‘We all want you to stay. We need you, Doc. But most of all, Flynn needs you. And I think you need him. Whatever is going on with you and Chandra and your house burning down and Bob Thompson and Doc Simpson being arseholes, none of it matters in the face of that. I didn’t realise that until I faced up to how I felt about Nat. Not that the shit just magically went away. I had to work to make that happen, and still do the work every day. But loving Nat and her loving me, it all makes it worthwhile. I want that for Flynn. I think you can give that to him. I think you can be the person he turns to when everything else is shit and who lifts him up. Because I know he’ll do that for you too. He can’t do anything else. He’s a Findlay.’
Her heart thumped hard in her chest, her breathing coming a little faster as his words pressed into her, pushed her, pulled her. To belong in the way he was talking about. To have a place where you fit and everything was finally right and whole. It was what she’d had with her mum and dad. What she’d been searching for all these years while thinking she was searching for something else. The longing was a sob not just in her chest, but in her entire body. But no matter how much she wanted to fall into that longing, to give into its hypnotic pull, to wish to have for herself what Flynn and Barb and Reid and Nat and all the folks at CoalCliff had—a family, belonging—she couldn’t be a part of it. Not unless Flynn accepted what was between them. On the drive from the fire to here, she’d been a little hopeful that maybe he would, but maybe that was her being delusional. There was so much to get past, not to mention her marriage to Chandra. She’d promised to protect his secret for as long as he wanted it to be protected. Asking for a divorce might break that promise. Chandra certainly thought so, and she couldn’t do that to him.
She couldn’t say what Reid wanted her to say. There was too much in the way. Wasn’t there? ‘Right now, all I can promise is to get him through this.’
His gaze held hers and then he nodded. ‘Right now, that will have to do.’
They worked together, swishing water over Flynn in silence. After a moment she checked his pulse, felt his skin. ‘His pulse is better and he seems to be cooling down. Although, some ice will help.’
A door slammed on the outside of the house. ‘That will be Nat with the ice.’
Barb came bustling into the bathroom, Nat hot on her heals, with the fluids and ice and—heaven sent—a saline bag and drip. Nat had thought to go and grab it from Reid and Flynn’s stores. Clicking over into full doctor mode, Prita instructed all of them in what they needed to do for the care of her patient.
She was in the middle of setting up the drip on the pole while Nat and Reid helped Flynn to sit up enough to sip on the juice Barb had brought him, when the bathroom door crashed open, and with a cry, Aaron rushed in.
‘Dad!’
Reid jumped up and grabbed Aaron before he could launch himself into the bath with his dad, grabbing him around his middle, careful of his sore shoulder even in the moment of panic. ‘Woah, A-man. Slow down.’
‘Dad’s hurt. Is he dead?’
‘Oh god.’ Nat knelt down in front of Aaron, taking his face in her hands. ‘No, no. He’s fine. Just a little banged up is all.’
‘But I heard that Chandra bloke tell Gran that Dad was raving about fallen branches and was in a bad way and I thought maybe he was like Mummy and wasn’t going to come back … come back … to me.’
The last words were gulped out over sobs, almost unrecognisable as words, but the weight of them sank into Prita’s chest, making it hard to breathe, making her stop, as if the breath of the world was held. Then sound and movement rushed in and Aaron was enveloped in a careful three-way hug from his Uncle Reid, Aunty Nat and his gran. Behind them, Carter and Tilly and Diarmuid appeared in the doorway.
‘Sorry. I was trying to keep them occupied,’ Diarmuid said, ‘but he slipped away. These two were sure he would come here, so we followed to see if we could help.’
‘It’s fine,’ Prita said, just glad to clap eyes on Carter and see that he was fine.
‘Is Uncle Flynn okay?’ Tilly asked, her voice high pitched and full of tears.
‘I’m okay. I’m okay.’
Prita jumped as Flynn’s voice sounded too close to her ear, water slopping against the side of the bath as Flynn pushed himself upright, his hot gaze fixed on his son as he tried to rise. ‘Oh no you don’t,’ she said, hands plastered on his chest as she forced him to lie back down in the bath. Thankfully, she hadn’t yet inserted the canula otherwise he would have made a right mess of his arm with the way he’d pulled himself forward.
‘A-man.’ He held his hand out to his son. ‘I’m okay. See?’
‘Daddy.’ Reid and Nat and Barb let Aaron go but instead of rushing forward, he took a couple of hesitant steps. ‘Are you really okay, Daddy?’
‘I’m fine,’ Flynn said, his voice weak and husky, but his eyes bright as they stayed fixed on his son. ‘Come see.’
‘Why are you in the bath?’
Flynn swallowed hard, licking his lips. She lifted the
