Wanting You Always (The Always Series Book 1) by Lizzie Morton

Author:Lizzie Morton [Morton, Lizzie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-11-30T00:00:00+00:00

Nineteen

Sophie

What the hell was I thinking?

I can’t care for a child.

I can barely care for myself.

My big toe, spouting blood over the new flooring in Sam’s—or should I say our—apartment is evidence of that.

It’s already Wednesday. After a frantic two hungover days of packing, then unpacking, there’s less than ten minutes until Russ is due to arrive with Elayne. I’m one hundred percent certain I’m going to puke from nerves and the sticky red liquid following me around isn’t helping matters.

Grabbing my phone, I raise it to my ear when I find who I need. There are a couple of seconds worth of ringing before the call connects.

“Hale! Get here!”

I hold the phone away from my face, out of fear of an eardrum being burst.

“Grams it’s me,” I call into it, knowing that no matter how loud I shout, she won’t be able to hear me any better, because she always manages to turn the volume on hers right down, despite the fact she can barely turn it on.

“Hale! It’s been bleeping again.”

I hear my older brother grumbling in the background and then his voice becomes clear.

“That’s because Sophie’s called you.”

“It stopped though.”

“Because you answered.” I picture him shaking his head and the humor of the moment helps me forget what’s about to happen and why I need Grams to get her urgency on and actually speak to me, not Hale. “Ow! That hurt.”

“Then don’t roll your eyes at me. How do I hear her?”

“You don’t turn it down for one,” he answers. “Ow! Stop poking me.”

“Guys!” I call.

“Was that her?”

“Yes, Grams,” Hale sighs. He must be holding the phone to his ear, because his voice gets louder. “Hey. Putting Grams on now. Please, don’t call again if she hangs up. I’m busy.”

So much for sibling support.

“Sophie?” says Grams a couple of seconds later.

Her voice sounds more distant than Hale’s and I know it will be because she’s holding the phone a safe distance from her face. She has a habit of hanging up mid-call with her cheek.

“Grams, I don’t know if I can do this,” I say, getting straight to the point as we don’t have much time.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she scoffs. “Of course, you can do this.”

“Grams, I’m bleeding.”

“Are you dying?” she asks, with no concern whatsoever in her voice.

I glance at my minor injury and quickly assess. “No. I ran over my toe with the vacuum.”

“Then you will be fine.” There’s clattering in the background that sounds like stainless steel against porcelain.

“What are you doing? Are you even listening to me?”

“I’m making a snack,” she states, as if it’s obvious, forgetting I can’t see her through the phone. Technically, I could if I wanted, but we tried video calling once and I spent the whole time staring at the wall after she flipped the camera and couldn’t get it back to its original setting.

“Grams! Russ is going to be here in,”—I pull my phone away and check the time, wishing I hadn’t—“Less than five minutes. Can you not hold off?” I gulp.

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