“So, now what?” Jami asks, looking as lost as I feel.
I swallow. “I guess this means we’re going to North Carolina.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
HOPE
My heels clack against the downtown Seattle pavement, causing me to cringe. It’s Monday, three days since the ferry transported me to Anacortes and I made the drive back to Seattle. My first thought was that the city felt as foreign to me now as it did when I first arrived last year. That feeling hasn’t changed, and today feels heavier than any other day since.
I stop at the corner cafe and wait in line to grab my coffee. Not even my old routine can jar me back into my previous state of mind, when the city was new, fresh, and exciting. Back then, I was blissfully unaware of the large bandage I’d taped over my heart in an effort to move on as quickly as possible from Anderson Bexley. Now everything just feels… wrong.
My phone feels hot in my hands since I’ve been checking it nonstop, awaiting any and every message from Anderson to let me know how he and his brothers are doing. So far, all has been pretty much the same.
Cayson was airlifted to a hospital in Fayetteville, where he’s been hooked up to monitors ever since. He’s in a coma, not breathing on his own, and still marked as in critical condition.
I step forward in line, praying today is the day Anderson will get good news. Maybe it’s my lack of sleep while I await to hear from Anderson or the fact that I’m in Seattle heading to a job that no longer feels like my dream, but a shadow is now cast over my heart.
I remember my first day in Seattle when I was clueless as to what the future held but excited. Excited for a fresh start and ready for anything. In retrospect, maybe I was a little too ready. Too naive. Too completely blindsided by the glitz and glamor of city life.
For a while there, I truly started to believe city life was better. It only took a week in Orcas Island to know just how jaded I’d become.
Once I have my coffee in hand, I head toward the office, jerking to a stop the moment I feel my phone going off in my pocket. When I see that it’s Anderson, I hold my breath, praying for good news. “Hey,” I answer.
“Hey,” he says, his upbeat tone not at all what I had anticipated. “They took Cayson off the ventilator this morning, and he’s breathing on his own.”
A sigh of relief blows through me. “That’s great news.” My heart clenches, knowing that’s the first step in a long list of things that need to go right for Cayson to be back to full health. “He still hasn’t woken up?”
There’s a shuffling noise, like Anderson’s head is on a pillow or something. I know he’s been sleeping at the hospital with Jami. I can’t imagine how exhausted they must be.
“They said they’re more hopeful today than they were yesterday, but there aren’t any guarantees. Now that he’s breathing on his own, it’s a waiting game until he opens his eyes.”
“He’ll be so relieved to see you when he does.”
“Yeah,” Anderson says, sounding hopeful. “Doc says it’s a long road to recovery. He’ll need somewhere to live where he can be looked after. Mom offered to look after him, but Jami and I don’t feel comfortable with that since Dad is such a loose cannon.” A few beats of silence pass between us. “I think I’m going to bring him back to camp so he can heal at home. He’ll have his own nurse and me. Jami will come to visit. Even Mom said she’d come often.”
My heart swells. This may not be the family picture Anderson had in mind when he renovated Camp Bexley, but it sure sounds like something close to it. “I think that’s a great idea.”
“It’s not how I wanted to get any of my brothers home, but I just want him to be okay, you know?”
I let out a sigh. “Of course, Anderson. Speaking of home. Is everything okay at camp? Silver offered her seaplane if you need me to check on things while you’re away.”
“Thanks, but I think the staff has it all covered. They’re a well-oiled machine at this point.”
I smile, remembering how much that statement rings true. Anderson always has his hands in everything, but that doesn’t discount that he trusts his team to be accountable. “Let me know, okay? I feel antsy being here while you’re there. Maybe I can come this weekend.”
“As much as I would love that, they wouldn’t even let you into the hospital here. You should stay.”
My frown is so heavy, I can feel it weighing down my chest. “Is Jami still there with you?”
“Yeah, and Mom too. We’ve been taking shifts.”
“Good. What about Benson? Any word from him?”
Anderson sighs. “Nope. Nothing.”
I look at the skyscraper looming in front of me and squeeze my eyes shut. “Dexter’s back in the office today.” I got lucky at work last Friday with Dexter having to fly to California for that business trip he kept delaying. “I don’t want to see him.”
“Well, you can’t really avoid him, seeing that he’s your boss.”
I know Anderson hates me being here, but he has also given me his grace and trust to figure this out on my own. I’m so appreciative. “I’ve been applying for other jobs. There’s a position at BelleCurve actually. It’s in their production department, so Dexter can’t wave the noncompete. I think I could really like it.”
“I like that company. They hold some big events at the camp.” He lets out a chuckle. “Should have hired them in the first place.”
My lips turn up at the sides. “Be careful, Bexley. If you hadn’t hired Urgency, where would we be now?”
“I’d like to think you’d be coming to your senses about now.” His voice rumbles softly in my ear. “We would have wound up together somehow, Hope. Fate has a funny way of playing out.”
My chest warms at his words. “You’re such a romantic.”
“Only for you.” There’s another shuffling sound, and then Anderson’s voice comes back on the line. “Hey, I’ve got to go. Doctor’s here with some news. I’ll call you tonight, okay?”
My heart rate quickens. “Okay. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
The stiff, cold air blowing through Urgency’s lobby is a stark contrast to nature’s breeze around camp. And the expensive artwork, bare lobby, and fancy wallpaper are other reminders of how I never fit in to this place. I tried. And maybe I even eventually figured out how to play the part, but until Anderson broke my heart that fateful night more than a year ago, I’d never had any desire to fit into anyone’s mold.
Broken hearts have the power to change lives, to alter futures, and to destroy one's innocence. But loved hearts… those have the power to heal. That’s what this past week has felt like. Healing. And now, I’m ready to fight whatever battle is in store for me because I’m starting to forget what I was holding on to.
I’ve barely gotten to my desk when Dexter’s authoritative tone chimes over my phone intercom. “Miss Davies, I’d like to see you in my office now.”
My entire body cringes at the familiar tone. This has been the moment I’ve been dreading.