Traveling was what I loved.

I never saved anything for the long run. I didn’t go to college. I couldn’t afford it back then anyway, and why waste my life sitting in a room working on a degree when I’d die before I’d get to use it?

I didn’t watch my cholesterol or exercise. I didn’t worry about where I’d be in ten years. I made long-term plans for my family, not myself. But I did plan for this.

Back when I’d started my quest to travel the globe, I’d researched all the best cities in the world for wheelchair users. And in all my journeys, I didn’t visit a single one. Barcelona, Vienna, Singapore, Sydney, Berlin—these were my things to look forward to. To keep living a life worth living and having new adventures for as long as possible. I’d squeeze every drop of happiness from my time on this Earth. I’d cherish every second.

Especially now that the seconds were likely running out.

* * *

Dinner was amazing. For the first time in longer than I could recall, I didn’t feel worried or angry or resentful toward my dad. I just got to enjoy him. I got to hear him tell his funny stories and laugh and remember how charming he could be. And the best thing of all was that Adrian saw it too. I could tell. Dad would say something witty and Adrian would look over at me and I’d see it in his eyes. It was like taking someone to a magical place from your childhood and having them see all the same wonder that you did once, even though it didn’t hold the same power over them. And I couldn’t explain how precious this was to me.

I wanted to be proud of Dad. And there was nobody in the world that I wanted to feel that way in front of more than Adrian.

He was so normal and grounded and had all his shit together, and I was like one five-alarm fire after another. Debris in a cyclone of chaos. I knew he liked to hang out with me because I was fun—and I really tried to stay fun in front of him. But the more time he spent with me, the more he saw. And most of what he saw was just sad. To share and celebrate some normality felt like a gift.

After dinner Adrian stood shoulder to shoulder with me, helping with dishes. Dad and Sonja had cooked, so we cleaned. They were in the living room with Joel and Brent—who didn’t do anything to earn the right to relax, but that was typical.

Adrian looked over at me. “You should be really proud of what he’s done here,” he said quietly.

I nodded. “I am.”

It wasn’t the whole house. My old room was still home to half a dozen bikes that Dad had insisted he keep and sell. And the upstairs hadn’t been touched yet. But the progress was beyond encouraging.

Sonja had explained to us that the process of cleaning the house was bigger than just getting rid of things. It was helping Dad understand why he felt like he had to acquire them in the first place. Her plan of attack wasn’t just to clean up. It was for him to relearn behaviors and find other ways to cope with the stresses that caused the compulsion to begin with. And one of the core aspects of that was him finding a different job. One that didn’t require him to collect things for a living. She didn’t have to tell me that was a slippery slope, I’d seen it with my own eyes. Dad was looking for accounting work again. He had an interview on Monday.

I dried a plate and set it on the counter. “You know, this wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t recommended Sonja.”

She had clearly been the catalyst for this life-altering change in Dad. But Adrian was the reason Sonja was here.

He made me feel like I had a partner. Like I didn’t have to be the one to always figure things out and know what to do—and I always had to be the one to figure things out and know what to do. Even with Grace he’d picked up the load. It was like she belonged to both of us now. We coparented her, and it all just happened so naturally and effortlessly.

I’d meant what I said yesterday at his office: I had lots of friends. But they didn’t know me like Adrian did. Nobody did. Drake knew the stories I told him. I was always honest with him and we talked about everything. But it was different from living them alongside me like Adrian did. Telling someone about Dad’s house was different from going there with me to rescue him from under an armoire.

There was something eternally endearing about a person who could see what Adrian had seen and not run or judge you. It made me feel safe and stable. Like I’d been drifting in the wind and I’d found a strong, deep-rooted tree to perch on and take sanctuary in. I felt like I could be any level of fucked up or crazy and he’d still be there, holding me.

We finished the dishes and headed into the living room. Adrian excused himself and went to the bathroom. The second we were alone, Dad started in on me. “So, how’s it going with the lawyer?” He bounced his bushy eyebrows.

Of course. It was only a matter of time.

I shook my head. “We’re just friends, Dad,” I said quietly.

He barked out a laugh. “You’re kidding me, right?” He leaned forward conspiratorially. “The man is besotted. Look at him,” he whispered.

Sonja smiled into her coffee cup and Joel nodded.

“He can’t keep his eyes off you,” Brent whispered. “It’s been like watching a tennis match all night—his head going this way, that way, watching you walk around.”

I scoffed. “He is not watching me.”

Dad shook his head. “You’d have to be blind to not see it. Please tell me that I didn’t raise a daughter this obtuse.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, but I didn’t have a chance to reply because Adrian came back down the hall.

Dad smiled theatrically. “We should probably wrap up tonight’s activities. I’m sure this strapping young gentleman has a romantic evening planned.”

I rolled my eyes and shared a look with Adrian. He just smiled.

“We probably should get going. I don’t want to leave Grace longer than we need to,” I said, pulling my vibrating cell phone out of my pocket. I didn’t recognize the number, but it was local so I swiped up to answer the call. “Hello?”

I sat there listening to what I was being told on the other end of the line.

My heart sank.

It was a police officer calling from a hospital.

My sister was in surgery.

She’d been shot.

CHAPTER 15

THE DOCTOR COMES OUT