Page 45 of Wilder

It felt wrong. Missing Christmas with him, seeing our brother leave under these circumstances—it wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

But in the end, there was no other choice.

Xavier needed him more than we did.

Dropping him off was a weird kind of serendipitous moment; one of those eerie, full-circle instances that made the past and present blur together in a way that felt too intentional to be coincidence.

It reminded me too much of when we’d done the exact same thing a year earlier. Only back then, it had been Grey and me standing in his place—separated with only a few weeks between our departures—bags packed, saying our goodbyes with no real idea of what we were walking into once we passed through TSA and headed off for our gates.

The roles had reversed but the weight of it felt just the same.

Back then, we had left not knowing what the future would bring. Now, we were sending Gage off into his own unknown, hoping that when he returned, it would be with good news instead of more heartbreak.

CHAPTER 12

Asher

Christmas evening, I found myself too wired to even think about calling it an early night.

The day had passed in a strange, sluggish haze, every hour dragging by in a way that made it feel like time itself had stretched thin.

After opening presents that felt a little emptier without Gage there, Greyson and I had made sure to take plenty of pictures to send to him with the hope of lifting his spirits while he sat by Xavier’s hospital bed. It wasn’t much, but it was all we could do—small reminders that he wasn’t alone, regardless of him being in a completely different state.

He’d been appreciative, which had been enough for the both of us to quietly pack everything back up and push it back under the tree for the time being.

After that, the morning had bled into an afternoon that felt practically suffocating.

Neither of us had the energy to pretend like we wanted to celebrate by ourselves, despite what our pictures to Gage portrayed. The usual excitement and easy laughter that was supposed to come with Christmas had been dulled by the uncertainty still looming over us while Xavier remained unconscious on the ventilator.

It felt wrong anyway.

So we spent most of the day in silence with the TV droning quietly in the background, more for noise than entertainment. Checking my phone constantly for any updates nearly sent me mad until finally, finally, the call came.

Xavier had woken up.

The relief was instant; a sharp, breath-stealing thing that left me feeling dizzy, like my body didn’t quite know how to handle the sudden shift from waiting to knowing.

I was happy. God, I was so happy.

But more than that, I was exhausted.

The emotions I’d spent the entire day shoving down, keeping at bay with distractions and forced normalcy, were finally breaking through the dam. It wasn’t just relief—it was the slow unraveling of the tension that had been coiled tightly in my body, the weight of that uncertainty was finally beginning to peel away.

The fear, the helplessness, the aching worry, it all came crashing down into a single, overwhelming wave that left me drained in a way I didn’t have the energy to fight.

The only annoying part?

Despite feeling like I had just run an emotional marathon, my body refused to let me sleep.

I lay there, staring at the ceiling, my thoughts still buzzing even as my limbs ached with the need to sleep. It was like my mind hadn’t gotten the memo that it was over. That I didn’t need to be on edge anymore. That for the first time in a day and a half, I could rest.

But no matter how many times I tossed and turned, sleep refused to come.

God fucking damn it.

I supposed the only silver lining in all of this was getting my own bed and room back. No longer forced to share with my brother, I had the space to exist without feeling like I was constantly invading someone else’s space.

And, most importantly, I had the freedom to pace.