Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 142214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 711(@200wpm)___ 569(@250wpm)___ 474(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 711(@200wpm)___ 569(@250wpm)___ 474(@300wpm)
The elevator pinged and the door opened. Soren was there, pacing the halls like a caged animal. “It’s about fucking time.”
A second set of elevators opened and Logan rushed out. They must have just missed him in the lobby. “Where is he?”
“They took him for scans.”
Wren released Greyson’s hand and he went momentarily deaf. His brothers wore matching expressions from when their mom died. Panic welled inside him as he drifted outside reality. She hugged Soren and Logan, then her hand was back in his.
Safe.
“What happened?”
Soren detailed events using words like pressure and erratic. They all knew this was coming. According to doctors, it was inevitable.
Greyson watched Wren nod, her responses genuine and unguarded. When her hand tightened around his, so did his concern. He pulled her close. Comforting her somehow eased his own fear.
They moved to a waiting room filled with blue chairs. Wren sat between him and Logan, holding both their hands. Soren paced by the door.
When more than an hour had passed, she quietly stood. He didn’t want to let her go, but couldn’t find words to call her back.
She approached Soren and pressed a gentle hand on his back, whispering something private into his brother’s ear. Mesmerized, Greyson watched as Soren fell apart, turning to Wren and hugging her tightly. Then he wiped his tears and immediately apologized. Even in crisis, Hawthorne men weren’t supposed to show emotion.
But Wren gripped his face and pressed her forehead to his. “You’re allowed to cry, Soren. He’s your father.”
His brother’s breath audibly shook. That’s what she did. She made others feel right, even when everything felt wrong.
Beside him, Logan sniffed and panic surged through Greyson.
He should bolt. He should get on the elevator, get the hell out of this hospital, and head straight for the harbor. He could get on a ship and disappear. Wren could go with him.
But she wouldn’t. She wouldn’t leave Bodhi, or The Haven, or even his brothers. She always toughed out the difficult stuff, no matter how hard things got.
“Grey?” Wren stood in front of him, hands wringing at her waist, eyes full of concern.
He blinked. Where did Logan and Soren go?
“Do you want to see him?”
He nodded but didn’t move.
“The doctor said only two at a time. We can go as soon as your brothers get back.”
The doctor? How had he missed the doctor? “Will you go with me?”
Her hand curled around his. “I’m not leaving your side.”
He planned to hold her to that promise.
She lowered to the seat beside him. “We can wait here until Soren and Logan are done.”
Greyson sat stiffly, elbows on his knees, fingers laced so tight they ached. He stared blankly at the linoleum.
Wren waited, quiet and calm, like gravity holding the room together. She rubbed his back in soothing strokes.
When the double doors opened, Greyson instinctively stood. A female doctor in a white lab coat approached. Mid-fifties. Salt at the temples. Steady eyes. Her badge read Dr. Kim – Neurology.
“Mr. Hawthorne?”
Greyson nodded.
“I’m Dr. Kim. I’ve been overseeing your father’s care since the stroke occurred this afternoon.”
Wren retrieved Logan and Soren from his father’s room. Her hand curled tightly around his as soon as she returned.
The doctor stiffly smiled in a way that brought little comfort. “I’ll start with the good news. Because your father was already admitted for pneumonia, we acted immediately and got his blood pressure down.”
Greyson only comprehended every other word as she explained what happened.
“So it was a stroke?” Soren asked.
“Yes. A mild ischemic stroke. There was a small clot in the right parietal region...”
Tightness cranked around his chest, making every breath harder.
“His heart isn’t pumping efficiently, and we’re seeing signs of progressive organ stress.”
Wren spoke for the first time. “Is there anything more you can do?”
“We can manage symptoms, continue monitoring. But I think it’s time we talk about the broader picture.”
Their words faded as Greyson stepped away.
Standing in the doorway of his father’s room, he listened as machines softly chirped. The silence between each beep hit like thunder.
“I recommend bringing in a palliative care team...”
How was this happening?
This was Magnus, their unshakable father. He was supposed to be eternal. Not weak and alone in some hospital bed.
“I’ll need a signature to move forward. Which one of you is Greyson Hawthorne?”
“Greyson?”
“Grey?”
He turned to his brothers. They looked at him as if he had answers. “What?”
Wren pulled him back into the fold. “Your father has you listed as his proxy. The doctor needs you to sign papers.”
“Why me?”
Soren walked away. Logan returned to their father’s room.
A pen and clipboard appeared in his hands. He stared blankly at the words, trusting Wren when she urged him to sign.
Logan’s voice drifted into the hall. Wren followed his stare to the elevators. “I can wait here for Logan if you want to talk to Soren.”
In that moment, he didn’t have the words to talk to anyone, but he needed to get the hell out of there. “Thanks.”