by K Webster
I want to believe her.
I really do.
“He’s only twenty-two. How could he have a heart attack?” I ask, my voice a whisper. “I don’t understand.”
Brayden pulls away and our eyes meet. “His dad…” His bottom lip trembles. “I should have known.”
“What?” both Mia and I ask.
“His dad died from a heart condition. I think… I think maybe it’s genetic.”
I jerk my gaze to Dad. “The thing written into his contract that he didn’t want to discuss…”
Dad’s lips purse and he nods. “I’m sorry, Son. He didn’t think it’d be a problem since he’s been medicated for it.”
Brayden curses. “He was taking medication. I saw it Thanksgiving weekend. I should have pushed and asked what it was for.”
A heart condition.
Medication.
Why would he keep this from us?
“The important thing is,” Molly says, “he’s here and they can take care of him.”
But they didn’t see him.
His pale face that turned blue with each passing second. His dark blue lips. No sounds. No movement. He was dead. They jump-started his heart, but he was dead.
I think I’m going to be sick.
I barely make it to the trash can before I puke my guts up.
He has to live.
I’m not going to be able to live without him.
Heart condition.
Stroke.
Lack of oxygen to the brain.
Coma.
Those four pieces of information keep running through my head on repeat as I stare at Drew’s lifeless body. After the doctors got him stabilized and ran extensive tests, that’s what we were told. He has a heart condition. For some reason he had a stroke. The lack of oxygen to his brain caused him to slip into a coma, and they don’t know if or when he’ll wake up.
I’ve been sitting by his bed, holding his hand for what feels like days, listening to his heart beat on the monitors. The doctors have no answers. He should’ve woken up by now, but he hasn’t. My phone vibrates in my back pocket, but I continue to ignore it, not giving a shit who it is. Everyone I need is in this room with me. Ashton and Brayden finally fell asleep on the couch. I should probably get some sleep as well, but I can’t bring myself to let go of his hand.
I had just finished taking my last final for the semester and was walking over to the tutoring center, when I received the video of the four of us dancing at the Halloween party. Not too long after, while I was in the middle of trying to help a student study for his final—completely distracted and unable to focus—I got the call that Drew was being taken to the hospital.
After hours of waiting for news, we learned that Brayden was listed as Drew’s emergency contact. He was in shock. They hadn’t talked in years, yet he listed him. That says a lot about how much Drew loves Brayden—even when they weren’t talking.
My phone buzzes again and I pull it out to turn it off, when I see the word Dad flash across my screen. Without thought, I press answer.
“Mia,” he says, his voice sounding pained over the line.
“Yeah,” I croak out. I should be mad at him—hell, I am—shouldn’t want to talk to him, but for some reason I need to hear his voice. I can’t explain why.
“I’ve been trying to get ahold of you. I need to talk to you. Your mom—”
“I need you, Daddy,” I blurt out, fresh tears filling my lids. Up until now, I’ve kept it all bottled up inside, not wanting to upset Ashton or Brayden. They’re always here for me, and I wanted to be strong for them.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“I’m at North Michigan General.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No.” I shake my head even though he can’t see me. “My boyfriend Drew is. He…” I choke out, trying to talk softly so I don’t wake the boys up. The last thing they need is to feel like they have to comfort me. “He had a stroke. I need you, please.”
I don’t care how mad I am at him.
I don’t care how much he’s hurt me.
My father is one of the best heart doctors in the United States and if anyone can fix a heart, it’s him. And that’s what I need him to do. Fix Drew’s heart. Make him better so he’ll come back to us. Because we can’t lose him.
“I’m on my way,” he says. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
We hang up and a throat clears behind me, startling me. I swivel around and Ashton is staring at me, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep.
“Is he coming?” he asks, running his fingers through his messy hair.
I nod. “I know he’s not—”
“Stop,” he says, getting up and walking over to me. He kneels in front of me and presses his hand to my cheek. “You don’t have to explain. He’s your dad, and if it means he can help Drew…”
A sob bubbles out of me. I’ve been trying so hard to hold it together. “What if he doesn’t wake up?”
“He will,” Ashton says, his eyes glassy. “He’s just resting for a bit. But once he’s ready, he’ll wake up.”
I nod in agreement, wanting to believe him.
A little while later, Brayden wakes up. He’s quiet, refusing to even look at Drew, and I know at some point I need to ask him what’s going on in his head, but right now we’re all barely hanging on.
We spend the morning in Drew’s room, quiet and lost in ourselves. The nurses come in and out, checking on Drew, but nobody has any news. Brayden’s mom brings us lunch, demanding we eat. Afterward, she and Tim go home to shower, telling us they’ll be back soon.
When the door opens a couple hours later, I expect it to be them or the nurse, so I’m shocked to see my dad walk in. He’s dressed in a suit, like the one he wears to work every day, and with him is the doctor who’s in charge of Drew’s case. His eyes lock with mine and suddenly it’s all just too much. The waiting. The not knowing.
I throw myself into my dad’s arms as tears well up from deep inside and course down my cheeks. He wraps his arms around me and tells me he loves me while I breathe in his comforting scent. Memories from when I was a little girl surface. Him putting a Band-Aid on my skinned knee when I fell off my bike. Being the one to stitch me up when I tripped and hit my head on the table. Taking care of me when I had the flu and my mother refused to go near me. He’s always put her first over the years, let her call the shots, but when I needed him, really needed him, he’s always been there, and now I need him to make Drew better.
When I finally pull back, he smiles softly down at me. “We need to talk, but right now, let’s focus on your boyfriend’s condition.”
It warms my heart that he referred to Drew as my boyfriend. Then I wonder if maybe he thinks I’ve replaced Ashton and Brayden. Drew wasn’t with us the night I told my parents about them.
My dad’s eyes glance over my shoulder and a small smile tugs at his lips. “I feel like we didn’t get to properly meet last time.” He extends his hand out to Ashton. “I’m Harold Lexington, Mia’s father.”
Ashton glares at his hand for a long moment, and I hold my breath, waiting to see how he’ll handle it. He’s protective of me, all of my guys are, and they know how badly Dad’s choice to go along with Mom’s decision to disown me and cut me off hurt me. Ashton’s gaze meets mine, and I nod slightly, silently asking him to let it go for now. It’s like he said earlier, if he can help Drew…
“I’m Ashton, Mia’s other boyfriend.” He shakes my dad’s hand.
“Nice to meet you, Son.”
Ashton’s jaw ticks, but he doesn’t correct him.
“Dad, you remember Brayden?”
“I do,” he says, stepping over to him and shaking his hand as well. “Good to see you again. I’m sorry it’s under these circumstances.”
Brayden doesn’t say a word, just nods and shakes my dad’s hand.
Dad clears his throat, then walks back over to me and the doctor, who is standing patiently in the corner, waiting f
or him.
“I’ve taken a look at the tests Dr. Palmer has run. Drew has what we call an ‘athlete’s heart.’ His heart muscles are thicker than they should be. Because of this, blood flow leaving the heart is restricted. You might’ve seen him struggling to catch his breath when he’s overly active.”
Brayden curses under his breath then finally speaks. “Yeah, I have. When we went skiing. When we were messing around in the rink. I chalked it up to him being out of shape and gave him shit for it.”
Guilt shines in Brayden’s eyes. “Don’t go there,” I tell him, cutting across the room and hugging him. “You couldn’t have known. None of us knew besides Drew.”
“But I should’ve,” he argues. “I should’ve known he wouldn’t just leave the NHL. I knew he was hiding something and I didn’t push him to find out what.”
“Can you fix him?” Ashton asks my dad.
My eyes swing over to Dad, but it’s Dr. Palmer who speaks. “Right now, our main concern is him waking up.”
“He will wake up,” Ashton hisses. “And when he does, I want to know if you can fix him.”
“Hockey is his life,” Brayden adds.
“Unfortunately, his condition can’t be fixed,” Dad explains. “Most people don’t even know they have it. They lead a normal life. But those, like Drew, who play an active sport, find out because they put strain on their heart for long periods of time. It can be treated, which, according to his medical records, he’s taking medication for, but there’s no cure. There’s no surgery to fix him.”
“Then how the hell did this happen?” Ashton asks. “He wasn’t playing hockey when he collapsed. He was…” He swallows audibly. “He was packing his shit.”
“The heart attack could’ve been brought on due to several different reasons. Looking at his chart, his medication is too low. If he’s active, it should’ve been reevaluated. He also might not have been taking it. If he was stressed, it could’ve put strain on his heart…”
Brayden curses and walks over to the corner, tugging at the ends of his hair. I want to comfort him, but I also want to hear what my dad is saying.
“So, he’ll never be able to play hockey again?” Ashton asks.
“Not at a professional level,” Dad explains. “The medication slows down his heart, preventing him from going at full speed, which will keep him from playing at his best. And even if he were fine with that, no professional team will let him play in his condition. The risk of heart failure is too high. He could have a heart attack while playing. No team will take on that risk.”
We all go quiet at his words. Heart failure. Drew had a stroke. He could’ve died.
Fresh tears fill my lids and Ashton pulls me into his side. “Don’t go there, MiMi,” he says, knowing my thoughts without me having to verbalize them. “We aren’t going to lose him.”
“You getting him here when you did saved his life,” Dad says to Ashton.
“During cardiac arrest, immediate chest compressions are key,” Dr. Palmer adds. “Because of your quick thinking, he’s still here. I’m certain of that.”
Had he been alone… I can’t even imagine it.
“When will he wake up?” I ask, even though the doctor has said he doesn’t know.
“Unfortunately, now it’s a waiting game. It could be hours… days…” His sad eyes meet mine, silently telling me what I don’t want to hear. He might never wake up.
“Fuck this!” Brayden barks, stalking out of the room.
“Should we…” I begin, as Ashton says, “I’ll go.”
The doctor excuses himself, letting Dad know to inform him if he needs anything before leaving Dad and me.
“I know now isn’t the best time,” Dad says once we’re alone—well, alone with Drew sleeping next to us. “But I thought you should know I’ve left your mother.”
I gasp in shock, never expecting him to say that. “What?”
“It’s why I’ve been calling you. I’ve hired a lawyer and filed for divorce.”
“Why?” is all I can come up with.
“Because she’s not the person I married. I don’t know when she changed, or why I refused to see it, and I wish I could go back and fix what I allowed her to destroy, but when Drew called me—”
“He called you?” I glance over at the beautiful man sleeping. “When? Why?” He never mentioned this.
“Shortly after your mom signed the non-renewal for the lease and drained your bank account. We had a long talk and he made me see the mistakes I’ve made, putting my wife above my daughter over and over again. I’ve been a coward for far too long. I didn’t want to see what was happening right under my nose. But he made me see it, and I’m so sorry, Mia.” He goes to touch me, but I back up.
“You’re sorry?” I scoff. “She spent years putting me down, locking me in a metaphorical cage to keep me under her thumb. I was so desperate to make her love me, I starved myself, trying to be perfect for her, but no matter what I did, I was never good enough. And the entire time you watched, you saw what she was doing. When I asked to go to Michigan, you knew it was so I could start over, get away from her. You said you supported me, but the second I did something you didn’t approve of, you allowed her to cut me off. You told me it was tough love.”
“I know. And I can’t take back what I said, or the choices I made, but I’m hoping one day you’ll forgive me and give me a chance to make things right.”
“I have three boyfriends,” I point out.
“I know.” He nods. “And it’s obvious they all love you deeply and take care of you. The way your mother and I should’ve loved and taken care of you.”
“We take care of each other.” I look at Drew, loving him that much more for reaching out to my dad. For trying to fix the broken so I would be happy. “I appreciate you coming here,” I tell him. “It means a lot to me that you would drop what you were doing and get on a plane to come here, but I don’t think I can forgive you. Too much has happened. I love you and you’re my dad, but…”
“I understand,” he says, his face contorted as if he’s in physical pain. “I know it won’t happen overnight, but maybe over time…”
“Maybe,” I agree noncommittedly. “Right now I just need to focus on Drew and Ashton and Brayden.” They come first. They’ll always come first.
“If you need me, I’m only a phone call away,” Dad says, stepping forward. I allow him to hug me for several heartbeats before I move out of his hold.
“Thank you.”
Just after Dad leaves, Ashton enters, sans Brayden. “Where is he?”
“I don’t know. I was hoping he came back here.” He glances around the room. “Did your dad leave?”
“Yeah.”
He gives me a questioning look, but I shake my head, not wanting to get into all that now. “I’ll go look for Brayden. Stay with Drew.” I need a moment to catch my breath.
The hospital isn’t big, but he could be anywhere. I check the outside waiting area, the cafeteria… I briefly wonder if maybe he left.
I’m pulling out my phone to call him, when I notice the hospital chapel. I step inside and find him sitting in the front pew, his head down and his shoulders shaking.
I sit next to him and take his hand in mine. When he looks up at me, his eyes are red-rimmed and his face is slightly puffy from crying.
“Ben was brought here,” he mutters. “Died here. In the pediatric wing.”
My heart fissures, and I pull him into my arms. “I’m so sorry, Bray.” I hold him as tight as I can, wishing my love could physically transfer from me to him.
“We fought,” he says after a minute.
“You and your brother?” I ask, confused.
“No, me and Drew. He said he was leaving to protect us and I went off on him.”
Oh no. His quietness, the look of guilt, all makes sense now. “You didn’t cause his heart attack,” I say carefully, knowing full well he isn’t going to accept my words.
“I cursed at him, got in
his face,” he says, his voice resigned. “I was so upset…”
“You didn’t know about his heart, and even if you did, people argue all the time.”
“You heard your dad. Stress to the heart—”
“Stop it,” I demand. “You aren’t the reason your brother died, and you aren’t the reason Drew is in the hospital. You need to stop blaming yourself for everything.”
Brayden is quiet for a long time, while I hold him, wishing there were a way to lift some of the weight he’s carrying off his shoulders. He refuses to speak to his parents about his brother. He believes he’s the reason Drew had a stroke. If Drew doesn’t wake up, I don’t think Brayden will survive it. He’s already barely hanging on. One more pound and I’m afraid it’ll be too much for him to handle.
“I’m going to go check on him,” he says, his voice barely a whisper.
“Okay, I’ll go with you.”
We walk, hand in hand, down the hall back toward Drew’s room. Just before we get there, I see his parents coming down the hall. “Go ahead,” I tell him. “I’ll be inside in a moment.”
He nods, not noticing his parents, and goes inside.
As I walk toward them, contemplating if I’m making the right decision, his mom smiles sweetly at me, and I know what I need to do. In the short time I’ve known her, she’s done nothing but be loving and accepting. If she knew what Brayden’s been telling himself for years, she would set him straight. She would never let him believe he killed his brother.
“Can I talk to you guys for a minute?” There’s a chance Brayden’s going to be mad at me for what I’m about to do, but I have to do it—for him.
Molly and Tim both nod.
“Of course,” Molly says. “Is it Drew?”
“No. It’s about Ben.”
I can’t take this.
Again.
The guilt. The self-hatred. The agony.
Ben. Now Drew. Maybe it’ll be Ashton or Mia next.
Why is it my actions always hurt those around me?
Ashton reaches over, threading his fingers with mine, momentarily silencing my awful thoughts that are on repeat inside my head. “You think loud. It hurts my ears.”