Have Hope

Understand

Although Hope is my primary concern at any given moment, I couldn't help but be worried about Andrew right now too. He had run off about 15 minutes ago and no one has heard anything from him. Brennan tried calling him, but he didn't answer.

I excused myself from the waiting room and dialed the one person who has been by Andrew's side since the very beginning of all his toughest times — Dylan.

"What's up, Helaina?"

"Are you busy?"

"Never too busy for you. Kaden and I are just playing some video games, why?"

I quickly explained the situation to Dylan, including Hope falling and me yelling at him and blaming it on him. "Can you just find him please? I want to make sure he's okay."

"You want to make sure he's not drinking," Dylan corrected me. I could already hear movement in the background. "Of course, I'm on it. I'll find him, okay? Don't worry about it."

He could tell me to not worry about it, but it doesn't change anything. I'm still here, I'm still worrying. Now I have Hope and him to worry about.

If Andrew goes and drinks right now, I don't know what I'd do with myself. It'd be my fault for blowing up on him. I told him I'd help him through his recovery process, yet I just make it more difficult for him.

"Ms. Brooks," Dr. Woodson called my name out as she entered the waiting room. "Hope's stitches are finished, if you would like to come back. Everything went really well, no complications."

I let out a huge sigh of relief, knowing she is okay. Obviously I knew she would be just fine, it was a deep cut in her forehead that required a few stitches. The accident itself was just a freak accident that could've happened under my care or Brennan's, or anyone's. It's not like Andrew expected she'd lose her balance and fall forward. The insane momma-bear in me came out and attacked Andrew when it was completely uncalled for.

I followed Dr. Woodson into Hope's hospital room, where she was laying quietly in a bed, with walls on the sides to prevent her from rolling off. She was sound asleep and looked peaceful, despite the blatant stitches on her forehead. My baby girl is strong, though, so I know she will be just fine. The doctor left Hope and I alone, so I sat in the chair next to her bed and put my phone out on the table next to her, in case Dylan or Andrew called.

I ran my hand through her little head of hair and smiled softly.

A soft knock sounded on the already slightly ajar door. I looked over my shoulder to see who it could be, considering Hope has a long list of admirers and it could literally be anyone. I was pleased to see Andrew standing in the doorway with his hand scratching the back of his neck nervously. In this moment, for some reason, it felt like we were 16 and in mutual love again. The way his hair was a mess on top of his head simply because he refused to brush it and refused to get it cut, the way his big blue eyes sparkled from across the room even when they are surrounded by black circles on the outsides from lack of sleep, the way he forced a small, sheepish smile on his lips when he saw me.