“Yeah.” When they arrived at the physical therapy department, Tom raised his right arm slowly, waggling his fingers in her direction.

Curious, Erin stepped around to the front of the chair and squatted down so she could see him, noting the slight sag on the left side of his mouth.

“Don’t do what you do with this guy.”

“What do I do?” Erin asked, genuinely baffled.

“Sabotage.” He held out his hand to her. “Remember that nice guy Dave? We liked him. You liked him. He liked you—a lot. But what did you do when it started getting serious? Took a job two hours away, which put a damper on the relationship. Then there was Miles. He was a good guy, too, until he invited you to meet his family. Remember what happened then?”

Astounded by his recall and the point he was trying to make, Erin nodded. She remembered all too well. For a guy who was recovering from brain surgery, he was awfully sharp.

“You broke up with him because you weren’t looking for anything serious—and meeting his family smacked of serious. Don’t do that this time, Er Bear. Mom and I aren’t going to live forever. I don’t want you to be alone in this world when we’re gone.”

“Don’t say that. You’re not going anywhere.”

“Not any time soon, but eventually we are. You’ve got a wonderful guy who’s crazy about you. Take a chance. Your brother wouldn’t want you hiding out in fear of losing someone else. He’d want you to live as fully as you possibly can.”

“I’m not doing that. I’m not hiding out.”

He raised a brow. “No? Sure seems that way to me sometimes.”

“How long have you been wanting to say these things?”

“Long time. Something about having your head nearly explode puts things into perspective. No time like the present to see my little girl happy. No one deserves it more than she does.”

Erin laughed and wiped away tears. “I’m so glad you didn’t die, Dad.”

“Me, too. I still want to walk my daughter down the aisle someday. It’s on my bucket list.”

She stood to hug him, holding on tight to one of her anchors. They’d been through the hell of losing Toby together and had survived, somehow.

The door to PT swung open. “Mr. Barton? We’re ready whenever you are.”

“Two hours of torture,” Tom whispered to Erin.

“Do what they tell you so we can get you out of here.” He was making such great progress that they were now thinking he’d be able to go right home rather than to rehab, which had been huge news earlier in the day.