But to do that, he would have had to have listened to his brother’s advice.

The reality of how wrong Trez had been, for some very right reasons, was a new low for him. And considering where he had started out from? That was saying something.

Therese took a deep breath. “I need to go now. And I need you to never seek me out again. Tell your brother I’m quitting without notice—something tells me he’s going to understand exactly why—”

“Therese—”

“No!” she barked as she stamped her foot.

Then she clapped her hand over her mouth again as if she were stopping herself from either a rant or a crying jag. Or maybe both.

“Just go,” she choked out. “I’ve fallen down a deep hole and I’ve got to start getting out of it right now—”

“I wish I—”

“No,” she countered, “you don’t get to wish anything. You knew what you were doing. You knew exactly what you were doing to me. I don’t give a shit whether you’re grieving or not. It was wrong. This whole… thing was wrong.” Except then she laughed harshly. “But hey, it’s also on me. I didn’t question anything. I didn’t ask why you were pursuing me. I didn’t protect myself. And we never talked about ground rules, or whether we were in a relationship or—for fuck’s sake, we had sex a couple of times. That was it. So I need to grow the hell up.”

She said all that like she was trying to remind herself of the facts. Like she was reframing things—or trying to.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

“Okay, you can go screw yourself with that,” she snapped at him. “It’s way too late for apologies. And will you please leave? For crissakes, the only reason why you’re standing here is because you don’t want to say goodbye to someone who isn’t me anyway. You’ve done enough damage. At least have the decency to let the cleanup begin. Don’t ever contact me again.”

Trez nodded, turned away, and walked down the corridor. He had no idea where he was going. But that had been true for quite a while now.

The only thing he was certain of was that he had hurt someone he honestly did care about, and the pain he was leaving behind was all his fault. As she had said, no matter what his intentions had been, or what state he’d been in, it had been wrong.

This was an all-new low. And the only good piece to it all? At least he wasn’t suicidal.

Nope. He was not going to let himself get off easy. Selena’s death and the grief that came along with it was nothing he had created by his own actions. But his regret over what he’d done to Therese? That was completely on him, and he was going to have to live with it for the rest of his nights.

However many there were. This was his punishment.

A life sentence he was not going to easy-way-out with a dirt nap. Or a watery grave—

As his phone rang, he grabbed for the cell, some stupid idea that it could be Therese calling making him desperate. But she didn’t have his number in her old phone.

And she was not going to call him. Ever again.

It was Xhex. No doubt she had seen that he’d phoned and was hitting him back.

He didn’t answer. He had nothing to say to anybody at the moment.

God… this was just as bad as when Selena had died, he thought.

Maybe even worse.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

The next twenty-four hours in the ICU were a blessing. And a curse.

The following evening, as Therese walked into her mahmen’s patient room with a Styrofoam mug of surprisingly good coffee, she held on to the former and tried to let go of the latter. And wasn’t sure how well she did with either of those goals.

Ever since Trez had walked away when she’d told him to, she’d been in a cold meat locker, numb and removed from everyone. Because, hey, it wasn’t like she wanted to be the dimmer switch on everyone’s tentative relief at Larisse’s recovery—and for another, the relationship blowing up was nothing she had any interest in explaining.

She felt so stupid for rushing blindly into something like that. It had all felt so good, though. And he had been so—

Stop it, she told herself.

Focusing on the hospital bed, she pinned on a smile. “Good evening, Mahmen—”

“Good. Evening.”

Therese stopped right where she was. Blinked a number of times. Tried to process what she was looking at. But sometimes, in the four hours since she, Gareth, and their father had left to catch some sleep in one of the facility’s family apartments, a big change had come about.

“Mahmen? Mahmen!”

Therese rushed forward, spilling the coffee on the back of her hand and not caring. Larisse was sitting up, fully conscious… and breathing on her own.

“Mahmen!” Therese ditched the flimsy container on a rolling table, clasped the hand she had been holding for so many hours—and was surprised to feel it clasp back. “I knew they were going to take the tube out—but they did it early?”

“Yes.” That voice was raspy, but it was wonderfully familiar. “Early.”

“How are you feeling? Are you okay?” As soon as she asked the questions, she shook her head. Her mahmen was still so weak, she could barely lift her head off the pillow. “Wait, don’t strain yourself answering—”

“Good. Good. Hi… hello. I love you. Back. Glad.” Larisse was talking fast, as if she felt the need to get it all out fast. Just in case. “And I’m so sorry. I’m so very, very sorry—”

“Shhh. It’s okay.” Brushing her mahmen’s hair back, Therese lowered herself into the chair that had become her second home. “Let’s just sit together.”

“Dad… vein.”

“You took his vein? When?”

“Nurse went to get him after tube out. Stronger now.”

Therese smiled slowly. Her father must have left and then come back in while she and her brother were sleeping. “Good.”

They fell silent for a while. And then her mahmen seemed to push herself up higher on the pillows—or tried to.

“Here, let me help,” Therese said as she carefully rearranged her mahmen’s torso. “Better—”

Her mahmen’s hand squeezed hard. “Listen. Now. In case…”

“Don’t say it. You’re going to be fine. You’re going to come out of this—”

“Always felt… you were mine. Always felt…” Her mahmen touched the center of her thin chest over the hospital gown. “In my heart, mine. That’s why… never told you… never thought you hadn’t been destined to be… mine.”

Therese blinked. And swallowed hard. “Oh… Mahmen.”

“You were left… doorstep. Delivered… no idea… who? How?” Her mahmen pointed to herself. “Wanted daughter. Prayed… prayed… prayed… then? Answered.”

“Mahmen, don’t use all your strength—”

“Paperwork to protect. You. Me. Your father and brother. Make sure no one could take… my young away.”

As tears came to her eyes, Therese made soothing noises and stroked the hand that was gripping her own with such urgency. “It’s okay, Mahmen. Take a deep breath.”