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“What?” Claire gasps, shock and confusion evident in her tone.
“I’m coming to Colorado. I need to get on a flight as soon as possible. Please call me if you have any updates. I’ll be there as fast as I can,” I rush out, running a shaky hand through my hair.
“Skylar…” she croaks, her voice barely a whisper.
“I’ll see you soon,” I whisper before ending the call. She’s not going to convince me to stay, and I don’t have another second to waste.
All I want to do is curl up in a ball and cry. It feels impossible to move, like my body is sinking through quicksand. My cheeks are damp from tears, the salty drops trickling from my cheeks down to my tongue. Breathing no longer comes naturally to me. I’m having to remind myself to inhale and exhale, or else I’ll start hyperventilating.
I’m fighting the urge to climb into my sister’s car and fall apart in her arms. I’m fighting to not fall to my knees and curl up in a ball. I’ve never been so scared in my entire life. I’m a fucking mess. I don’t know what to do. But I know that Everett would be there for me. He would move mountains to be by my side if he had to.
So I grab my bag from the floor before slinging it over my shoulder. I stand from the bench on trembling legs, trudging one foot in front of the other as I make my way toward the customer service desk. As I approach the counter, I wipe away my tears and inhale a deep breath.
You got this, Skylar. You can be strong for him.
“Hi, how can I help you?” The airport representative asks, a kind smile stretched across her face.
I take a deep breath, staring directly into her eyes.
“I need you to book me on the next available flight to Colorado Springs. It’s an emergency.”
TWENTY-SIX
Skylar
Déjà vu hits me like a truck as I watch the mountains pass by in the distance, the mid-day sun peeking through the clouds. I should be home right now, counting down the hours until Everett arrives to pick me up, not back in Colorado. How did this beautiful state turn into my worst nightmare in less than twenty-four hours?
It’s been four hours since Claire called and delivered the devastating news. The worst four hours of my entire life. Four hours of waiting, sobbing, throwing up in airport bathrooms, and trying to just keep my shit together. I’ve only received one update from Claire, and it wasn't a comforting one.
She texted me to let me know that Everett was taken straight to the Emergency Room to be assessed. My head spins with the gut-wrenching thought of Everett’s unconscious body, bloody and broken in a hospital bed.
I feel a small sense of relief when I see the hospital come into view.He’s there,I tell myself.You’ll be with him soon. He’s right there, and he’s going to be okay.
My phone vibrates in my lap, the screen lighting up with a text from my sister.
Kara: Did you make it?
Me: Yes. Pulling up to the hospital now.
Kara: Good. Keep me updated on how he’s doing. Let me know if you need anything.
Me: Thanks, sis. I will. Love you.
Kara: Love you too. He’s going to be okay, Sky. I know it.
The corner of my lips turn up in a sad smile as I text her back a heart emoji. I can only hope she’s right.She has to be.I won’t accept any other outcome.
“We’re here, miss,” the Uber driver says over his shoulder, distracting me from my thoughts. I look out of the window to my right, noticing two glass doors that lead into the hospital. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, preparing myself for whatever happens once I get inside.
“Thank you,” I smile, reaching for the door handle. “Have a great day.”
Once I’m out of the car, I sling my bag over my shoulder and walk towards the double doors. When I step inside the hospital, I’m immediately greeted by white walls, fluorescent lighting, shiny, vinyl flooring, and the smell of cleaning supplies.
God, I hate hospitals.
I spot the front desk directly in front of me, my eyes laser-focused on the receptionist sitting behind it. My pace quickens with each step I take closer to the counter. The receptionist’s eyes widen when she takes in my appearance, looking completely out of breath and disheveled.
I’m sure I look like I just crawled out of a sewer. I’ve cried off every ounce of makeup I put on this morning, leaving black mascara marks down my cheeks. My hair is thrown up in a messy bun that I’m sure looks like a rat's nest, and I’m wearing Everett’s t-shirt, which swallows me in size. I almost bought a different shirt at the airport, but I can’t bring myself to take it off. It still smells like him and right now, that’s all I have.
