Committed Passion Read Online Free Page B

Wyatt’s health.
    “He’s sure held on for a guy who only had a few weeks to live when he showed up,” Micah scoffed.
    “I doubt he exaggerated. Sometimes the dying process takes longer than you expect. I’ve been through it with a few clients.” Gina’s soothing voice floated from the front seat. “It can be a hard, slow disconnect.”
    “I wish I could say I’m glad to have a chance to see him one last time,” J.D. said. “But honestly, I don’t feel anything. I just want this over with.”
    I didn’t add anything. We’d had this discussion before, and there was nothing new to say. But I gave J.D.’s hand a squeeze to let him know I was with him. It was an awful, distressing situation for the Wyatt boys and also for us women who dated them. All Gina and I could offer was encouragement.
    I caught a breath before walking into the stench of disinfectant and urine that seemed to permeate even the best of nursing homes. I’d been to visit my grandma when I was a girl, so I could envision what this place looked like. J.D. didn’t grip my hand any tighter, but I still felt the tension in his body as he walked beside me and his reluctance as we entered his father’s room.
    “It’s all right,” I murmured as I rubbed my thumb over his knuckles. But it wasn’t really. How could it be when he was about to face his dying dad?
    *
    J.D.
    I didn’t realize it would be so hard when I entered the room and saw the frail man on the bed. During my tour in Afghanistan, I’d witnessed many horrors, people torn apart by bombs, a friend bleeding out beside me, destruction that would haunt my dreams for the rest of my life. I’d been imprisoned, tortured, and left in the dark wondering if I’d ever be free again. After that, how hard could it be to face one old guy lying peacefully in a hospital bed, especially since I felt little connection to him?
    As it turned out, the answer was very. I stopped in the doorway, staring at the paper-white face, the slack mouth, the barest movement of the chest beneath the covers as his breath rattled in and out, and I wanted to turn right back around and go.
    “God damn. ” Micah sounded as horrified as I felt.
    “This is normal,” Gina whispered. “It’s what the end looks like.”
    Shit. He could die right now, I realized, or maybe on Jonah’s wedding day. Maybe they should’ve postponed until after he was gone. But then, why should they? Dad could still linger for weeks, and it wasn’t as if we owed it to him to gather lovingly around his deathbed. Besides, as far as I could tell, there wasn’t anyone home in there any longer to even know we were there.
    For a few moments, we all stood silently.
    “You can talk to him,” Gina prompted. “They say hearing is the last thing to go. The sound of your voice might be comforting.”
    That was my or Micah’s cue to move even closer to the bed, maybe take his hand and say something heartfelt. I remained frozen by the doorway, but Micah approached Dad and gave him a halfhearted pat on the shoulder.
    “Hey. This is Micah. Hope you’re feeling better than you look.” He defaulted to typical Micah humor, then paused. “I mean, I hope you’re resting comfortably.  It’s been years since we spent any time around each other. I never thought of you as much more than the shitheel who left us to fend for ourselves, but…you are our father so…” He cleared his throat. “I guess I just want to say I forgive you and, uh, good luck wherever you go next.”
     He gave Dad’s shoulder a final pat, then shuffled backward. He glanced at me. My turn. I didn’t have to offer forgiveness, but it seemed I had to say something. It took every bit of courage I possessed and Leah’s presence by my side to get me to move close and take my father’s cold hand in mine. Now what?
    I’d go through the motions, do the expected thing. I didn’t have to actually feel anything about this.I pressed that bird claw gently and said, “It’s J.D.