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As the doctor exits, I roll on my socks and slip into shoes before leaning into the supportive arm Marty offers.
We walk down several long corridors to the recovery area.
West looks like the only one there tonight.
Tears nip at my eyes as I look through the glass.
How pale he looks...and that IV in his arm darkly complements the sling holding his leg up. I almost don’t want him to wake up tonight, knowing how miserable he’ll be.
It hits me like a brickbat to the face, and I know.
This is my fault.
All.
My.
Fault.
“Let’s go, sis,” Marty says softly, guiding me into the room and one side of the bed.
My brother keeps a gentle arm around me as I grasp Weston’s hand.
“I’m so flipping sorry, West. How can I ever make it up to you?” I whisper.
His eyes stir, fluttering open. He stares at me for the longest second ever before cracking a faint smile.
“Told you I wouldn’t die,” he says, his voice a dry rattle.
I try to talk, to laugh, but nothing comes out.
Probably for the best when all I want to say will throw him into a coma.
I love him.
I’ve always, always loved him.
I love him so much I’m shaking, so much it kills me not to tell him right here, right now.
But I can’t be the death of him after everything earlier, so I lean down, pressing my lips to his forehead.
He lets out a long, groaning sigh. I can tell he’s falling asleep fast.
“He’ll be in and out of it for a while,” the nurse says, entering the room. “That’s normal for a fella in his state. He’s very lucky.”
I nod, blotting at the tears on my cheeks.
“Hell of a friend, isn’t he?” Marty asks, giving me a knowing look.
I nod again like my neck turned into dough, blinking back more tears.
“I told him to tell you everything—that you’d understand—but you know what an uptight donkey he can be,” Marty says with a laugh. “I just wish he would’ve listened before this crap came down.”
Frowning, I look at Marty.
“Tell me what? The Army?” Weston’s struggles still make me feel awful, especially knowing I wasn’t here for him when he came home. “I already heard a lot from Faye...”
“He went through hell during that ambush. After it, he was dead set on punishing himself for living when so many didn’t.” He pauses, shaking his head. “But that’s not what I’m talking about.”
