To some, accepting help was easy. To me, it felt like I’d failed.
I wore my independence like a badge of honor. I didn’t need anyone. Even if I suffered, I’d be okay alone.
And after how today went, I wasn’t so sure I would have been.
I heard the door open and Dean shuffled into the room. I peeked through one eye at him.
“You’re awake?” he asked as he got close.
“That might be a strong term.”
“All that matters is that you feel better.” Instead of keeping the usual distance between the two of us, his hand held mine. In my sleep-heavy mind, the physical touch was just what I needed.
I nodded. “IVs do the trick. Thanks for bringing me in. It was the right call.”
“Anytime,” he said.
The door opened again and Henry walked in. Dean’s hand loosened, but I gripped harder. If I were in my right mind, I’d know that Dean wouldn’t want Henry to see anything. I’d let him pull away. But Dean’s hand was warm and I wanted it there.
And when he didn’t fight me, I felt like I’d won the lottery.
“Dean has notes just in case anything else happens, but Iwill say to both of you that if this happens again, I recommend you go to a hospital.”
Dean’s eyes met mine. I had no doubts that if it did start again, he would be on top of getting me where I needed to go.
I nodded. “Will do, thank you, Henry.”
“Feel better,” he said. “And good luck with everything.”
When Henry had moved into town, some people were put off by his professionalism. But in this moment, it was one of the greatest things I’d ever seen. He could have grilled me or Dean for a ton of information, but it seemed like he was most focused on making sure I was okay.
Wren had gotten so lucky. Mollie too. They’d paired off with perfect men. I didn’t think it was possible for guys to have so many green flags. Dean had a lot too.
If only he were emotionally available.
Despite my mortification and despite me trying to fight him on all of his help, I enjoyed every second of having him around. I hadn’t realized how much loneliness had crept up on me over the years.
I supposed I should have been happy that I had a friendship with Dean. That might be all it stayed, but it was nice.
But I was at that part of being sick where I only felt sad for myself. The exhaustion was hitting me full force, and even though I wasn’t throwing up anymore, I didn’t feel like myself. I felt like a little kid again, back before I realized I needed to handle things on my own. I used to crawl into bed with Mom every single time I got sick. I’d want someone to hold me and tell me that it would be okay. Eventually, I got over that need. Except in moments like these.
Dean helped me to the truck, and I let him carry some of my weight. Now that it was over, I realized just how bad that could have been. I’d been so worried about trying to appear like I was fine that I let something go that could have been verydangerous.
This independence mixed with people-pleasing was only hurting me.
“I’m sorry that I fought you on bringing me here.” I said it when he’d gotten into the truck.
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not. I should have listened. You have every right to be pissed at me, for that, and for making you hold my hand in front of Henry. I’m sure you didn’t want him to see that.”
Dean was quiet for a second and then I heard him huff out a breath of air. “Grace, you need to know that I’m never gonna stay mad at you for long. You’re okay and the baby’s okay. That’s all I care about. And whatever Henry saw, Henry saw. You were sick. It’s okay to want to hold someone’s hand when you’re sick.” He reached over to brush a curl off of my cheek, and just that little touch almost sent me clinging to him. “Rest on the way home. I’ve got it from here.”
All I could do was nod and lean against the window. What had I done to deserve a man like this?
As my eyes closed, I listened to the sound of his breathing. Just that was more comforting than being alone.
Was that what things around Dean had started to feel like? Comforting?