three broken rock gods. When the world wrote off my pain, I could run to them and forget. They’d be my shelter, my peace, and my solace. I could sing, I could sleep, I could laugh, I could cry. In their arms, I could just be.
All I needed to know was why they weren’t here now.
“Mom—”
The door opened, interrupting me before I could ask her about them. I felt my belly tighten and warm. Was it them?
“Ms. Fawn, you had quite the ordeal,” the doctor greeted when he walked in with my father.
Sighing, I deflated against the mound of pillows before staring at the lilac stem in my hand.
Yeah.
No kidding.
It was thirty-eight degrees outside, and my balls were freezing, but I stayed put out in the open and the blowing wind. I wanted to be sure we were the first thing Braxton saw when she was wheeled from the hospital.
It had been ten days since she ripped my heart from my chest. Her parents had kicked us out when they arrived, and there was nothing we could do when they forbade us from seeing her.
Braxton, always the merciless mind-fucker, kept her expression neutral as I took her in. She had bruising under her eyes and on her cheeks that were beginning to fade and wore the change of clothes we had Dani deliver thanks to Rosalie tipping us off that today was her sister’s discharge date.
Eventually, Braxton tore her gaze away and lifted her head to say something to her mother.
When Mrs. Fawn immediately started to argue, we started forward. Amelia had no power outside of that hospital, and we weren’t leaving here without her daughter.
Our only relief was the amusement in Braxton’s gaze as her mother became more and more upset by the syllable. We were close enough now to clearly make out their conversation.
“They didn’t have to tell me you banned them from seeing me, Mother. How would they? I know you. Better still, I know them.”
“Braxton, I did what was best for you, and I will not apologize.”
“No. You did what was best for you. If it had been about me, the support I needed, however much, would have outweighed your comfort.”
It was clear whatever common ground the two had found over the last week and a half had ended.
“You’ve made it clear how you feel about my choices, Braxton, but if you don’t have to apologize for who you are, why should I?”
Braxton nodded her agreement and then raised one truth with another. “Exactly. It was your choice. I’ve never tried to force my ideas on you, and I’ve never ostracized you for thinking differently than me.”
“Is that what you call raising and protecting you?”
“I’m an adult now, Mom. What’s your excuse?” Braxton asked her dryly.
“You told your sister to murder an innocent life when it goes against everything we’ve taught you both. That’s my excuse.”
“Mom.” Braxton closed her eyes and kept them shut. “For the last time, I never told Rosalie to abort her baby. She knew what she wanted before she came to me. I didn’t put those thoughts in her head or the words in her mouth. She spoke them all on her own. My only crime was offering to stand by her no matter what.” Her eyes opened, and they met her mother’s. “Something we both knew you’d fail to do.”
“Rosalie’s a child. She didn’t know what she was saying.”
“I considered that,” Braxton told her while nodding again. “So I made sure I didn’t sugarcoat a damn thing, and guess what, Mom? Rosalie never wavered. Not even once. Because she didn’t want to be a wife and mother. She wanted to stay a kid. She wanted to grow up on her time. She wanted the chance to find herself.” My baby gave her mother a withering look. “Clearly, the repercussions of having an abortion didn’t scare her nearly as much as you.”
Braxton stood from the wheelchair on shaky legs, but when we started forward to help her, she gave us a look to back the hell off. Loren and I held up our hands in surrender as we did just that.
“So congratulations, Mother. Your personal opinions just cost Rosalie her dreams, her childhood, the chance at true love, and the next eighteen years of her life. But as you pointed out, you made your choice, so why not make your daughter’s too.”
Braxton shrugged as if it didn’t matter, but her eyes told a different story.