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“The things she was saying. Seeing her in his place just amplified all the things I’m not and not ready for. He wants a wife and kids. I’m nowhere near ready for that.”
“You fucking broke it off with him, didn’t you?” His voice climbs.
“Don’t yell at me. I did what I thought was right forhim. He settled for years. I didn’t want him to do that for me. Now it might cost him his life.” I bury my face in the tote bag, wrapping my arms tighter around it.
Wes wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me to his chest. I feel his chin settle on the top of my head. “I’m sorry. Fuck. I just want to understand.”
“He told me he loves me.”
“I’ve known he has since summer. He walked into that club one person and walked out another. He was alive because of you.”
“Was?”
“I mean is. Is.”
“Now he might die because of me.”
He sits me up and shakes my shoulders a bit. “Stop it. I’m not going to let you think like that. If you can’t stay positive, then I won’t take you up there. Blaming yourself isn’t going to change shit, and the family doesn’t need it.”
I take a deep breath in and exhale out, while wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. “I need to talk about it, but now isn’t the time. You’re right. Tell me what I need to know.”
“It will be a shock to see him. He’s got cuts and bruises all down the left side of his body. His shoulder is pretty fucked up. He’s not breathing on his own right now. The shoulder took the first hit, but his head took the second, third, and fourth.”
“What does that mean?”
“The helmet saved his life. He’s got a skull fracture. From the MRI and CT, it shows it from here to here.” Wes draws an imaginary line on his own head. “There is a brain bleed causing some swelling.”
“What are they doing about it?”
“Nothing right now. They’re trying medication as a first intervention to see if the swelling goes down.”
“If it doesn’t?”
“Then they will have to relieve the pressure with surgery. None of this means Eli will be Eli again, even if we can get him through this part.”
If. Two letters, one syllable. I hate it.
“Take me to him.”
I walk a half a step behind Wes at first, until he reaches back for my hand. I take it for many reasons. One, I’m scared. Two, he’s scared. Three, he’s giving me something to focus on so I keep moving. But the most important one to me, I feel like he’s forgiving me, which allows me to try to forgive myself.
Elevators. I’m growing to hate them. They haven’t taken me anywhere good lately. The bell dings on the sixth floor and the doors open. We walk straight into this massive waiting area together. There are pods for each family who has a loved one on the floor. They have the comforts of deep leather seating, tables, a pitcher with cups around it, and a charging station.
I zero in on Andy right away. He’s sitting on the short couch, staring off into nothing with his glasses resting on top of his head. Next to him is Eli’s grandmother, Evie. They’re holding hands like Jack and Rose at the end ofTitanic. It’s that don’t let go grip. Her free hand is clutching a tissue that seems to have been well-worn by tears or just by holding it. Jack is pacing in front of the nearby window on his phone. He’s rubbing his forehead back and forth as he speaks. I’ve never seen him untucked or sleeves rolled, ever. He’s both today.
Eli’s mother, Lily, is holding Hayley on the other long couch. Lily’s hair is pulled back into a sleek ponytail. She’s got an oversized cardigan sweater on which she’s using to partially cover Hayley, who is curled into her mother’s side with her legs tucked behind her. Hayley’s eyes are closed. Wes still hasn’t letgo of me, and I haven’t let go of him. “Hey, everyone. I found someone downstairs.” He sets his duffel down and finally pries the tote from my hand to set down beside it.
Hayley startles, her eyes open to Wes’s voice. “Dylan,” she cries as she flies off the couch, wrapping her arms around my neck. I’m stunned a bit at first, but then bury my face in her neck and hold on. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
I whisper in her ear, “I didn’t know. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
She sniffs. “I tried to call and call.”
Jack, ending his phone conversation, comes over to address me. “Dylan. Anna said you’d be coming by. Thank you for doing that so Hayley could stay with us.”
“You’re welcome. Is there any news?”
“No,” he replies. “Not yet.”
