Rewrite the Stars by Christina Consolino (classic fiction TXT) 📗

not be the same as it used to be, but I certainly didn’t want to live in a world void of all things Theo, especially Theo, the person.

The door squeaked, and a rush of stale hospital air came into the room with Andrew; he shut it behind him, saying nothing as he looked my way. He pulled a chair over and lined it up with mine. His voice did not disturb the silence until I turned toward him, as if my movement acknowledged his existence and gave him permission to speak.

“Hey. Anything I can do? Anything at all?”

Andrew had already done so much. Brooke had told me a few weeks prior that Andrew had been stopping by the house when I was at the hospital, helping with the kids by taking them to the indoor playground or seeing that the homework was getting done before I got home. He’d been careful to explain his presence, reminding the kids he knew both their mom and dad and wanted to be helpful, to do something nice for the family, because we needed a little help.

“It’s obvious the kids enjoy his company and they love his kids. They’ve taken in the two new playmates almost as if...as if they’re siblings,” Brooke had said.

I had recoiled at her words. She didn’t outwardly admit to acknowledging my feelings for Andrew, but her insightful comment said a lot about a potential future. Approaching this subject with Andrew before now might have been the smart thing to do, but dammit, I was tired. Too tired to mess with a good thing.

But the time had come to pull myself out of the mud pit of my thoughts.

“Sadie?” Andrew tried again.

“Yeah, sorry. I was off in space.” I drew my right leg up toward my chest and hooked my arms around it, securing my body to the chair. Every inch of me craved restraint, something to anchor me to the place, as I was so close to trying to escape my life again.

Andrew leaned in and placed a hand to my face, which caused me to turn my head toward him. His warm fingers gave energy to my cool cheeks, but I wasn’t sure how to interpret the gesture.

“What’s wrong?” A look of concern clouded his eyes.

So many thoughts lined up, one behind the other. My conversation with Mom or thoughts about Theo. And the possible future—it weighed heavily on my mind.

“How did you meet Theo? And did you know he was connected to me?” Life had moved forward, and I hadn’t thought to ask for more details before.

Andrew drew back in his seat. “We met at the gym and hit it off. I’d see him a couple times a week, text every so often. We’ve even met at the Kennedy Grill a time or two. But I swear I had no idea he was part of your life.”

“And when he knocked on your mom’s door and punched you, why didn’t you call me? I texted you.”

Andrew inhaled and looked away. “I was embarrassed. We were friends, almost. But had I realized he was hung up on you, well, I’d have walked away.”

“And now? What about now? What are your motives—”

Andrew narrowed his eyes and lowered his voice. “My motives? What are you talking about?”

The din of the hospital rang in the background, grinding into my head. “Sorry, sorry. That came out a bit...not how I intended. But you’ve been coming over to my house, taking care of my kids...”

Frustration flared in Andrew’s eyes. “I’m just trying to help. I run my own business, and I have the time to help. Plus, I like kids. I like Theo. I like you.”

“Ditto. Is that a problem?”

“Is it?”

The next words to come out of my mouth would make all the difference. My breath hitched as I stumbled over them. “Remember when you said that bit about us being right, but it wasn’t the right time? Theo is barely holding onto life in there, and I...he’s not what he used to be to me but...that’s what I need to concentrate on, okay?”

Andrew’s thumb traced the line of my jaw. “Okay. I can’t imagine how difficult this is for you, and that’s the truth. I want to help and dealing with the kids is the one thing I can do to help you. You should be here with Theo.”

“Do you mean it?”

“I do,” he said, his face stoic and serene, in sharp contrast to my inner turmoil and the bustling of the hospital staff out in the hallways.

Andrew’s lack of emotion cut into my heart and soul, but I believed what he said. After all these months, it wasn’t just attraction that connected us. He was my friend, a good friend. And he’d be more, if I said the word. I owed him something, didn’t I? A word or two, an explanation?

“I hadn’t planned this, Andrew. My world turned upside down the day we met at the store. Do you realize that?” My hands shook as the moment in June, only half a year earlier, flickered in my mind. “A simple conversation in a grocery store line busted up the life I thought I had, the life I thought I was content with.” I placed my hand on Andrew’s arm and lowered my voice level. “Let’s be clear here. I’m not blaming you at all. But I am saying all that has happened since then, our frequent encounters, our texts, our learning about one another, our admissions, realizing my situation isn’t quite working for me, the fact that I have wanted you through all that...everything has led me to the conclusion I need to be accountable for my life, but also that I...I am one fucked-up woman.”

Andrew opened his mouth to say something, but I held up my hand to stop him. I had to be selfish, to let the words flow, to find a cathartic release in the moment lingering with the near silence. He sat there, almost still, dropping his hand