by Haley Jenner
Moving to his side, Janie pulls him into her body, letting him cry.
“What happened, Luca?” The question comes from Toby, his easy disposition nowhere to be seen, worry creasing his face in the way it does the rest of us. Willow cuddles closer into his body, frowning at the blood dried into the cotton of my shirt, into the denim of my jeans.
I tell them what happened, every last fucking second, trying to find sense of what went wrong. But failing miserably. Truth is, there’s no rhyme, no reason. Just a horribly timed sequence of events, or the more I think about it, maybe Archer was right. A horrible sequence of events, sure, but thank fuck that timing wasn’t off.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Frankie
Toby having walked out of the hospital only moments before, returns, a dark sweatshirt clasped in his hand.
“That shirt’s giving me the fucking willies.” He gestures to the soaked-in pools of blood decorating Luca’s shirt. “Put this on.”
Luca takes the sweatshirt, lifting his chin in thanks as he stands, discarding the shirt that’ll give us all nightmares for the rest of our lives.
The mood is somber, the only noise the quiet tone of the hospital phones when they ring, the muted sound of the nurses speaking. Everything else is eerily quiet.
Archer stands away from us all, body leaning against a wall, lost to himself. He paces at times, nail caught between his teeth, gnawing away his idle energy. He’s moved toward the nurse’s station no less than five times in the last fifteen minutes, second-guessing every time, hands bracing the back of his skull, elbows closing around his face on a pained growl.
Caught in the nightmare of his own reality, he’s never prayed so hard to wake. A vow to protect her, to love her manifesting itself in the worst of his failings.
We all feel the pain of this game of waiting we’ve been forced to play. But if it brings us an ache we can’t push past, he’s being tortured by the excruciating pain; his life being claimed with every agonizing second that passes without news.
I move toward him, my hand touching his shoulder to grab his attention. He startles from his thoughts, offering me a tight smile.
“Get you anything?”
Shaking his head, a fresh wave of tears spears in the deep green of his eyes, and I hate myself a little in that moment for not being stronger to leave him be. Alone, he’s fighting to reinforce his shield against the invasive thoughts wanting to drown him. Approaching, I’d stopped that fight, open the floodgates of panic to crash into him like a tidal wave.
His gaze returning to the door leading to Annabelle, he clears his throat. “Nah. Good thanks, Frankie. Go sit down.”
There’s a selfishness in all of us right now, wanting, needing him to assure us he’s okay, that he’s coping, best he can. But he’s too tired, too preoccupied to give any of us a second thought.
We all feel useless, but I guess that sliver of space he’s asking for is the one thing we can give him. That, and our love, even at a distance.
Giving him the one thing he asked me for, the one thing I know I can give him, I turn back to everyone else. They’ve migrated into their pairs, cuddled up to offer the only comfort they can as we’re forced to wait.
Aubrey’s fallen asleep, her emotions finally lulling her into unconscious; head buried in Jake’s lap as he winds her hair around his finger over and over again. His pain is painted clearly within the deep lines of worry on his face; shades and shadows blurring the light that typically shines around him. His focus never shifts from Aubrey’s hair, centering his composure, the fear of stopping similar to Archer’s floodgates.
Willow sits between Toby’s legs, her cheek rested on his knee as they stare ahead into nothing; eyes wide in conscious sleep. They’re working their hardest to not let their fears overtake them, consciousness lets them fight off the thoughts wanting to creep into their nightmares.
Bennett and Darci wandered off only moments ago hand-in-hand in search for coffee. My guess is they’d be calling Mom and Dad as well, checking in on Emèli. Nothing fires your gratitude in life more than an upheaval in someone else’s.
Even Christopher’s here with Janie. He’s calm, collected, remaining positive while the rest of us internalize the fear consuming us. He explained as best he could what would be happening. Blood transfusions. Caesarian. I stopped listening after he started rattling off the ins and outs. It made it too real, too clinical.
Which leaves Luca, sitting by himself, the weight of the world on his shoulders. Blame that he could’ve done more crushing his spine. Relief that he was there combating the pressure of his demons.
I move toward him with purpose, crawling onto his lap without preamble. Face burying into his neck I inhale his comfort. The soft scent belonging only to him calming the anxiety bubbling under my skin.
He takes my embrace eagerly, large arms engulfing me. The familial show of affection sagging his body in relief as the tension ebbs slowly.
Nose digging into my hair, he inhales, kissing my crown. His lips move down, a rested kiss attaching itself to my temple. “Miss you, Crazy Girl.”
I bury into his body farther, needing to embed myself into his skin. “Luca,” I start, but I feel the shake of his head.
“I can’t talk about it again, Frankie. Not until I know Annabelle and their baby are okay. I just…. Please… distract me.”
The emotion in his throat is thick, scratching along the usual husk of his voice in hysteria. Today was the first time I’ve ever seen Luca cry, heard the broken sound of his tears. More than anything it taught me I never want to experience it again.
“Tell me about Arizona.”
Shifting along the uncomfortable hospital seating, his hand moves up and down the bent line of my leg. Drifting along my thigh, under the line of my ass and back again.
“Went to see Jen,” he admits.
“Oh.”
“I got my divorce, Frankie.” The beginnings of a smile touches his voice, and I’d be lying if I said my heart didn’t stutter in my chest.
Pulling my head from his neck, my eyebrows rise in disbelief. “How? I thought…. You gave her the cash?”
“Shhh…” He glances around the room, hand coming up to tuck my hair behind my ear. “Yeah, I gave her the cash.” He watches his hand, fingers brushing the shell of my ear. “I’d been holding onto shit for too long. Money has always meant nothing to me. Jen… she means nothing to me. Why hold onto one thing I resented to spite the other resentment in my life. She’s gone.” He shrugs, finally meeting my eyes. “It’s done, Frankie. I don’t have anything from my past weighing me down anymore.”
Our eyes tangle, the weight of our questions dancing between us in a thick silence.
“Guys.” Toby taps Luca’s shoulder, standing as he gestures toward Archer.
In the end, I couldn’t tell you how long we were waiting. In reality, a few hours maybe, but in my mind, and more important, likely Archer’s, it felt like waiting out a life sentence.
A doctor moves purposefully through the doors Archer has been fixated on, focus on the man moving toward him with the same determination.
Scurrying off Luca’s lap, we move forward, gathering a few feet behind Archer with the rest of our family. We wait quietly, hearing stretched to listen. Their voices are quiet though, hushed tones passed between them. Their hands connect, a strong handshake shared before Archer turns back to us, the doctor waiting a few steps behind.
“She’s stable.” His breath shakes along his body, the watery sound in his voice matched in the smile he offers. “She’s in recovery now. Looking to wake her up.”
Jake leading the charge, we rush forward, and he finally lets us hug him. Welcoming our relief with open arms. Bennett turns me into a blubbering mess again, his hand grabbing the back of Archer’s head to look into his eyes on an emotionally charged nod. A lot moves between them in that single second of time, and it flutters rapidly in my heart.
“I’m gonna…” He gestures back to
ward the doctor still waiting. “Ma?” He invites and she steps forward, brushing the wet tracks of tears from her cheeks.
Moving away, Archer stops, turning back, a wide smile cracking his face open. “I have a daughter, we have a little girl,” he announces, the tears in his eyes now ones of happiness. “They were monitoring her for a bit. She’s little, just five pounds, but strong.” He nods as he says that, like he knew she would be.
Janie throws herself at her son, a squeal of happiness breaking from her lips. To stop my body shaking, I hug Luca, tucking my body against his to let the expanse of his chest muffle my cries.
We watch Janie and Archer rush away, the despair clouding us only moments prior having lifted.
“Thank fuck,” Toby rasps as the door closes. “I don’t know whether to fucking cry or cheer. That was the scariest fucking…. Jesus.” He turns his back on us, shielding us from the break in his voice, the moment finally crashing down on him.
“Toby,” Bennett soothes, detangling from Darci’s embrace.
Turning back the grim lines that frame Toby’s eyes slice into my already fragile heart.
This is Toby. The fucking sunshine in our little makeshift family. The man who brings a smile to my face each and every day. Our happy fucking hippy.
“If we lost one of them today…” Bennett moves to wrap his arms around his friend, and Toby takes it eagerly, fist clenching at Bennett’s back. “We would’ve lost him… he… fuck.”
“I know.” Bennett squeezes him tighter. “I know.”
Rubbing his hands roughly over his face, Toby steps out of Bennett’s embrace, finger pointed at Jake and Aubrey. “You need to have boys; our kids need to procreate, grow our family. I’ll take a goat as dowry.” Turning, he looks at Luca and I. “Same goes for the two of you.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Luca
We trail into the room single file, necks arched to catch a glimpse of Annabelle before fully entering.
She looks tired; skin pale, dark circles cushioning her eyes. But more than that she looks happy. Her brown eyes, as sunken as they are; shine brightly as she sluggishly waves us in.
We gave her a few hours to rest before Toby decided he couldn’t wait a second longer; charging the nurse’s station demanding we be shown to her room with a flirtatious smile and the promise of treats.
Like we entered the room, we approach her one at a time; kisses dropped to her head, Jake’s lasting a little longer than the rest. Softly murmured words of love are whispered into her ear, making her smile grow.
That is until Aubrey gets there, hands clasping her best friend’s face, the kiss she drops to her forehead almost brutal. “Fucking drama Dean, you fucking bitch, I was so fucking scared.”
“That’s a lot of fuckings.” Her voice sounds scratchy, underused.
“Don’t ever do anything like that again,” Aubrey warns, the waterworks starting up again.
“Promise to try and not to bleed out ever again.”
“The fainting was a nice touch.” I move up beside Aubrey, smiling down at Annabelle.
“Luca.” She reaches for my hand.
“Wait… I thought you passed out due to blood loss,” Aubrey accuses.
Clearing her throat, Annabelle looks away.
“Paramedic said it wasn’t typical,” I offer. “Said she likely fainted.”
“You really are a fucking drama queen, you know that?”
Giggles filter around the room and Annabelle rolls her eyes. “I didn’t do it on fucking purpose,” she croaks out. “I felt light-headed, looked down, saw a lot of blood, and that’s all I remember.”
“Glad you’re okay.” I pull her hand, still holding mine, to my lips.
She swallows deeply, her free hand coming to rest on our joined ones.
“Luca… I… thank you.”
Leaning down, I kiss her cheek. “Nothing to thank me for, sweetness. All that’s important to me is that you and your baby girl are okay.”
“She’s divine, Luca,” she breathes. “Go. Meet her.”
Offering her hand one last squeeze, I move toward Archer, the bundle of pink blankets and a matching beanie resting in his arms.
He looks like the epitome of the cat that got the cream; eyes alight with pride, chest expanding with the swell of his heart.
“She’s beautiful.” I smile down at the little sleeping face, dark lashes fanned out across her plump cheeks, my hand reaching out to shake Archer's in congratulations.
He takes my hand, his grip tight. "Just like her momma.” He glances to his wife briefly, his face softening. "Her name is Sachi.” He turns back to me, eyes focused on the bundle in his arms.
Lifting my head, I smile. "I like it. Sachi Dean."
"Sachi Kelly Dean." He squeezes my hand, and a tightness rips around my heart, cutting off my ability to breath.
I'm lost for words. Dumbfounded, and shocked, and one hundred percent positive I heard wrong. Because there is no way, in God’s good earth that Archer Dean gave me a namesake.
I move to speak, my lips opening, but that's where it ends. I'm humbled in a way that a simple thank you would never suffice. No words could offer this moment justice. This man, who began as a thorn in my side, digging in deeper with every interaction, has just welcomed me into his family in a way I could never imagine.
Settling on my silence, I pray it's telling enough. A lot is said in those quiet seconds; apologies, understanding, acceptance, all as Archer reads the emotion in my eyes.
He doesn't comment on the tears blurring my vision, the quiver in my hand currently still clasped in his. Finally nodding, our hands detach, and I move toward Annabelle, avoiding the eyes of everyone else in the room, lips dropping to her head.
"Thank you," I whisper, the quiet crack in my voice echoing loudly through the space.
"Couldn't think of a more perfect addition to her name." She grasps my forearm, her smile tired. "Forever grateful to you, Luca. Hope every time you see our baby girl, you remember that."
"I want to know what she's gonna do when she falls in love with Luca's son and her name becomes Sachi Kelly St. Kelly."
I can feel the eyes roll around the room, the sound of Willow hitting her husband in the back of the head.
"It's a legitimate concern," he argues.
"Don't make me kick the guy’s ass after he just saved my wife and kid. Especially after giving my girl his name, kind of ruins the moment."
I watch Toby turn to Bennett, his voice a quiet murmur that no one else can hear. Bennett looks to me, Archer, then back to Toby, shaking his hand.
"Includes inflation, Lady Killer."
Turning back to the rest of us, Toby feigns innocence. "What? Just a business deal between two grown men. Mind yo' business."
Finding a seat by the door, I settle into introspection.
I've spent most of my life alone. Family and friends within reach, but their love was always given out of obligation. It's the worst kind of loneliness. Depressing in a way that begins to poison you from the inside out. I let the bitterness of that missed affection overtake me until I was the feelings inside of me.
I was angry.
I was bitter.
I was detached.
Then I met Jake Dean. A guy who showed me what real friendship looked like. A guy who taught me the importance of making sure your people were where you needed them, right by your side as you journeyed through life. He opened my eyes to a family I could never have imagined would be mine. A family that welcomed me with open arms.
I've spent my life drifting, searching for a purpose. The people filling this room, they're my purpose. They were the family I was searching for, and fuck me if I'm not gonna hold on with everything I have.
I glance to each and every one of them, caught in their own conversations, and send a silent prayer of thanks for their place in my life.
My eyes fall to Frankie. My crazy girl. The woman that claimed a heart I could never have imagined would trust aga
in. More than that, she sparked an inferno within it. A fire I want us to douse in gasoline, let it burn until the moment I take my very last breath on this earth. Actually, fuck that. Fuck breathing… I want to suffocate in the feelings I have inside of me.
My eyes rest on her expectantly, waiting for her to look at me so I can pull her away. Tell her everything I’m feeling. But she avoids me as best she can. Cautious in her movements, she sticks with Darci on the other side of the room, face artfully evading my probing glance.
Everyone settled, quiet humming in the air as we all take comfort in being here, together. The mood is relaxed, and before I realized I’ve spoken my words breaking the stillness of the room, hanging over our heads in expectation. “Frankie, babe, you gotta a second?”
Drenched in fear, she shakes her head. She’s afraid I’m preparing to break her heart again. I don’t blame her, I’ve done it before. I’ve been consistent in my hot and cold approach from day one. I’ve given her nothing to believe this moment right here would be any different.
“Not tonight, Luc,” she finally speaks, her head still shaking in a silent plea for me to leave her be. “I can’t…” She glances around at our friends, our family; faces worn down in exhaustion, the stress of the day finally catching up to us all. “Not tonight,” she repeats.
I open my mouth to speak again, leaning forward in my chair, elbows braced on my knees in soundless prayer.
“Actually, I’m gonna head off,” she shuts me out, moving toward Annabelle and Archer with purpose.
“Frankie,” I start, but she ignores me, kissing cheeks and mumbling her goodbyes.
I stand as she hurries past me, swearing under my breath. Carnation’s fucking cupid curse. I’m about to become another lovesick fool in this happily ever-after-town. Declaring my love publicly for every asshole to hear, even if they are my friends. But in this moment, I know I’m happy to have been pierced by that fucking arrow. Once upon a time, I was broken down by love, hurt in a way I vowed never to dip my toes into the temptation of it again. Little did I know that pesky little feeling that sneaks up on you when you’re not looking, it was my path to healing. It may have broken me, but it sure as shit pieced me back together.
