3. Brock

The blistering sun beats down on the construction site, casting harsh shadows on the skeletal structure of the house we"re building. I wipe the sweat from my brow, the heat radiating off the wood and concrete below intensifying the sweltering atmosphere. Amidst the clatter of hammers and the hum of power tools, my mind remains consumed by one persistent thought: Layla.

She"s a force to be reckoned with, a tempest that swept into my life and refuses to be forgotten. Every moment, every inch of this job site is permeated with her presence. It"s like the rhythmic pounding of the hammers echoes the relentless drumming of my heart when I think of her.

Layla, with her radiant smile and eyes that seem to hold the secrets of the universe. Her laughter is a melody that plays in my mind, drowning out the noise of the construction around me. I can"t shake the image of her, her sun-kissed hair tousled by the wind, the way she effortlessly carries herself amidst the chaos of this construction zone.

As I nail another board into place, I steal glances in her direction. She"s focused, discussing things with her brother. Layla"s dedication to this build is evident, and it only adds to the allure. The way her hands move, the subtle grace in her gestures – it"s intoxicating.

It"s a scorching day, but the heat pales in comparison to the fire Layla has ignited within me. I find myself yearning for moments when I can be near her, stealing seconds to admire the way the sun highlights the contours of her face.

I make my way towards her, trying to act casual as if seeking her out is a mere coincidence. "Hey, Layla," I say, my voice casual and friendly. "Need a hand with anything?"

She looks up from her conversation with her brother, a genuine smile playing on her lips. "Brock, right?" she says as if she hasn"t been replaying my name in her thoughts just as much as I"ve been mulling over hers.

"Yeah, that"s me," I reply, a subtle grin on my face. "Anything I can do to make this build a little smoother for you?"

She gestures towards a stack of lumber. "If you could help me carry some of those over to the other side, that"d be great. Thanks, Brock."

With a nod, I grab a couple of pieces and follow her lead. We work in tandem, and with each shared effort, the connection between us grows. There"s a chemistry in the air, a magnetic pull that draws me closer to her. As we navigate through the construction site, our arms brush, sending a jolt of electricity through me.

The banter flows effortlessly between us, our laughter mingling with the sounds of construction.

We reach the other side, and I carefully set down the lumber. Layla looks at me, her eyes sparkling with appreciation. "Thanks."

"No problem," I reply, trying to keep my tone casual.

She grins, and in that moment, I feel a connection that goes beyond the construction site.

As the day progresses, I find myself seeking her out more frequently. Whether it"s offering assistance or striking up conversations, I want to be near her. The way she tackles challenges with determination, the glint of sunlight in her eyes as she surveys the progress – it"s all imprinted in my mind.

"Dang, Brock, what's gotten into you?" Tyler teases.

"What are you talking about?"

"I've never seen you work this hard outside of the gym and practice."

"Maybe I found my calling."

"Rich boy wants to work construction? I doubt it!" Roy laughs.

I roll my eyes. These guys never let me live it down that my family is extremely wealthy from oil. They tend to think I'm spoiled and lazy. I put in the same work they do, if not more.

"I'm a man of many talents."

"You don't stop drooling over Layla, Eric might lay you out," one of the guys chuckled lowly. "I know she's hot but you're beyond obvious right now."

"Shut up."

"Just trying to save a friendship," he teases as he holds his hands up in the air.

My phone begins vibrating in my pocket. I glance down to see my father calling. I excuse myself and take the call.

"Hey Dad, what's up?"

"Chaz was in a bad car accident last night. I need you to come home immediately."

"What? Is he okay?"

"It's not looking good right now. You're going to have to cover him at the office for the time being."

"Dad, I'm in the middle of…"

"No, get home now. I would rather you be here with your brother if he doesn't make it."

I blow out a breath. "Yes, Sir."

I hang up the phone and go find Coach J.

"What's happening, Brock?" he asks.

"My dad just called and said my brother was in a pretty bad accident, I need to go home."

"Did anyone ride with you here?"

"Yeah, Eric and Layla."

"Okay, we'll get transportation for them back."

"I can leave my car," I offer.

"No, you need to get home to your brother now. Waiting for a flight or anything else is precious time you may not have."

"Yes, Sir."

"Be safe and keep me posted."

I nod and turn around to find Eric.

"Hey, Chaz was in a bad accident. I need to go home immediately."

"Is he okay?"

"I don't know. Dad says I need to get there ASAP."

"Okay, we'll figure out our ride situation. You go. Keep me posted."

"Where's Layla?"

"She went into town with Coach's wife to get lunch."

"When did they leave?"

"About ten minutes ago. I'll let her know what's going on."

"It's…"

Eric cocks an eyebrow at me before he brushes me off. "Go, I'll let her know what's going on."

I nod and jog to my car. I go back to the dorms and get my things before I leave. It's taking everything in me not to go back to the site just to say bye to Layla.

I dial her phone number and it goes right to voicemail.

I have to go home. My brother was in a bad accident and it doesn't look good. I will text you as soon as I know something. I wanted to say bye but you were gone

I stare at my phone for a bit willing a reply, but none comes.

I start the four-hour drive back home. My brother and I used to be close, but being the youngest who chose to forge a path outside of my family's oil company I'm more of a black sheep than anything.

***

I burst through the hospital doors, the antiseptic smell assaulting my senses. The sterile white walls seem to close in on me as I navigate the labyrinth of corridors. The harsh fluorescent lights flicker overhead, casting an eerie glow on the linoleum floors.

Room 215. The number stands out like a glaring beacon as I approach. I hesitate for a moment, the weight of the unknown bearing down on me. With a deep breath, I push open the door, and the sight before me steals the air from my lungs.

Chaz lies motionless on the hospital bed, a tangle of wires and tubes connecting him to machines that beep in a disconcerting rhythm. His face is pallid, the life drained from his features. It"s a stark contrast to the vibrant, animated brother I know, the one who always had a smile ready, a joke on the tip of his tongue.

My steps falter as I approach the bedside, the reality sinking in. Chaz is in a coma, fighting for his life, and the sterile environment of the hospital room becomes a suffocating cocoon of despair.

I reach out, gripping the cold metal railing of the bed as if it could anchor me to a reality that seems to slip through my fingers. The machines hum and beep, a symphony of uncertainty that echoes in the hollows of the room. Chaz"s hand lies limp in mine, and I feel a lump forming in my throat.

"Chaz," I whisper, my voice barely audible in the clinical silence. "Hang in there, buddy."

Time blurs into a haze as I sit by his bedside, my mind a chaotic swirl of emotions. Guilt, regret, and an overwhelming sense of helplessness intertwine like vines around my heart. The image of my brother, hooked up to machines, haunts my thoughts, and I can"t shake the feeling that I"m on the edge of a precipice, staring into an abyss of uncertainty.

Being away at college I hadn't been home for more than a few days at a time. Chaz and I used to be extremely close but with his family life and my college life it had been a long time since we'd hung out or had a good conversation. I am really regretting that now.

My dad enters the room. His eyes, usually filled with quiet strength, are clouded with a vulnerability I"ve never seen before. He places a hand on my shoulder, the weight of his touch a silent acknowledgment of the shared burden we carry.

"Brock," he says, his voice weary but determined.

"What happened?"

"Drunk driver hit him head-on."

I close my eyes and exhale. "What have the doctors said?"

"It's too soon to tell much."

"Where's mom?"

"She's downstairs explaining everything to Beth."

"She wasn't with him?"

"No, thank goodness. We're lucky he's alive and that… if the kids had been in that car it would have been fatal."

I blow out another breath and nod slowly. Beth and my brother have been married for five years, they have two young kids together.

"We need to face the reality of the situation. Chaz is going to need time, and we can"t put our lives on hold indefinitely."

I nod, understanding the unspoken truth. Life, with its relentless demands, doesn"t pause for tragedy. But before I can voice my agreement, my dad continues.

"Brock, I need you to step up for the next couple of weeks. Chaz"s absence leaves a void at the office, and we can"t afford to let things slip. I know it"s a lot to ask, but we need to keep the business running until we find someone to fill his position temporarily."

I"ve been working at my dad"s office during the summers since I was sixteen, learning the ropes of the family business. But this – stepping into Chaz"s shoes, even temporarily – feels like a leap into uncharted territory.

"I"ll do whatever it takes," I reply the determination in my voice belying the uncertainty that simmers beneath the surface. "But at the same time, I need to make it clear that in two weeks I'll return to school when I'm supposed to regardless of the position is filled. I am going into the NHL, nothing will change that."

"I appreciate the clear boundary, son. It's been hard for me to understand that you don't want to follow in my footsteps, but I'm proud of you for it too."

"Thanks."

He nods, a mixture of gratitude and sadness in his eyes. "I knew I could count on you, Brock. The next couple of weeks are crucial for the business, and I can"t thank you enough for taking this on. We"ll find someone to help eventually, but for now, you"re the anchor we need."

As I leave the hospital that evening, the weight of my newfound responsibility presses on me like a heavy cloak. The sterile scent of the hospital lingers in my clothes, a stark reminder of the harsh realities that await outside its walls.

The drive back home is a somber one, the streetlights casting long shadows on the empty roads. The world outside seems oblivious to the turmoil within, and I find solace in the rhythmic hum of the engine, a mechanical heartbeat that echoes the fragility of life.

I won't be back at the job site. I'll have to fill in for my brother at work. Will I be able to see you when I'm back at school?

How's your brother?

Stable. That's all I know

I'm sorry, Brock. I wish there was something I could do

Talking helps

For the next few hours, Layla and I text back and forth. It is a good distraction from everything that is happening. When I can't keep my eyes open any longer I finally succumb to sleep.

Get some sleep, I'll text you in the morning

***

The following days blur into a relentless routine of hospital visits and work at the office. The contrast between the sterile environment of the hospital and the bustling activity at the office is disorienting. It"s a juggling act, one that requires me to compartmentalize my emotions and to wear different masks depending on where I am.

At the office, I immerse myself in the tasks at hand, the familiar rhythm of daily operations providing a semblance of normalcy. The phone calls, the meetings, the endless stream of emails – they become a distraction, a shield against the looming specter of Chaz"s condition. But no matter how deeply I bury myself in work, the image of my brother lying in the hospital bed persists, a haunting presence in the recesses of my mind.

I've reached out to Layla several times throughout the day, but she doesn't reply to my text messages. Instead of going through as iMessages like normal, they're turning green.

That's odd. Did she block me?

As I head back to my parent's house for the night, my phone starts vibrating. Coach J's number pops up on the screen.

"Hey Coach," I greet him.

"Hey Brock, how's your brother?"

"He's stable. Not much has changed."

"Stable is a positive though."

"Yeah. How's everything going there? I tried texting Eric but he hasn't replied. I guess you're working them pretty hard."

He's quiet on the other end. "You haven't heard?"

My stomach drops. "Haven't heard what?"

"Eric's sister was involved in a hit and run late last night."

"What? Is she… is she okay?"

I want to vomit.

I close my eyes and beg for her to be okay.

"She's in a coma right now. It's pretty bad."

"What happened?"

"She went out to the beach for a walk, she was walking on the sidewalk on her way back and a car plowed her over. Left her for dead. Someone called Eric to tell him that she wasn't in her bed this morning when we all got up. It took us two hours to find her."

"Oh my God," I breathe.

I close my eyes and try to remain calm. "Where is she now?"

"Mount Desert Island, she hasn't been stable enough for them to send her anywhere else."

"I'll try calling Eric. This is horrible. I feel like I should be there."

"You can't be here. You need to be there with your brother. Eric understands that. Take care of you and your family, I'll keep you posted about Layla."

"Thanks, Coach."

I leave my parent's house and go to the hospital to check on my brother.

In the hospital, Chaz remains in a state of suspended animation, a silent figure in a room filled with the rhythmic sounds of medical equipment.

"Hey Beth," I say quietly as I walk in to see her half asleep in the corner with my niece and nephew asleep in her lap.

"Hey Brock," she smiles.

Daisy, the youngest of the two wakes up and puts her arms out to me. She's only two but we've had a special bond since the first day I met her. I pick her up and she instantly snuggles into me.

"Any change?"

"There's brain activity. He moved his toes and his arm today. The doctor is hopeful that's all a good sign."

"It sounds like a good sign."

She nods and watches her husband sleep. "I just want him to wake up."

"We all do. He's a tough bastard, he'll be up harassing us all before the week's over."

"I hope so," she says. "What brings you here so late?"

"I couldn't sleep. I met this girl and… she's amazing. I got a phone call that said she was hurt bad and is in a hospital clinging on to life too."

"Oh Brock, I'm so sorry. That's a lot to carry."

"I'm not sure what to do with it."

"Tell me about her."

I sit in the room with Beth and the kids for about an hour, I fill her in on Layla and how amazing she is. It's a good distraction for both of us.

"Hey Beth, let me take the kids home to Mom and Dad's. That way they can sleep and you can get a break."

"You don't have car seats."

"I'll drive the mom van," I chuckle.

"Thanks, Brock. I appreciate you."

She hands me the keys to her van before carrying Davis out of the room behind Daisy and me. I take the kids home and get them settled in the room they share when they visit.

"Thanks for bringing them here. I'm not sure how you managed it, but I'm grateful. I've been trying to get Beth to let me help for days."

"She probably just needed to hit a certain point."

"I'm not saying I wouldn't have been the same way in her situation. I'm glad you're here, buddy."

I lean in and hug my mom before I disappear into my bedroom.

I stare up at the ceiling, my hands across my chest as I think about Layla and my brother. Both of their lives are hanging in the balance and I feel so helpless.

***

Over the next few days, I await updates from Eric or Coach, while pretending to work. Dad walks into my office with a giant smile on his face.

"Chaz is awake. He's good."

"He's good?"

"He can walk. He knows where he's at. Everything looks perfect according to Beth and the doctors."

"That's incredible."

"We've found someone to step up for Chaz for the next week, so if you want to go visit your brother and enjoy your time at home without having to clock in every day, then I'm fine with that."

"Thanks, Dad. I've got to be back at school on Monday, so that's perfect. I'm heading to the hospital now."

As I push open the door thirty minutes later, the familiar hum of medical equipment fills the room. Chaz lies on the hospital bed, the wires and tubes are gone. He's grinning from ear to ear as he holds Beth's hand while Daisy sits in his lap.

"Brock," he says, his voice raspy but filled with a warmth that pierces through the clinical silence of the room. "Took you long enough to get here. What took you so long?"

I"m momentarily frozen, the shock of hearing his voice after weeks of silence leaving me speechless. Then, a grin breaks across my face, mirroring his. "You really know how to make an entrance, don"t you?"

He chuckles, the sound echoing in the room. "Always been the charming one in the family."

I pull up a chair beside his bed, the excitement in the room palpable. "Man, I thought I"d lost you there for a moment. How are you feeling?"

Chaz shrugs, the movement sending a cascade of beeping from the monitors. "Been better, been worse. But hey, at least I"ve got a front-row seat to the hospital drama."

I chuckle, relieved to see the lightness in his eyes. "You always did have a flair for the dramatic."

He grins. "Well, someone"s got to keep things interesting around here. Can"t have you getting too comfortable.

Beth here tells me that you found your person."

"She did, did she?" I laugh.

"Then why are you still here?"

"I…"

"Did you think I was going to be pissed because the black sheep of the family wasn't by my bedside?"

I laugh and shake my head. "This is where I needed to be."

"Nope. That's fear talking. Your ass needs to be in Maine at that hospital with your woman until she wakes up. What happens if she wakes up with amnesia and sees some other man's face and thinks he's the one."

I roll my eyes. "You watch too many Hallmark movies."

"And I'll continue to do so. Go. Go be with her."

"Thanks, Chaz," I murmur.

I stand up and lean down to hug my brother. I hug Beth and the kids and then I go straight home to get my things. I text my parents and let them both know what's going on and that I'm headed back to Maine to check on Layla.

The drive seems to stretch on forever, but I finally arrive at MDI. It's been three weeks since Chaz's and Layla's accident. Chaz is awake and I'm hoping the same will be said for Layla soon.

I call Eric's phone and he answers on the third ring.

"Hey, I'm at the hospital. What room are you in?"

"215."

My stomach drops. How is it possible that she's in the same room number my brother has been in?

"Okay, I'm on my way up."

"I'll meet you."

I walk into the hospital and toward the bank of elevators. Eric walks out of the elevator as I'm about to go in. We fist bump and hug.

"You didn't have to come, brother, but I'm glad you did."

"My best friend's little sister is family."

"How's Chaz?"

"Alive and kicking. Ornery as ever."

"That's good to hear," he smiles.

"Any updates?"

"No. They believe she's not paralyzed at least. But they really won't know a lot until she wakes up. If she wakes up."

"You can't use the if word. I know it's hard, but you have to stay positive. Did they catch the bastard that did this to her?"

"No. I think… I think she hooked up with someone while we were there and that's why she was out late."

"What? Why do you think that?"

"I don't know how to explain it. She was just different that day you left. I hadn't ever seen her that happy, she was glowing. One of the girls said she left the night before and came back late then too, it's why she waited so long to tell me Layla didn't come back."

"You think one of our teammates did this to her?"

"I don't want to think that but… what else can I think right now?"

"You're distracting yourself from the problem."

"Maybe," he shrugs as he shakes his head. "If I find out someone slept with my sister on this trip, I will kill them. What if they saw it happened and left her there to die?"

"I don't think that's the case. No one is capable of it."

"I don't know what to think."

"How are your parents?"

"Still hopeful. The doctors are hopeful."

"Are you going back to school Monday?"

"No, Coach has it worked out that I can do all my classes remotely for now so that I can graduate on time."

"Did you call the Bruins and let them know what's going on?"

"They already knew. They saw it in the paper and reached out to me. Told me to take my time and take care of my family."

"Good."

"I'll take you up. My parents will be happy to see you."

Eric gestures for me to follow and I do. We walk into Layla's hospital room a few minutes later and it takes everything in me not to fall to my knees.

That vibrant sassy woman I met last month is hooked up to tubes and wires and looks like a very pale, frail version of herself.

My heart shatters.