STEEL WAS STANDING alone outside the waiting room when I made my way back in there to give everyone an update, and to give Luke and Charlotte some time alone with Dixie. I stopped and waited for him to say what he was out here to say. This moment was coming. I knew he had things he needed to say. It was only fair. This had been hard on him, too. We both almost lost the girl we loved.
“She woke up and wanted you,” he said simply.
It wasn’t a question, just a simple statement.
“When she was taken away and we didn’t know why or what was going on,” he paused. “My first thoughts weren’t of Dixie. They weren’t of me. The first thing that ran through my head was that you wouldn’t survive this. That was it. I was terrified, sure. The idea of Dixie . . . the whole damn thing was scary as hell. But my first thought was that you’d not make it through this if you lost her.”
He paused and looked away from me. I watched as he swallowed hard and took a deep breath. “I loved Dixie. Hell, I’ll always care about her. But I love you more. You’re my brother. It took that moment to show me how I felt about it all. I was worried about you. If I was meant to be with Dixie, I’d have been thinking of her. Like you were. You cared about nothing else but knowing she was alive. That she was going to make it. The rest of us were scared for her, too. But we were mostly focused on being strong for you.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. Instead of talking, I closed the space between us and hugged him. For forgiving me, for loving me, for understanding that Dixie was my heart. She had been for longer than even I realized.
“I want that, though. One day. What you have with her. I want to feel that way for someone. Maybe not tomorrow, or even next month. Hell, I might be good for a few years. But one day,” he grinned as he said it.
“You will,” I told him. “But expect it to be anything but easy.”
“After what I’ve seen, what I’ve been through, I don’t think love is meant to be easy. At least not the kind worth having.”
He was right. Things that came easily were rarely worth keeping.
Heels clicking against the tile floor interrupted us. We both turned to see a familiar redhead. One that had made the twins’ life anything but easy.
“Charlotte texted me that she’s awake,” Scarlet said. She looked thinner and had dark circles under her eyes. The light that I was used to seeing in her eyes was dimmed. Dixie would hate to see that. She’d worry about her.
“Yeah, I can take you to her room,” I told her.
“Thank you.”
“No problem. I know she wants to see you.” Although I wished Scarlet looked a little less sad. For Dixie’s sake.
“I’ll go to the waiting room and, uh, manage things there,” Steel said, meaning he’d keep Brent and Bray in there and away from Scarlet.
“Good idea.”
Once he was gone, Scarlet said, “Looks like at least two of the Sutton boys have worked things out.”
“We always do,” I assured her. Because we did. We were brothers and shit may happen, but in the end, we were family.
“I want that for Brent and Bray,” she sounded broken.
“They will be fine, eventually. But they can’t get there if you’re around.” I knew that wasn’t easy for her to hear, but it was the truth and she needed to know it.
She nodded in agreement.
Dixie Monroe
MY BEDROOM HAD been filled with flowers from friends and family. They were finally starting to wilt and die. The hospital room got too full so they’d brought most of them home throughout the week that I was there. Asher stayed the nights with me. He wouldn’t leave my side and my dad said that if he or Mom stayed, Asher would just sleep in the waiting room on chairs. I begged them to let him stay with me. At least he had a sofa bed to sleep on in my room.
That week now seemed like a blur. I’d been home for over two weeks. My physical therapy was three times a week at a local place. Asher took me there and back to each appointment. We were together. We were no longer hiding.
When I’d first arrived home, it felt odd just even standing in that living room. I had basically died there. My heart had stopped beating. Thanks to my parents, it had only stopped for a few seconds before the paramedics arrived. But I had died in this very house and lived to tell about it.
Asher had stood behind me with his hand on my waist as I stared at the floor where I remembered everything going black. I didn’t remember any white lights or angels sending me back to earth. I wasn’t sure if that meant I hadn’t died at all or if that white light thing was just a myth. But I knew my life would have ended had my family not been there.
Being back home felt good, though. Everything felt brighter. Life felt more precious. I didn’t take anything for granted anymore. Asher came over after work every night and we had dinner together, watched television, and just laid out under the stars most nights. Being together was all that seemed to matter. We didn’t talk about his plans for the future, but we both knew I wasn’t going to Clemson now. Although the doctor said I could, I was scared. I knew in time I’d be brave again. I just needed some time to get used to this. I had enrolled at a junior college that I could drive to every day instead. Asher had one year left at Florida and being away from him was going to be difficult, but I would have him any way I could. I could survive the distance.
Tonight Asher had texted he’d be working late at the farm after he finished at the Feed and Seed. As much as I would miss him, I knew he’d given up all his free time for me. He had things he had to take care of and I couldn’t be selfish. I took a shallow bath so that my stitches didn’t get wet while I read a new book Mom had bought me. It helped pass the time.
When I stepped back into my room, I noticed there was a path of small envelopes leading to my window where my camera sat along with one last envelope leaning against it. I picked up the first one and opened it. Inside was a photo of me with Asher and Brent fishing with my dad at the lake. I was about nine years old. Smiling, I went to the next envelope and picked it up. It was a photo of me riding the handlebars of Asher’s bike across the farm when I was eleven.
Picking up the third envelope, I was anxious to see the next picture. It was of me at thirteen, my cheeks pink from blushing as I stared at the photographer. I was sitting outside on the fence watching the horses. Asher had taken that photo. He’d been taking photos of the new horse Dad had brought to show the Knolls. But he had started taking pictures of me instead and I’d been so shy around him. And completely in love. It was obvious in the photo.
The fourth one was of us. Our first photo of us officially being together. Mom had taken it on my birthday. The birthday he had kissed me and given me the charm for my bracelet.