"You couldn't have predicted a car accident," Brynn said gently.
"I should have been more careful. Should have..." Damon stopped, unable to form coherent sentences.
Eve moved to him, taking his hand. "This isn't your fault."
But Damon couldn't accept that. Couldn't let go of the guilt that was clawing up his throat.
Because this was the pattern, wasn't it? He held everything together. He kept everyone safe. He made sure nothing fell apart.
And when things fell apart anyway....because sometimes they did, sometimes fate didn't care about his careful planning, it meant he'd failed.
The waiting was torture.
Damon sat in the medical wing's family room, unable to relax, unable to accept comfort. His brothers tried. Eve tried. But Damon couldn't let them help because if he let go of holding everything together, what would happen?
Three hours later, the doctor emerged.
