time it’s two of them,” Conrad says.
He has no idea how much his words mean to me. That my family sees and accepts how incredible the woman is who’s stolen every last piece of my heart.
“Thanks for stopping by,” I tell my brothers.
“Oh, here.” Marshall hands me a bag that I didn’t see until now. “Just a couple of bottles of sweet tea, some Combos, beef jerky. I thought you could use some snacks.”
“Thanks, Marsh.”
He nods.
After a round of goodbyes, my brothers leave, and my parents push open the door. “I didn’t think they would ever leave,” my mom says, going to the opposite side of the bed. I watch as she gently picks up Layla’s hand, mindful of her IV and holds it in hers. “How’s our girl doing?” Mom asks.
“G-Good,” I say, clearing my throat. “At least that’s what they tell me. I just want her to wake up and stay awake. I want to hear her voice and see those baby blues,” I say, looking at Layla. Her eye is still swollen shut, and her face appears to have every color under the rainbow from the bruising. The doctors assure me it’s all normal and a part of the healing process. I hate it. Every time I look at her, I want to go down to the jail and strangle her mother and Don for doing this to her.
“She’s healing, Owen. It’s going to take some time, but she’s going to be okay. None of her injuries are life-threatening. The concussion gave them pause, but she’s showing great improvement.” My mother recites what the doctors told me word for word. That tells me that she’s been harassing the medical staff, which has my mouth tilting in a grin.
“You know how she is,” Dad says. “When it’s one of her babies, she takes charge, and I’m not the only man who can’t say no to her.” He chuckles.
“Hush,” she says, her smile wide. “I wanted to make sure we weren’t missing anything.” She places Layla’s hand back on the bed and digs into her purse. She pulls out some kind of wipes and begins to carefully wipe at Layla’s face.
“Mom, what are you doing?”
“These are going to make her feel fresh. She’s going to feel all nasty when she wakes up. I’m hoping this will help.”
“Let her be, son,” Dad tells me. “You know once she sets her mind to something, there’s no stopping her.”
I nod, knowing he’s right. It warms my heart that my mother wants to take such good care of Layla. I talk with my parents for about fifteen minutes or so. “Here’s a bag of clothes. When she wakes up, there are some toiletries as well. We stopped by your place on the way here. I had to sweet talk those police officers to let me in,” she says with a grin. “I’m not sure how soon until they will let her shower, but when she does, she’s going to feel better having her own things.”
“Thank you, Momma,” I say, standing and walking to where she stands on the opposite side of the bed, giving her a hug.
“We love you both. There’s a room ready for the two of you whenever you need it. And the offer stands if you want to go get some sleep. I won’t leave her side.”
“Thanks, but I’m not leaving.”
“We didn’t think you would,” Dad says from behind me.
“Call us when our girl wakes up. I’ll be back this evening to bring you dinner.”
“Mom, you don’t have to do that.”
“I know I don’t have to. I want to. Oh, there are some clean clothes for you in that bag as well.”
“Thank you both.”
“We love you. Both of you.” Six words spoken by my father that just about bring me to my knees. I won the lottery when it comes to parents, and I know without a shadow of a doubt that they’re going to shower my girl with all the love and affection she can take once I spring her out of here. Hell, they already are, and she doesn’t even know it.
They shut the door softly behind them, and it’s just the two of us. I take my seat next to her bed and hold her hand in mine. I’ve done this a thousand times over the last couple of days. My thumb runs over her ring finger, and I can’t help but wonder what my ring will look like on her finger. Taking the box from my