Because of You

The Third Time

Mom studied me, as if afraid to let me go. I knew what the call she'd received today must've done to her; how it would've dragged her back to that awful afternoon, and the pain, no, the horror I saw in her eyes sparked guilt in me.

Yes, the reminder of Dad's absence still hurt her, deeply. How could I have thought she'd been more dismissive of him?

She squeezed my arms. "I can . . . see what I can do," she finally said. "If I'm not in the way." With one final nod, she disappeared down the hall.

And I was waiting again.

I suddenly really hated this room. The sitting. The silence. All of it. If only someone would break it.

As if prompted by my thoughts, five minutes after Mom had left, Bellamy reappeared, a bandage covering a laceration he'd gotten above his right brow. The sight of him made me both tense up and relax. One look at me gave him his answer: no news yet.

He returned stoically to his seat and leaned forward, elbows on his knees, one hand wrapped around a fist. "Why do you think it's taking so long?" he asked.

My foot tapped restlessly against the floor. How long had I been doing that? "My mom just got here. I asked her to check."

Bellamy nodded. He didn't look at me but kept his attention on his hands. "You did everything you could," he murmured softly.

Five words. Five words sent my vision swimming. I blinked again and again, and shook my head, as if to refuse the tears. "No," I whispered. "Not yet." I swallowed. "You don't get to tell me that yet."

Not when it sounded like an admission.

"I just . . .I just want you to know. If you hadn't been there-"

"Where are the Roffans?" I asked, cutting him off.

Bellamy had enough grace not to question it. "I called them when I was getting checked out. Maureen went with Clint to a meeting he had in Laramie. They're coming now-"

In that moment, eclipsed between the wings of white coats and passersby, I glimpsed my Mom.

I stood so fast, the blood ran from my head.

When Bellamy noticed, he was on his feet too, previous words forgotten, lost in the sudden storm of fear, panic, worry, dread. I tried to read my mom's facial expression. Doctor or not, I was her daughter, and her mask did not work so well on me.

I could see enough to know that what news she'd discovered wasn't bad.

"She's out of surgery," she said once she'd reached us. "For now, she's stable. They're getting ready to transfer her to recovery."

The sound of Bellamy's relief escaped him all in a single breath, and he splayed a hand against the wall as if to steady himself. He made that sound a second time. And a third.

"Thank you," he finally managed. Before he even looked at me, almost as some sort of reflex, he pulled me into him, arms wrapping around my waist and crushing me to his chest. He made that sound against my hair.

I waited for the relief to hit me, but it didn't. I knew too many potential complications, things that could still go wrong. I wasn't about to be caught off guard by them, not yet at least.

After a moment, Bellamy withdrew his arms. "When can I see her?"

"Shouldn't be too long," Mom said. "Dr. Tanner, Octavia's doctor, should let you know soon."

"Thank you, Dr. Griffin."

She smiled before turning to me. "It was a good thing that you were there," she said, taking my hand. I saw her tears start to well.