by Blair, E. K.
I don’t even realize that my mother is no longer talking with the doctor when she asks me, “Would you like a moment alone with him?”
I nod, and she slowly steps out of the room. The doctor is checking a couple of the machines, and I find myself asking, “What happened to him?”
The older gentleman turns to me with a kind smile on his lips, and I read the name Dr. Guerrero, which is embroidered on the chest of his white coat.
“He suffered a gunshot wound to the neck, which hit a major artery,” he tells me, sinking me deeper into my shock. “He suffered extensive blood loss, but we were able to stop the bleeding with the surgery. Because his blood pressure dropped so low, he’s now in renal failure, and we have him on dialysis.”
“Is he going to wake up?”
“Right now, we have him in a medically induced coma until we can get things under control. At this time, we’re unable to explore if there’s any neurological damage.”
“Is he going to die?”
“That I can’t say, but we’re doing everything we can,” he tells me, thickening the knot lodged in my throat. “The first few days are the most critical.”
His words spear a dagger right through my heart, inflicting a pain so unimaginable it renders me silent as I endure its torture. It bleeds freely, dropping acid into the pit of my stomach, doubling me over in agony. I beg to cry, but I can’t, so I beg harder because it’s too much to hold in—the utter heartbreak of knowing I could lose my dad.
Bones weep, muscles scream, veins rip open, and I beg for mercy, but none finds me as I lay my head on the edge of his bed. I want to touch him, hold him, trade places with him because I can’t imagine living in a world where he doesn’t exist.
Blades slash through my soul, and as I pray I also question the faith of it all. I offer everything I can as I plead for any semblance of grace.
Just don’t take him away from me.
“Honey.” My mother’s voice filters in through my panicked thoughts. Her hand comes to stroke my hair, and the simple touch makes me feel like a little girl again. Unlike when I was little, her touch isn’t able to knit together my broken pieces when life tears me apart. “We just have to pray harder than ever right now.” She’s weeping, and I nod against the bed.
I don’t want to look up, and I don’t want to open my eyes to this nightmare. As long as they’re closed, it doesn’t exist, right?
Fables and fairy tales have me wishing for magic. I’m so desperate, but desperation only breeds more sadness, which remains trapped under my ribs.
My mom stands over me as she continues to smooth my hair and rub my back, and I fold into her. Neither one of us says anything as she consoles me, and after a while, a nurse brings in an extra chair for my mom. I sit with her as she weeps off and on while nurses periodically check on him. The two of us are so distraught that it’s easier to remain silent, so that’s what we do.
There’s no concept of time as I stare at my dad. I’ve been locked on him for so long that my tired eyes have skewed him beyond focus.
“You look like you’re about to fall asleep,” my mother murmurs as she runs her hand down the length of my arm.
I take a slow blink. “What time is it?”
“A little after midnight,” she tells me. “Why don’t you try to get some rest. I’ll call you if there are any changes.”
“Are you sure?”
Her smile is weak as she nods.
The two of us stand, and I fall into her arms when she embraces me, but it does nothing to lessen the anguish. Now that I’m out of my daze, reality hits again. Each second I’m in this room, the pressure in my chest builds, and I can’t take it anymore.
When I step away, she looks into my eyes. “Are you okay?”
I shrug, not knowing how I’m supposed to answer a question like that.
“Are you coming home too?”
She shakes her head. “I think I’ll stay here just in case.” A fresh slew of tears make their way down her face. “I can’t leave him.”
The misery inside me creeps up to the surface, but I’m too terrified to let it out, too scared to endure its pain. Quickly, I say my goodbye and duck out of the room.
As I walk down the stretch of hallway, I grow weaker and weaker, so I walk faster, needing to get the hell out of here. Before I know it, I’m jogging to hit the button on the wall that opens the doors. My head fogs as the heat of my unshed tears prick the backs of my eyes. I run to the elevator and start punching the button over and over and over and—
“Hey.”
Trent’s voice startles me, and I can’t believe it slipped my mind that he was here.
“Are you okay?”
“I just want to go home,” I tell him, and I see a hint of relief wash over him when he hears me speak.
He tucks me under his arm as we wait for the elevator to arrive, and I’m forced to hide inside myself again when I start feeling too much.
I don’t recall the drive from the hospital to the house, and when we walk inside, Trent starts turning on the lights. It’s late, and even though I took a shower back at his place earlier, I feel the need for another—maybe I simply need the space.
“I’m going to go get ready for bed.”
“Is your mom coming home?”
“No. She’s staying the night at the hospital,” I tell him before I head toward the steps.
“I’ll go get our bags.”
Walking into my dark bedroom, I start peeling off my clothes, dropping them on the floor behind me as I go into the bathroom and straight into the shower. I wait for the water to warm up before I step under the spray, and then I move the lever to make it even hotter. It pelts my body, turning it red in its wake. The heat bites my flesh, but it still isn’t hot enough, so I push the handle even farther until my skin is burning and stinging, but there’s something about the external pain that allows me let go of the internal. Like a hundred paper cuts on the delicate tissue of my heart, I finally give in as the first tear slips down my cheek, melding with the water to create rivers. They stream down my face as I brace my hands against the wall, hang my head, and break down.
I’m quiet at first, but soon, my cries turn into harrowing sobs. The shower is thick with steam, but the scalding isn’t enough. Fisting my hands, I rest my head against them, thumping it against my knuckles a few times before slacking against the wall. I cry out, hoping my wailing will wake me from this nightmare, but I’m trapped. There’s no escaping this.
A rush of cold air cuts through the steamy fog, and when I look up, I see Trent step into the shower fully clothed. “Christ, that’s hot,” he bites as he quickly turns the heat down right before grabbing me and pulling into an embrace so fierce I swear I feel every single muscle in his body flexing around me.
Pressing my head against the wet cotton of his T-shirt, I crumble completely. My cries are ugly, but he never wavers as he holds me. I fist his soaking shirt in my hands and cling to him, needy for him to fix this, to make it all better—to tell me this is a sick joke and that it isn’t real.
Instead, he stands as a pillar of strength while I drain myself to the point my voice goes hoarse and I have nothing left in me. Trent shuts off the water, opens the shower door, and grabs a towel to wrap around me. He rips off his drenched clothes and slings them on to the shower floor before securing a towel around his waist. When I step out, he holds me once again, pressing his hands along my body to warm me when I start to shiver.
“I’ll be right back,” he says before going into my bedroom, returning a moment later with pajamas from my suitcase.
Weak and exhausted, I drop the towel, and he helps me get dressed and into bed. With a heart heavier than it should ever be, I curl into his arms as he combs his fingers through my wet hair, whispering, “It’s going to be okay.”
“What if it isn’t?”
“Then I’ll be here with you to help you through it.”
Closing my eyes, a few more tears spill out.
> “I’m not going anywhere, all right?”
I nod against him, and he tugs me even closer, the warmth of his body seeping into mine. And even though he has me pressed flush to his body, it isn’t close enough. My neediness overwhelms, eventually bringing me to tears again, because what if he isn’t holding on to me tight enough and I slip away?
“I’ve got you, babe.”
“Don’t let go, okay?”
“I won’t,” he assures before dropping kisses into my hair, and not once does he loosen his grip on me as I cry myself to sleep.
TRENT
There’s a crick in my neck from sitting in this chair for the last few hours. A burn slices its way down to my shoulder blades when I pull my head away from the wall behind me and look down at Kate.
She woke me up in the early hours of the morning, crying and asking if I would bring her back to hospital so she could be with her mom. Since visiting hours were over and only her mom was allowed back in ICU with her dad, we sat in the waiting room. After a bit, she stretched out across a few chairs, rested her head in my lap, and fell asleep. A nurse came by shortly after she saw Kate sleeping and offered to get her a pillow and some blankets, but there’s no comfort to be had in the ICU waiting room.
My eyes ache from the lack of sleep, but there’s no room for complaints when Kate is suffering enough for the both of us. I’m just glad I can be here for her. The thought of leaving doesn’t sit well with me, but it’s Sunday, and our fall break is over. I slip my cell phone out from my pocket and shoot a quick email to one of my professors who’s a total pisspot when it comes to attendance. I explain the situation and then ask if he’d allow me to skip his lectures this week without risking my grade since I’ve already exceeded the four absences he allots us.
After I hit send, Kate’s mother walks by the waiting room again. She’s been on the phone all morning, pacing back and forth. A few officers stopped by not too long ago to check in on her and get an update on Steve. After speaking to one of them, I found out that the passenger that was in the car Steve had pulled over for a routine traffic stop had an outstanding warrant and was high on crack. He jumped out of the car and started firing, putting a bullet through Steve’s neck.
The only reason he didn’t die right then and there was because the driver had enough of a conscience to call 9-1-1 before fleeing the scene. They’ve both been apprehended, but it’s little consolation considering Steve is still in critical condition. I didn’t wake up Kate to tell her, but she’ll find out as soon as she wakes up because the news playing on the small television in the waiting room has been reporting on it all morning.
“The nurse just said we can go back and see him now,” her mother tells me in a hushed voice when she steps into the waiting area. “Should we wake her?”
Looking down at Kate, I run the back of my hand down her cheek. “I think I’ll let her sleep for a few more minutes.”
Her mom comes over and takes a seat in the chair next to me before stroking her hand over her daughter’s hair. “It’s good that you’re here for her,” she tells me.
“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
She smiles for only a moment, and I get the feeling she wants to say something, but she hesitates before shifting the focus to her other daughter. “Audrina’s flight gets in around noon today.”
“You have her flight number?”
“In my email. Why?”
“Send it to me, and I’ll go pick her up,” I offer, feeling a need to help this family in any way I can.
“Oh, you don’t have to do that.”
“It’s fine,” I assure. “You should be here in case anything happens.”
Her hand slips out of Kate’s hair and onto my knee. She gives it a light squeeze, saying, “Thank you.”
“No worries.”
When she’s gone, I sit alone with Kate. She was so tense yesterday, and I’d never seen her shut down the way she did last night. I wish I knew for sure if I handled it the right way, but I have no idea. I tried to be supportive without being overbearing, but when I heard her crying in the bathroom, there was no thinking. I just went to her. When she let me hold her in the shower, it was a huge sense of relief because she dropped her walls enough to release some of her pain instead of locking it all inside herself like she had after Caleb. It was also one of the hardest moments of my life. I felt entirely worthless because there was nothing I could do to take her suffering away.
She begins to stir in my lap, and I watch as her eyes blink open. The moment she remembers where we are, dread washes over her.
“Hey,” I murmur.
She pushes herself up and yawns heavily before slacking her shoulders and staring out the window.
I want to ask her if she’s okay, but it’s a stupid question.
“Where’s my mom?”
“She’s back with your dad.” I look into her eyes, which are bloodshot, and the overwhelming need to take care of her swims back into focus. “Tell me what I can do.”
In a heap of defeat, she shrugs. “Tell me none of this is real.”
Wrapping my arm around her, I pull her into me, and she lays her head against my shoulder. “I wish I could.”
The two of us sit for a handful of minutes, and I know she’s scared to go see her father again, but I encourage her anyway. “You should go spend some time with your dad.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I have to go to the airport in a bit to pick up your sister, but you don’t need to worry about me. I’ll be around. I just want you to focus on your family.”
Tired and weak, she gives a solemn nod as we both stand and I pull her into a long hug. I hold tightly and drop a slow kiss on to the top of her head before drawing back and angling her face up to me. She stares for a moment before lifting onto her toes and kissing me. It’s the saddest kiss I’ve ever gotten from her, and it hurts so badly to see this happening when she doesn’t deserve any of it.
Hers is the sweetest soul I’ve ever come across. There’s a tenderness inside her that many would be surprised to find, and I’m so thankful that I’m the one she gives it to. I never thought she’d be willing to get involved with a guy like me, never thought she would trust me enough to even give me a chance. I feel undeserving at times because I’ve been so selfish for so long. But she was who encouraged me to reevaluate myself. She’s the only one I’ve been willing to do that for. And as I stand here, holding her in my arms, fuck, I’d give this girl the world if I could, and it’s killing me that I can’t fix this for her.
“I love you,” she whispers against my lips.
“You have no idea how much I love you back.”
Slowly, she pulls away from me, and I watch as she walks through the double doors and down the hall. Heading back to the waiting room, my mom calls me.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Hi. I know it’s early, but I wanted to check in on the two of you. How’s Kate doing?”
I flop down in one of the chairs with a hard sigh. “Not good. I’ve never seen her like this before. I don’t know what to do.”
“You’re doing all you can just by being there and supporting her.”
“It doesn’t feel like enough.”
“It won’t, but I promise you that it is,” she says. “How’s her father?”
“I don’t know. There aren’t any updates, but it doesn’t look good.”
“Well, I’m here if you need me. Please tell Kate that I love her and I’m praying for her family.”
“I will, Mom. Thank you.”
We say our goodbyes, and I run down to the cafeteria to grab the girls a couple of bagels. Since they don’t allow food back in the patient rooms, I leave them at the ICU information desk before texting Kate.
Me: There are bagels for you and your mom at the desk. I’m heading to the airport now. Call if you need me.
No response comes back, not that I figured any would. I don’t want to imagine what she going through right now
being back there with her father.
When I arrive at the airport, I park and go inside to wait for her sister. After a while, she finally appears, looking just as distraught as Kate.
“Audrina,” I call out, and she looks surprised to see me here, but she doesn’t question anything when she walks into my arms, taking me off guard.
I hug her back for a long minute before she pulls away, and we silently make our way to the baggage claim to collect her luggage and then out to my Jeep.
“Where is everyone?” she finally asks.
“They’re at the hospital,” I tell her as she continues to wipe at the tears falling down her face.
“I haven’t talked to Mom since my layover a few hours ago; have there been any updates on my dad?”
Pulling out on to the main street, I shake my head. “I don’t know. But do you need anything? Are you hungry or need coffee?”
“No, I just want to get to the hospital. I’ll worry about eating later,” she tells me, and I know it must’ve been hell for her to be stuck on an international flight all night, knowing that her dad is fighting for his life.
After we arrive at the hospital, I walk her up to make sure she’s okay before I head back to the house. I take her suitcase up to her room, and as much as I need a nap, stress has me unable to sit still. While I wait to hear from them, I keep myself busy and go to the grocery store to stock up on food since there isn’t much at the house. It isn’t until I’m unloading everything that I finally get a text from Kate.
Kate: Visiting hours are almost over. We have three hours before we can come back. Can you come get me?
Me: Yeah. I’m leaving your house now.
I pick them up, and the two of them are drained and Audrina can’t stop crying. Neither says much of anything, aside from Kate mentioning a headache as she and her sister go upstairs to Kate’s room.
I grab her prescription for her and make sure they have everything they need before backing out of the room. As I close the door, the last thing I see is the two of them lying in bed and Kate wrapping her sister up in a hug as she cries.
