Chapter 60

DIANA

Isat at the table with my laptop open, going over next week's lesson plans. We were going to be doing some outside activities with the rest of the school on Friday, which would be a nice break for all of us.

I typed away on my laptop, finalizing the details for the upcoming week, and a sense of contentment washed over me. It was good to get back into a rhythm. As long as I stayed focused on work, I didn't have time to think about that other situation that I refused to name. Not anymore.

The knock at my door pulled me from my thoughts. I hoped it wasn't Troy. I had managed to dodge that conversation since he'd revealed his feelings for me.

I peeked through the window and was surprised to see a tall, dark, and handsome man standing on the doorstep. At first, I assumed he was a salesman, but then there was a hint of recognition. I remembered meeting the man on my brief trip to New York City with Hudson. It was Zayn, Hudson's brother. Something about his presence disturbed me. I couldn't explain what it was, but I got a bad feeling. I was trying to put Hudson out of my mind, but that didn't mean I wanted him to be hurt.

Or worse.

I took a deep breath and opened the door. "Hello," I greeted.

He smiled. "Hi, I'm Zayn. I'm not sure if you remember me. I'm Hudson's brother."

"I remember you," I said. "Is Hudson okay? Where is he? What happened?"

"Can I come in?" he asked.

"Yes, sure, please." I gestured for him to come inside. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"No, I'm good."

"Please, have a seat," I said nervously.

"Hudson doesn't know I'm here," he began, his gaze steady as he met my eyes. "But I wanted to talk to you face to face."

His words sent a ripple of apprehension through me, my mind racing with a thousand possibilities—none of them good.

I sat down, my hands clasped together. They were slick with sweat. I could feel my heartbeat in my ears. I felt like I was going to puke. Every second he didn't talk felt like an eternity.

"He's in rehab," he said simply, his tone matter of fact.

"Rehab?"

"He'll be there for the next six weeks," he said.

The news hit me like a sledgehammer. It left me breathless. I felt a strange mixture of relief and shock wash over me.

"Rehab?" I repeated. "I thought he didn't want to go."

"Have you talked to him at all since he left here?" he asked.

"No."

He took a deep breath. "There was an incident."

"Incident?"

"I don't know if I should say," he said.

"Zayn, I care about him," I said. "What happened?"

"He had a little too much—a little too much everything," he said. "He wound up in the hospital. It wasn't good. No, that's an understatement. It was bad. It was very close."

My blood ran cold. "Close?" The word came out as more of a squeak.

"He was very close to death," he said. "If they would have gotten to him even ten minutes later, this would have been a very different conversation."

"I don't understand," I whispered, the world around me momentarily fading away as Zayn's words sank in. Hudson, the man I loved and was trying to hate, had been teetering on the brink of death while I was here, clueless and ignorant to his struggle. Guilt washed over me. I felt horrible for being so pissed at him. I had no idea he was struggling that hard.

"He loves you," Zayn continued, his voice soft but firm. "I know it might not be my place to say, but I know my brother better than anyone, and I can't just stand by and watch him self-destruct. And I'm pretty sure you love him too."

Despite everything that had happened between us, I couldn't deny the truth in his words, the undeniable connection that still lingered between me and Hudson.

"He left me," I said.

"Because he thought he had to," he said. "It's complicated. I'm not even going to try and explain it because I don't know what goes on in that man's head."

I couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness for Hudson—for the man he could have been. If only he could see himself through my eyes. I wished he could see himself the way I saw him—strong, brave, and full of potential. But I knew that was a battle he would have to fight on his own.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I don't even know what to say. I had no idea it was that bad. When he was here, there were a couple of times things got dicey, but never like that."

"I know." He smiled. "He was doing well. But that's how it is with him. He's good and then he's not."

I didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry."

"I didn't come here to win you back for him or anything like that," Zayn said with a smile. "I just thought you deserved to know that he's okay, that he's working on himself and trying to get better. And that he's safe. He mentioned he—" He paused.

"He left me a Dear John note?" I filled in. "That I told him I loved him, and he walked away without a word?"

He grimaced. "Sorry about that."

"It's fine," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. I sat there in silence, trying to process everything Zayn had just told me. Hudson was in rehab, fighting a battle that I didn't even know about. Guilt clawed at my insides as I thought about how oblivious I had been to his struggles.

Zayn cleared his throat, breaking the heavy silence that hung between us. "Look, I know this is a lot to take in. I can't begin to imagine what you've been going through. I know my brother. He can be, well, self-destructive. I promise you he doesn't realize just how destructive his actions and choices are to those he cares about."

I nodded slowly, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside me. Relief that Hudson was alive and getting help, guilt for not being there to support him when he needed it most, and a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, we could find our way back to each other.

"Thank you for telling me," I said finally, meeting Zayn's gaze. "I appreciate your honesty."

Zayn nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "I just want what's best for my brother. And I know he cares about you more than he lets on."

"Is he really okay?"

He didn't immediately answer. "Honestly, no."

My heart dropped. "Oh."

"Have you ever heard the phrase hitting rock bottom?"

"Yes. Do you think this is that?"

"I think it's pretty close," he said. "My dad talked to him. That's what was different this time. I honestly think this was a cry for help. He might not have realized it, but I think that's what it was. I don't think he knew just how bad the situation was. When he… when he was found at the club, Kameron, my brother got the call. Then he called me. We were told to prepare for the worst."

I gasped, covering my mouth. I couldn't stop the tears. "Zayn, I'm so sorry. That must have been horrible for you and your family."

He looked at me, his eyes reflecting the pain he was trying so hard to hide. "I think it was the scariest minute of my life. Scariest hour, really. The doctor wasn't hopeful. Then he was. Then he said we needed to be prepared for him to have some deficits. All I kept thinking was I was the one that convinced him to leave the city and get his head on straight. My brother, Kameron, he wanted Hudson in rehab."

"You feel guilty."

He put a hand to his chest, his pain visible. "Yes."

"And I suppose Kameron was mad at you?"

He nodded. "Initially, we understood it wasn't anything any of us said or did," he said. "He made the choice. I could have tried to push him to rehab, but he wouldn't have gone. He wasn't ready."

"So, did he go willingly?"

He laughed. "No, but he knew it was the right thing to do. I think he realized leaving you was probably the worst thing he could have done. I'm not trying to put any pressure on you, but I think you're the reason he's finally doing this."

"I don't know if I can be the reason," I murmured, feeling a weight of responsibility settle on my shoulders. The thought that my absence had played a part in Hudson's spiral down a destructive path was almost too much to bear. But at the same time, a glimmer of hope sparked within me. Maybe, just maybe, I could also be the reason for his recovery.

"I'm not asking you to be there or anything else," he said. "I just thought you would want to know he wasn't in the right state of mind when he left. I know that was eating him up. I don't know much about you, Hudson never really said much, but that's the first time I saw him really happy. Not drunk happy, but just happy. We talked a few times on the phone, and he sounded so different. So hopeful. Can I ask you what happened?"

I sighed. "I honestly don't know. I told him I loved him, but that's it. We had a great night. He'd been doing well with the drinking. I thought things were going well. And then I woke up and he was gone."

He nodded as if he understood. "Sounds like Hudson."

"Do you think he'll stay in?" I asked.

He wiped his hand over his face. "I honestly don't know," he said. "I'd like to think he will, but Hudson is a stubborn man. This doesn't work if he doesn't want it to. It's up to him."

"Are you asking me to reach out to him?" I asked. "To give him a reason?"

"No!" He shook his head. "Definitely not. You couldn't if you wanted to. I don't expect or want anything from you. I'm just letting you know that he's making an effort."

"I appreciate that." I smiled. "I think it's best I keep my distance. If he wants to reach out, I'll be here. But I don't want to interfere with his recovery. I do wish him all the best. I'll be thinking about all of you. Hudson is a lucky man to have all of you in his corner. He needs that."

Zayn got to his feet. "Thank you, Diana. I can't apologize for my brother, but if he was in his right mind, I know he wouldn't have done what he did."

I gave him a hug. "Thank you. And thank you for driving out here to tell me."

He chuckled. "I needed the drive."

I walked him to the door and waved as he left. I closed it behind him and rested my forehead against the door. That was not expected. I wasn't sure what to think. But I was glad Hudson was safe and getting some help.