywhere. I check the outside waiting area, the cafeteria… I briefly wonder if maybe he left.

I’m pulling out my phone to call him, when I notice the hospital chapel. I step inside and find him sitting in the front pew, his head down and his shoulders shaking.

I sit next to him and take his hand in mine. When he looks up at me, his eyes are red-rimmed and his face is slightly puffy from crying.

“Ben was brought here,” he mutters. “Died here. In the pediatric wing.”

My heart fissures, and I pull him into my arms. “I’m so sorry, Bray.” I hold him as tight as I can, wishing my love could physically transfer from me to him.

“We fought,” he says after a minute.

“You and your brother?” I ask, confused.

“No, me and Drew. He said he was leaving to protect us and I went off on him.”

Oh no. His quietness, the look of guilt, all makes sense now. “You didn’t cause his heart attack,” I say carefully, knowing full well he isn’t going to accept my words.

“I cursed at him, got in his face,” he says, his voice resigned. “I was so upset…”

“You didn’t know about his heart, and even if you did, people argue all the time.”

“You heard your dad. Stress to the heart—”

“Stop it,” I demand. “You aren’t the reason your brother died, and you aren’t the reason Drew is in the hospital. You need to stop blaming yourself for everything.”

Brayden is quiet for a long time, while I hold him, wishing there were a way to lift some of the weight he’s carrying off his shoulders. He refuses to speak to his parents about his brother. He believes he’s the reason Drew had a stroke. If Drew doesn’t wake up, I don’t think Brayden will survive it. He’s already barely hanging on. One more pound and I’m afraid it’ll be too much for him to handle.

“I’m going to go check on him,” he says, his voice barely a whisper.

“Okay, I’ll go with you.”

We walk, hand in hand, down the hall back toward Drew’s room. Just before we get there, I see his parents coming down the hall. “Go ahead,” I tell him. “I’ll be inside in a moment.”

He nods, not noticing his parents, and goes inside.

As I walk toward them, contemplating if I’m making the right decision, his mom smiles sweetly at me, and I know what I need to do. In the short time I’ve known her, she’s done nothing but be loving and accepting. If she knew what Brayden’s been telling himself for years, she would set him straight. She would never let him believe he killed his brother.