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“You can’t do anything, baby. Only if Quinn is all right, will I be okay again.”
“But, Bria . . .”
“Don’t, Damien. Please, I can’t . . . I can’t . . . I can’t . . .”
I cry, covering my face with my hands as Damien rocks me in his arms.
“I don’t know how, but I’ll make it better.”
I rest my head on his shoulder, crying myself to sleep only to wake up in tears. The pain slices me. I have to be there, beside him.
We land, and I’m both relieved and dreading what is to come next.
***
The hospital, even one of the best and exclusive in the world, still smells like sickness and antiseptic. It’s a place where wonders are born, hopes gutted, and the end and the beginning of life are interlinked. I loathe it with every cell of my being. It reminds me of my fight for survival.
Shivers run down my spine awakened by the memory, but this time, it’s not about me, and it hurts worse. A feeling of helplessness overwhelms me. In the face of much stronger forces, we’re nothing, just pathetic little creatures with an expiration date.
In the beginning, as in the end, we are all the same, weak and afraid of where the next step will guide us to the big unknown. Damien supports my limp body as we trudge toward Quinn’s room.
We round the corner, and I break once again, spotting Alex’s head in his hands, his torso hunched over.
My heart splits over our mutual pain. Damien releases me as I collapse on the seat beside him. Alex lifts his chin, the pain in his eyes spearing me open. His arms wrap around me and we cry out our sorrow. I wish I could make the world stop in its tracks.
Alex held me together when I needed him, and now it’s my turn. I have to be strong for him. I lay his head on my lap and stroke his hair, attempting to calm us both. With blurry eyes, I catch a bundle of dark hair, and puffy blue eyes in my vision, holding two cups of coffee. Both Damien and Sophia let us fall apart, knowing there’s nothing they can do to help.
“Alex?”
“Hmm?”
“Is Dad asleep?” He looks at me, the pain reflected in them unmistakable, I swallow a gulp.
“The doctors gave him something to sleep, but it’s bad,” he says. His head drops, and I infuse some determination in my voice.
“He’ll make it. He has to, he can’t leave us alone.” He lifts his chin, and two drowning-in-pain eyes stare up at me.
“The doctor said he began feeling worse months ago. He always does this. Can you save him again?”
This one question and pain slices through me, cutting me deep, and my breath hitches. I search for Damien, who senses my inner turmoil and rushes to me. He clasps my shoulder, giving me strength.
“What about surgery?”
Alex’s pain mutes him, and Sophia answers.
“They said his heart won’t survive the stress of another surgery.”
“What does this mean? Are they going to let him die?”
It’s a rhetorical question, and when the implications of what I ask hits me, we both break all over again. Damien steps in front of me, talking to Alex and me like a parent would talk to a scared child, full of love and understanding.
“Alex, I’m incredibly sorry for both of you, but I have to think of Bria. This stress is not good for her, please.”
“Baby, I respect your suffering, but I’ll find a doctor, and when I come back, just take what he gives you.”
“No. They’ll make me sleepy.”
Alex pats my hand and says, “Damien is right. I can’t worry about you right now too.”
