“It’s okay,” I assure him, trying to keep the pain from my voice. “She must have her reasons for—”
Before I can finish, he pushes his chair back and strides to the door. Alarm jolts through me as he goes after Allie and her friend.
He calls Allie’s name from across the street, his voice sharp. She stops, turning as he approaches—every line of his body edged with aggression and anger.
I get to my feet and fumble to put my coat back on. Dean spreads his arms out, and even from a distance I can see his features hardening as he scorches Allie with an admonishment.
Though I know the exact reason for his lashing out—he can’t stand the thought of anyone not giving me the same constancy of love and loyalty that, for him, is like breathing—I also know this seems like an unprovoked attack.
I run outside, the sudden rush of adrenaline spinning through my head as I cross to the other sidewalk. Dean’s voice hits my ears before I’m halfway to him.
“…and if you think you’re any kind of friend to her, much less a partner—”
“Dean.” I hurry to grab the sleeve of his coat. “It’s okay. Let it go.”
He glowers at me, yanking his arm from my grip. “It’s not fucking okay that one of your best friends is treating you like a goddamned leper.”
Allie is so pale her skin appears bloodless, her eyes huge pools of despair behind her purple-framed glasses. Behind her, Emily looks like she’s in shock. A few passers-by glance in our direction.
“Dean.” I manage to get my hand on his arm again. Dizziness washes through my head. “Let’s go.”
Allie’s gaze swerves to me. Her face crumples, tears filling her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Liv,” she whispers, her voice breaking. “I’m sorry.”
“She’s needed you,” Dean snaps.
“Dean, stop it.” My voice sounds oddly far away.
I tighten my grip on his arm the exact instant he steps forward. My boot slips on an icy patch on the sidewalk, and I feel myself tilt horribly off-balance.
I grab for Dean again, but he’s not there. My fist closes on air. My legs crumple underneath me. His voice resounds in my ears. I put out my hand to break the fall, my wrist twisting the instant before pain shoots up my arm.
Chapter 33
Dean
“Dean, it was an accident.”
Liv’s skin is yellowish in the overhead fluorescent lights of the hospital emergency room, her eyes downcast.
Sure. I pull my gaze from her and stare at the floor, gripping my hands together. The burn inside me is back—eating away at everything, leaving a path of hot, dusty ashes.
If I hadn’t asked her to meet me at Java Works.
If I hadn’t gone after Allie.
If I hadn’t let go of Liv.
“Dean.” She settles her good hand on my arm, her expression somber. “I don’t blame you, but I’m going to tell you that you’re starting to hurt us. You’ve been more like yourself these past few weeks, but you have to find a way to deal with your anger. I’m having a hard enough time getting through these treatments without worrying about you too.”
I know she’s right. I just don’t know how the hell to change. The only times I feel okay, even good, are the days when Nicholas, Archer, and I work on the tree house. But even then, simmering underneath everything like a river of fire, is the horror of what Liv is still enduring. And the fear of what the scans will reveal once she’s finished with chemo.
The curtain flips open, and the emergency room doctor enters, followed by a nurse. They both glance from me to Liv. Tension grips my neck suddenly.
“Looks like a moderate sprain, but no fracture.” The doctor turns an X-ray on the computer screen toward us. “A compression bandage and ice will help.”
He takes an elastic bandage from a cart and unrolls it. “Mr. West, will you step out for a moment, please?”
“He doesn’t have to—” Liv begins, but the nurse is holding the curtain open for me.
I walk a short distance away, trying to breathe past the tightness in my chest. If they overheard what Liv said…
The questions they must be asking her stab through my mind.
Did your husband hurt you? Does he have trouble managing his anger? Do you feel safe with him?
Holy fucking Christ.
An eternity passes. When the nurse calls me back in, I can’t look at Liv. Not even the brush of her hand against mine eases my sense that if