Promised (The Promised Series)

They moved Dani to a room so hopefully we’ll be able to see Lil Wyn soon.” He stands and holds out his weathered hand to help me up. Hand in hand, we make our way back into the hospital. And I don’t leave Dani’s side again until Adam arrives three and a half hours later.
    A week later, Alana Arwyn Scott is released from the hospital with a clean bill of health, weighing in at five pounds three ounces and measuring seventeen and a half inches. With her head full of red hair, just like her momma’s, and blue eyes, just like her daddy’s. She leaves wearing a pale pink dress I gave her. For everyone else, it’s a happy moment. But for me, it’s bitter sweet. I’m happy knowing my niece is healthy and I’ll be in her life, but I’m sad knowing that being in her life means I won’t be in Linc’s.
    Now all I have to do is break the news to him. He’ll never forgive me for pushing him away again. Not that it should matter since doing so means I’m giving into a future with Shay, but still, I hate it.

Chapter 27 – Linc
    ~The Last Piece~
    Wyn hasn’t been at school for a week because she’s been at the hospital with her family keeping an eye on the baby. I’ve talked to her through texts and something didn’t seem right, but I chalked that up to her being worried about her niece. But last night, she called me to tell me the baby was being released and asked if we could get away and go to the cabin today. I want to believe she needs to get away for the day because of the week she’s had, but my gut is telling me it’s something else. Something I don’t want to put words to because my heart can’t handle it.
    She meets me at my house and we take the Challenger. She holds my hand the whole way there and when I talk to her, she responds, but I can tell her head is somewhere else. I don’t ask where because I know before the day is through I’ll find out.
    At the cabin, we unload our supplies from the trunk: a picnic basket, a throw blanket, and fishing supplies. It’s unusually warm for a late April day and I thought I’d take advantage of it by introducing Wyn to something she’s never done before, but mentioned she’d like to try. Wyn takes the throw and basket and I carry the poles and tackle box. Together, we walk down to the lake and set up on the bank.
    I prepare the poles and teach her how to cast them out. She gets hers caught in the reeds the first try. But on the second, she does a beautiful cast that reaches the middle of the lake. She looks at me with pride in her eyes and a genuine smile on her face. That smile erases some of the worry that’s pooling in my stomach, but not all.
    The lines in the water, she focuses on laying out the blanket and our picnic. There’s leftover fried chicken my mom made the night before, homemade mac n’ cheese, biscuits, apples and strawberries with chocolate dipping sauce for dessert, and a thermos of sweet tea. We tuck into the food and when both of our bellies are beyond full, we lay back on the blanket and watch the clouds, listening for any movement on the lines.
    Still looking up at the sky, she threads her fingers through mine. “Thank you for bringing me up here today. I needed this.”
    “I’d do anything to put that smile on your face.” I tell her, bringing our joined hands to my lips and kissing them.
    “I know.” Is her only response and I note how sad it sounds. I’m gathering the courage to ask her what’s wrong when I hear her pole clicking.
    “You got a bite.” I jump up, grab the pole, and hook the fish. “Come here and you can reel it in.”
    She’s standing a few feet away from me with a look of fear. She waves her hand in my direction. “Oh, no. You’ve got it so go ahead.”
    I suppress my laugh and urge her. “Come here, Wyn. I’ll be right here to help you.”
    “Fine.” She huffs and comes over. I guide the pole into her hands and show her what to do. I stand at her back with my hands on her waist while she wrestles the fish in. When it’s close to the bank, I grab the fishing net and scoop it out of the water. She drops the pole and squeals. “I really did it!”
    Removing the hook from the fish’s mouth I tell her. “I knew you could.” Then I look up at her with my grin in place and ask. “You want to hold him so I can take your picture?”
    She scrunches up her nose in disgust and asks. “Can I kneel beside it instead?”
    “Yeah. Get down here and I’ll get my phone.” I tell her, not even