renewal of the ceasefire. The horror of it all didn’t bear thinking about.
Not until he saw the injuries, assessed damage limitation, talked Adao through how he would always feel that missing arm of his, but—
Don’t go there, man. You made it. The kid’ll make it.
Hopefully he wouldn’t actively push his family away the way Finn had. If he had any leanings toward giving advice, he’d put that top of the list.
Keep those you love close to you.
Pushing them away only made the aching hole of grief that much harder to fill.
He knew that now.
Theo pulled his phone out of his pocket and thumbed through the messages. “He was meant to have been choppered in from London a couple of hours ago, right? The charity texted a while back saying something about paperwork and customs, but you’d think a boy with catastrophic injuries would outweigh a bit of petty bureaucracy.”
Finn brought his fist down on a nearby table. That sort of hold-up was unacceptable. Especially with a child’s welfare at stake.
“Hey!” Theo nodded at the table, brow creased. “You’d better apologize.”
“What?” Disbelief flashed across Finn’s features then a smile. “You want me to say sorry to the table? Sorry, table. I don’t know what got into me.” He held his hands out wide. Happy now? the gesture read.
Theo closed the handful of meters between them with a few long-legged strides, crossed his arms over his chest and looked Finn square in the eyes. “Are you all right to handle this?”
His hospital. His terms.
Fair enough.
“’Course.” Finn said. “But if you think I’m not up to it? Take me off. Bear in mind you’ll have to drag me out of here and nurse the black eyes of whoever you think can operate on Adao better than me.”
No point in saying he’d have to deliver the punches from a wheelchair if his knee carried on mimicking a welding iron.
He ground his back teeth together and waited. Theo knew as well as he did that the last thing he’d do was punch someone. But it was Theo’s hospital. Theo’s call.
Theo feigned giving Finn a quick one-two set of boxing punches, making contact with his midsection as he did.
Finn didn’t budge. He had a slight edge on Theo in height, weight and age. The Grand Poo-bah of Limb Specialists, they’d once joked.
“Look at that.” Finn’s tone was as dry as the Sahara. “I’m turning the other cheek.”
Theo widened the space between them and whistled. “Have you been working out again?”
Finn smiled. Always had. Always would.
Pushing himself to the physical limit was one of the things that kept the demons at bay.
Theo gave Finn’s shoulder a solid clap. “You’re the one I want on this. The only one.” He didn’t need to spell out to Finn how his time in the military had prepared him more than most for the injuries Adao had sustained. “Just want to make sure you’re on top form when the little guy arrives.”
“What? Nah.” Finn waved away his concerns, gritting his teeth against the grinding of his knee against his prosthesis. “I just save this curmudgeon act for you. Someone’s gotta be the grumpy old man around here.”
“I thought that was Dr. Riley.”
They both laughed. Dr. Riley had yet to be seen without an ear-to-ear grin on his face. The man had sunbeams and rainbows shooting out of his ears. The children adored him. Most people called him Dr Smiley.
Finn nodded toward the Christmas tree twinkling away in the dimly lit reception area where they stood. “A bit early, isn’t it?”
“Not if you’re Evie.”
Finn grunted. Evie was the resident Mrs. Claus around Hope Children’s Hospital. Especially now she was all loved up. Just being around her and Ryan made him...well...suffice it to say it brought up one too many memories he’d rather not confront. Love. Marriage. They’d never got as far as the baby carriage, he and Caroline. Now he supposed he never would.
Guess that made him the resident Scrooge. Not that he had anything against Christmas in particular, it was just...seeing these poor kids in hospital over the holidays always bugged him. He may not want to hang out with his own family, but he was damn sure these kids wanted nothing more than their mums and dads at the end of their beds on Christmas morning.
“Anyone else about for Adao’s arrival?”
Finn shook his head. “Not that I know about. I’ve got the usual suspects lined up for tomorrow so we can give him a proper assessment.” He listed a few names. “Right.” He clapped his hands together. “I’m going to get on up to the roof, if you don’t mind. Clear the cobwebs before Adao arrives.” He stood his ground. Theo was smart enough to take the absence of movement as his cue to leave and turned toward the bank of elevators.
“Hey,” Theo called over his shoulder as he was entering the elevator. “You know we have a team of experts who look after that sort of thing.”
Theo didn’t have to look at Finn’s knee for Finn to know what he was talking about. He knew the offer was there. He just didn’t want to take it. Pain equaled penance. And he had a helluva lot of making up to do. Parents. Brother. Ex-wife. Friends. And the list went on.
“Good to know.” He waited until the elevator doors closed before he moved.
A string of silent expletives crossed his lips as he hobbled over to a sofa, pulled up his trouser leg and undid the straps to ease the ache in his knee, not even caring when the whole contraption clattered to the floor.
One breath in...one breath out...and a silent prayer of thanks that he had this moment alone. He didn’t do weak.
Not in public anyway.
The handful of moments he’d let himself slide into self-pity over the years...those would remain buried in his chest as bitter reminders of the paths he shouldn’t have taken. The lessons he should’ve learned.
He gave his prosthesis a bit of a kick.
“It’s just you and me, mate. Guess we’d better start finding a way to make nice.”
“ARE YOU HANGING about for a meet-and-greet with Adao?”
Naomi went wide-eyed at Evie’s question. She hadn’t said anything, but that had definitely been her plan. A volley of responses ricocheted round her chest and lodged in her throat because she didn’t want Evie to hear any of them.
I know how he feels.
He’s probably as
