Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 57099 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57099 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
The declaration hung in the air between them, a gauntlet thrown down with such quiet certainty that even Brynn seemed momentarily lost for a comeback. I watched my daughter’s face, saw the conflict, the desperate desire to reject this man who’d been absent her entire life battling against the undeniable pull of finally having a father who wanted her and wanted to protect her.
Knight broke the standoff by checking his watch. “It’s almost dinner time, and hospital food is shit. I’ll be back in an hour with food from the nurses’ approved list. Hopefully, something Brynn might actually want to eat. You two need anything else while I’m out?”
The normalcy of his question, as if he hadn’t just declared himself part of our family against Brynn’s explicit rejection, left me speechless. Before either of us could answer, Knight was moving toward the door.
“Don’t look so worried, Lavender,” he said, pausing at the threshold, giving me an encouraging smile. “We’ll figure this out. All of it.” And with that, he was gone, leaving Brynn and me staring at each other in stunned silence.
Part of me wanted to run after him, to tell him he couldn’t just storm back into our lives and take over. But the other part, the part that had been drowning alone for eleven years, felt something dangerously close to relief.
After Knight left, the silence in the room felt heavier than before. Brynn glared at the door, then at me, her pale face flushed with emotion. I perched on the edge of her bed, trying to find the right words to bridge the chasm between us. How could I explain that accepting help wasn’t the same as admitting defeat? That sometimes survival meant swallowing your pride? I’d been teaching her independence her entire life. Maybe too well.
“Brynn,” I started, keeping my voice gentle. “I know this is a lot to process. I’m not thrilled about needing help either, but --”
“You don’t get it,” she cut in, her fingers already reaching for her headphones. “He’s just itching to take off. He did nothing but fidget the whole time you were gone. He doesn’t want to be here, and I don’t want him here.”
“Baby --”
She shook her head, the blue strands of her hair brushing her shoulders. “You were the one who always said we didn’t need anyone else. That we were enough.”
The accusation stung because it was true. I had said those things, repeated them like a mantra during the hardest times. Maybe I’d been trying to convince myself as much as her. “Sometimes circumstances change,” I said carefully. “And right now, we do need help. Medical bills, housing…” I gestured helplessly. “It doesn’t make us weak to accept it.”
Brynn’s expression hardened, and she slipped her headphones over her ears with deliberate slowness. Conversation over.
“Great. Headphones. The universal sign for ‘don’t fucking bother me,’” I muttered to myself as I collapsed into the vinyl hospital chair beside her bed.
I stared at my daughter’s profile, at the stubborn set of her jaw so like her father’s. I knew the problem. She liked Knight. Probably more than she wanted to admit. If he left after this, she’d be devastated and she didn’t know how to process her feelings. It had always been me and her. Now she’d let someone else in, she realized how badly it would suck if that person left.
The man I’d fallen in love with all those years ago had been replaced by someone else. Someone harder and maybe even a little bit mean. But beneath the exterior, I caught glimpses of the same core. The unflinching loyalty, the sharp intelligence, the ability to see straight to the heart of a problem hadn’t changed. And now that loyalty had expanded to include Brynn and, by extension, me.
I still didn’t know what to do with my feelings for Knight, so I didn’t expect Brynn to know what to do with hers. I did know me and Knight needed to have a long talk about what happened next.
A nurse popped in to check Brynn’s vitals, her movements practiced and efficient. Brynn didn’t remove her headphones, just nodded or shook her head at direct questions. After the nurse left, we lapsed back into our standoff.
The smell hit me before I heard the door open -- savory, rich, nothing like the bland hospital food that had been our staple for weeks. Knight backed into the room, arms loaded with takeout containers, his broad shoulders filling the door frame. Brynn’s head snapped up, her nostrils flaring slightly at the aroma. Even in her anger, she couldn’t hide her interest.
“Food delivery,” Knight announced, somehow managing to close the door with his foot without dropping anything. “From that Mediterranean place down the street. The nurse gave me a list of what he thought tasted the best while still being on an approved renal diet.”