Chapter 28 – Grayson

I sit on the couch, staring at the TV but not really watching it. My mind keeps replaying what happened at lunch. Belle put Cam on the spot, and the jerk squirmed. Is it possible she’s been telling me the truth? Is she really an innocent victim of Cam’s manipulation? If so, would she have told me the truth? Or would she have kept silent, allowing me to believe nothing ever happened? No matter what the truth is, it doesn’t change the facts. She had her lips on Cam’s while she was my girlfriend. That’s unacceptable. For all I know, they kissed more after I ran out of the school.

“Ready?” Dad asks. He’s freshly showered, his dark hair curling around his ears.

“Yup.” I stand and shut off the television.

“Good, because I can’t wait to get these stitches out of my hand. They itch like you wouldn’t believe.” He laughs and shoves his wallet into his back pocket.

According to the doctor, Dad’s not supposed to drive until the stitches are out, but that hasn’t stopped him. I know he’s been running errands while I’m in school. Can’t really blame him—there’s no way I could spend all day stuck in the house with nothing to do. Which is really the only reason I’m going back to the ER with him tonight, so I don’t have to sit here alone. Lately, my thoughts are not my friend.

Dad hands me the truck keys, and we head to the hospital.

“Any luck finding a regular doctor?” I ask.

“Bryan set me up with his family doctor, but she can’t see us until next month.”

I nod. Thankfully, the doctor who treated Dad is also a general practitioner, so he’s been seeing Dad for follow up appointments at the hospital because we’re new in town and not yet completely settled. It’s nice of him—the Christian thing to do, as the doctor said—but the waits at the hospital are unreasonable.

“How was school today?” he asks.

I pull into the parking lot and find an empty spot. “Fine.”

“And Isabelle?”

“Still broken up.” I take the keys from the ignition and hand them to Dad. Then I’m out of the truck before he can ask any more questions.

Today, it takes only two hours to get seen, and Dad gets a full medical release so he can return to normal activities. And work. I know that makes him happy.

“Hungry?” he asks as we walk down the hallway toward the exit.

“Yeah, I could—” I stop suddenly. To my right is a room reserved for family members who’re waiting for loved ones in surgery. “Belle?”

She’s curled up in one of the chairs, knees hugged to her chest. She looks up, and her face is distraught. My heart stops.

“Go on.” Dad nods for me to go to her. “Call me when you’re ready to come home.” He leaves without another word.

“Are you okay?” I ask, approaching Belle.

She shakes her head, her face wet with tears. Her entire body trembles. I sit beside her, and she flings her arms around my neck and sobs. I hold her, unsure what to say, and let her cry as I stroke her hair. I have no idea what’s wrong, but seeing her like this tears me apart. Burying my face in her hair, I inhale deeply. I’ve missed the feel of her in my arms.

“My mom.” She hiccups. “She…she…”

“Hey, it’s okay.” I hold her out at arm’s length, cradling her face, and peer into her eyes. “You don’t have to explain.”

Nodding, she lowers her head. I want nothing more than to make her pain go away. Standing, I guide her to the two-person chair near the window, and we sit, unencumbered by the hard, wooden armrests. I wrap my arm around her shoulders, and she rests her head on my chest, exactly like she always does when we watch movies together.

We’re both silent for what feels like hours. Her tears slow, and her body stops shaking. Rubbing my hand up her arm, I press a kiss to the top of her head.

“When I got home from school, I found my mom on the floor.” She straightens, and a sudden chill hits my body where she’d been resting a moment ago.

“I’m sorry.” What a lame thing to say.

“What’re you doing here?” She stands and paces toward the table in the corner that holds a coffee pot.

“Dad got his stitches out.” I watch her closely, worried she might collapse at any moment. She didn't look too good in school today—bloodshot eyes, pale complexion, movements slow, constantly yawning. I guess she’s been sleeping about as well as I have this past week.

She nods absently before turning back toward me. “You don’t have to stay. I’m fine.” She hugs herself, and I know she’s anything but fine.

I stand and approach. “I don’t mind.” She doesn’t look like she really wants to be alone, regardless of what she says.

“Really, Grayson. I’m fine. My dad will be here soon.” She averts her gaze before she even finishes speaking.

“Okay, so I’ll hang out until your dad gets here.” I shove my hands into my pockets.

“Why?”

“What?”

“Why do you want to stay? You’ve been avoiding me for a week.” Her shoulders slump, and she stares at me with a blank expression.

I sigh and drag my hand through my hair. “Because you’re clearly upset, and—”

“I’ve been upset for a week, Grayson.” Her tone is full of defeat. “Why do you suddenly care?”

“I’ve cared all week, Belle, but you hurt me, and I needed some time.” I walk back to the chair and sit with my arms on my knees. If only she knew how much I care, but how can I tell her now? She won’t believe me anyway.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” she whispers. I don’t have to look up to know she’s crying again.

“I know.” I nod and stare at my hands as if they’ll have all the answers.

She sits beside me again. “Then why are you punishing me?”

Closing my eyes against the utter pain I hear in her tone, I take a deep breath. “I’m not punishing you.” At least, I’m not trying to. Maybe I am. Part of me wants her to hurt as much as I do, but at the same time, I can’t stand to know she’s hurting—and I'm the one hurting her. “Why didn’t you stop him?”

“I did.”

“No.” I straighten and look at her. “Why didn’t you stop him before he kissed you? Did you want him to?”

She shakes her head, her eyes wide with disbelief. “I didn’t want him to kiss me. It all happened so fast. I didn’t have time to react, but as soon as the shock wore off, I pushed him away.”

I nod. Her story hasn’t changed at all, which I guess is a good thing.

“I’m sorry,” she says through more tears.

I gently wipe her tears with my thumbs. I have no doubt she’s sorry. “I need to know…if I hadn’t seen it, would you have told me?”

Belle hangs her head, and that’s all the answer I need.

“Look, I know you didn’t ask Cam to kiss you, and maybe you didn’t kiss him back, but…” I shake my head and let out a heavy sigh. “I don’t know, Belle. I believe you, and I want to forgive you, but it’s… Trust. I don’t know if I can right now. Believe me, I’ve spent all week thinking about this, praying for guidance. I just don’t know what to do.”

A nurse pops into the room. “Oh, sorry,” she says. “I didn’t realize anyone was still in here. Are you waiting to speak to a doctor?”

Isabelle stands and nods. “Yeah, my mom was brought into the ER and rushed into surgery. Miranda Carson?”

“Right, of course. I’m sorry. Let me check in and see what’s going on.” She smiles sympathetically. “I’ll be right back.”

Alone once again, Belle turns to me. Her expression is suddenly hard. “I can’t tell you what to do, but I can’t keep doing this, Grayson. I can’t keep apologizing for something I didn’t do. That’s not fair.”

I shove my hands into my pockets again and stare at the floor. She’s absolutely right. I’m holding her accountable for something she didn’t do. So, why can’t I forgive her? What’s holding me back?

“I think you should go.”

I jerk my head up. Hours ago, I would’ve done anything to avoid seeing her, but now I can’t stand the thought of walking away. Not that I have any idea what’s going on with her mom, but after the week she’s had, I can’t just leave her. “You really shouldn’t be alone right now.”

She laughs bitterly. “Why not? I’m alone all the time. Why should now be any different?”

“What?” I tilt my head.

“My dad’s not coming.”

My heart sinks. She really is alone.

“He’s in Philly for work and can’t get a flight home until tomorrow.” Her bottom lip trembles. “I don’t know why I’m surprised. He’s never home anymore.” She covers her face with her hands and cries.

Without hesitation, I pull her into my arms. There’s obviously so much going on that I don’t know about. I want to ask, but now’s not the time. She needs a friend. I contemplate calling Hannah, but selfishly, I want to be the one to comfort her.

“That night at Parker’s…” She doesn’t pull out of my embrace, and her words are muffled. “He told me he’s going to divorce Mom if she doesn’t get help.”

I rest my cheek on the top of her head, close my eyes, and hold her a little tighter.

“She’s an alcoholic. Has been since Brandon died.”

“I’m so sorry, Belle.” Not the most helpful thing to say, but I’m at a loss for words.

“I come home every day, and she’s passed out in a different room. One day I came home and found her burning all of Brandon’s stuff. Today, she was face down in her own vomit.” She finally pulls away, and her face is ghost white. “I thought she was dead.”

Everything suddenly makes sense—her refusal to invite me to her house and introduce me to her parents, her reluctance to even talk about her family.

“And for a moment, I wanted her to be dead.” She chokes out a sob. “I thought, if she’s gone, Dad will come home, and I won’t have to lie to everyone anymore. I won’t have to cook and clean and pretend everything’s perfect when it’s not. What kind of person am I?”

“Don’t.” I have to blink back the threat of tears before I can continue to talk. “You’ve been dealing with so much. It’s normal to wonder ‘what if’ and hope that things will change for the better.”

“I wished my mother was dead.” As soon as the words are out of her mouth, her eyes go wide, and she slaps her hand over her mouth. “Oh, God. Grayson. I’m so sorry. I didn’t…” She shakes her head frantically.

“It’s okay,” I say.

Before she can say anything else, the nurse reappears. “Mrs. Carson is in recovery. She’s awake but groggy. Would you like to see her?”

I can see the relief settle over Belle. She nods. “Yes, please.”

“Come with me,” the nurse says.

Belle walks out of the room without another glance in my direction. I slump into the closest chair and blow out a heavy breath. I don’t even consider calling my dad. I’m not leaving here until I see Belle again and know she’s really okay. Not to mention, I have no idea if she has a ride home. I stay put in the waiting room and lower my head in prayer.

God, please watch over Belle and her family. Help them heal and find peace. And please, help me find forgiveness and understanding.