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I can’t believe my ears. “You’re supposed to be here, supporting your brother, just how he would if the tables were turned!” My anger is spiking, which is a nice change from wanting to cry myself into oblivion.
He scoffs. “I doubt that. Look, Lucy, I’m sorry you’re upset, but there’s nothing I can do.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” I blurt out. “Samuel needs your blood! And maybe a kidney!” I curse the moment the insensitive words leave my lips. “I didn’t mean—” But it’s too late.
“So if Samuel didn’t need me, I’m guessing no one would have called?” My silence speaks volumes. “Did Kellie put you up to this?”
“What? No, of course not! Even if he didn’t need your blood, someone would have called you,” I reply, hoping I’m right.
“Don’t count on it.”
Rubbing my forehead, I know he’s right. The fact Greg and Kellie were so reluctant to call Saxon reveals they were probably in no hurry to tell him. We’re all in shock, but Saxon had every right to know the moment it happened. What he decided to do with that piece of information was entirely up to him—just as it’s within his rights to say no if he doesn’t want to help his brother.
“Okay, I understand.” I sigh, hating that I’ve failed Samuel. “I’m sorry to have bothered you.”
I want to kick and scream, beg him to change his mind, but I know Sam wouldn’t want me to. No matter their differences, Samuel always respected his brother’s wishes. When Saxon ignored Samuel’s continuous contact attempts, Sam didn’t press. He said everyone is entitled to their opinions and choices, just as Saxon is entitled to being a total jerk.
“I’m sorry, Lucy.”
I don’t know what he’s apologizing for, but I accept his apology. “I can text you with updates—if you want me to, of course.” As I look through the sliver of glass on Samuel’s door, I give it one last try. “If you change your mind, not about the blood thing, but if you want to come see him, he’s at St. John Memorial hospital. I know he would love to see you.”
The line goes dead.
I run a hand down my face, attempting to rub away my epic fail.
The door opens and Piper steps out, looking how I feel. “How’d it go?”
“Awful,” I confess. Today, I’ve gone through a range of emotions, but right now I just feel numb. “I have to see Samuel. He needs me.”
Piper nods, but I can sense something is on her mind—the perks of knowing someone for the majority of your life. She has never approved of me dating Sam, and usually, I can respect her opinion, but not today. “Luce, you should go home. Before you bite my head off—” she raises her hands in surrender “—I just meant how about you shower, grab something to eat and a change of clothes, and then come back when you’ve had time to digest this.”
I know she means well, but I’m not going anywhere. “I’m not leaving Samuel, Piper. They can kick me out, and I’ll still loiter outside his door. Outside this damn hospital if I have to.”
She doesn’t argue, which surprises me. “Well, how about I swing past your place and grab you a change of clothes?”
Looking down at my current attire, I realize she’s right. This isn’t really appropriate hospital wear, and when Samuel wakes, I don’t want him seeing me like this. A reminder of what was lost. “Okay, that’ll be great. Thank you. Can you please pack a few days’ worth of clothes? And maybe bring in some of Sam’s stuff, too? That gown is so…” I can’t finish that sentence without wanting to cry.
“Of course.” She dabs at her eyes, her mascara running down her porcelain cheek.
I suddenly realize I didn’t even compliment her on how beautiful she looks as my maid of honor. I remember how excited we were when picking out her pink pastel gown. The soft silk slid underneath our fingertips as we both agreed it was ‘the one.’ Her long brown hair is curled, hugging her heart shaped face, a face which I’ve loved for more than half of my life. She only needed a whisper of makeup as anything else paled in comparison to her natural beauty. “You look beautiful, Piper. Best maid of honor. Ever.”
Her tears mirror mine. “You’re the one who’s beautiful, Lucy. Inside and out.” We hug, not masking our sadness, and not ashamed for the world to know our sorrow. But through sorrow, I’ll find strength, the strength for both Samuel and I to survive.
* * * * *
Hushed voices stir me from a very vivid dream. A nightmare, in fact.
I dreamt Samuel and I never married because he was in a coma. He was drowning in a dense pool of the unknown, and I couldn’t save him. No one could. The only person who could save him was himself.
Just as I’m about to bask in Sam’s signature fragrance and wake him up with a kiss, the low voice sounds once again. “That poor girl, can you believe her fiancé was involved in a car accident on the way to the church?”
Gasp. “No?”
“Ah ha. She came here in her wedding dress. Her entire family were dressed in their Sunday best with no place to go.”
“Oh, that’s terrible. Tragic. Have you read his chart?”
“Yes. Doesn’t look good. When he wakes, he won’t be the same man he once was.”
