“The best thing you all can do for Milo now is go home and get some rest. It’s going to be a long, arduous recovery, and he’ll need you guys to be strong for him.”
“I’m staying,” my mom declares.
“There’s nothing you can do for him, Elena,” Jason says gently. “He’ll be in recovery for hours yet and then in the ICU, where he’ll be allowed one visitor at a time, but not until much later today. I’ll be with him, and I’ll call you if anything changes. I promise.”
Dad hugs Jason. “Thank you for saving my son’s life. We’ll never forget what you’ve done for him and us.”
“I’m glad I was here when it happened. He’s not completely out of the woods yet, Lo. I wish I could tell you he is, but I promise to tell you the truth the minute I know anything new.”
“We understand,” Dad says tearfully. “Elena, everyone, let’s go home for a while. You heard what Jason said. Our boy is going to need us, so we should rest up for him. Thank you all for being here with us and getting us through the longest night of our lives.”
As I hug my parents, sisters, cousins and grandmothers, I feel like a robot going through the motions. It should be me in that hospital bed fighting for my life and my mobility, not sweet Milo, who’s never had a bad word to say about anyone. I’m the one who’s been a dick to half the people I’ve met in my life. Where’s the justice in this?
Sofia and I walk out to my truck.
“Do you want me to drive?” she asks.
I look at her, almost as if I’ve never seen her before. Everything about my life seems unfamiliar to me this morning after a night in hell waiting to hear if my little brother was going to live or die. “No. I’ll drive.”
Out of habit, I hold the door for her, help her up into the truck and wait for her to get settled before I close the door and walk around to the driver’s side. Every step I take feels wrong now that it’s possible Milo may never walk again.
Because he was covering for me.
I knew they were watching me, and I sent him out to be nearly murdered.
I sit behind the wheel, staring straight ahead for a long time before I remember what I’m supposed to do. Turn the key. Put the truck in Reverse. Back out. Drive. Move forward. Go on with my life as if everything is normal when nothing is.
We’re parked in my driveway when I glance over at Sofia for the first time since I got in the truck and see tears rolling down her cheeks that she silently brushes away with the back of her hand. Her tears break me.
“Don’t.” My voice is gruffer and harsher than I intend. “Don’t cry.”
“Can’t seem to make it stop. I feel sick to my soul over this.”
“I’m right there with you.”
“I really think Mateo and I should go home to our place so you can give your family your full attention.”
“No.”
She turns to me, her eyes shooting fire. “You aren’t telling me what to do, are you? Because I’ll never again allow a man to decide anything for me.”
“I don’t want to decide for you. I just want to keep you and Mateo safe, which is easier to do here than at your place.”
All the fight seems to go out of her on one long exhale as she sags into her seat. “I’m sorry. That’s just an issue after what it took me to leave him.”
“I understand. I have no desire to control you. I just want you safe.”
“I don’t know what to do or say or feel. Every part of me aches for Milo and you and your family. Everyone has been so kind to me and Mateo, and now we’ve brought this to your sweet brother. I appreciate that you don’t blame me, but I’m sick over it.”
“I know you are, and of course we don’t blame you. Miguel and his people are going to arrest them and throw them in jail for the rest of their lives. If there’s any upside to this, that’s it. You won’t have to deal with him anymore, and he’ll be out of Mateo’s life, too.”
“The only thing that matters is Milo and his full recovery.”
“You matter, too. And so does Mateo.”
“I’m so, so sorry, Nico.”
“You don’t have to apologize to me.”