Chapter 42

42

ZACH

I was restless and agitated as I sat in Drea's room, hoping she'd wake up before I had to leave. I couldn't explain this itchy feeling just below the surface of my skin, but it was making me feel a little unhinged.

Maybe it was exhaustion. After Jason and I returned to bed last night, I'd thought I'd be able to sleep, but every time I closed my eyes, those images from my dream—specifically the one of Jason unconscious and bleeding—had appeared, forcing my eyes to pop open once again. It felt like an omen. I'd never been superstitious, but they said bad things happened in threes, right? My mom had died in an accident. Drea had been badly injured. Would Jason be next?

The thought of Jason injured or dying was unbearable to contemplate. Was this what my father had been talking about? Loving someone so much that when you lost them, it fundamentally changed who you were? Changed your ability to move forward? Changed the way you interact with those you cared about?

Would I be able to bear it? I'd already lost my mom. Would I survive the loss of Jason?

It was this thought that had silent tears streaming down my face, soaking into my pillow, until I'd eventually cried myself to sleep. My dad's call had come in just a couple of hours later.

So here I sat, contemplating leaving in just a handful of hours, terrified to go and terrified to stay.

Movement from the bed caught my attention, and I looked up to see Drea's eyes flutter open as if it took all her strength to do so. She finally managed it, her eyes roaming the room and eventually landing on me. She couldn't speak while on the ventilator, but the corners of her mouth turned up in a weak smile as she continued to stare at me. I turned to look at Dad, wanting to make sure he'd noticed she was awake, and caught him watching her with a shaky smile.

I stood, taking a couple of cautious steps to get to her bedside, then turned back to look at Dad. "Can I touch her? Hold her hand?"

He nodded, and I turned back, watching in wonder as I took her hand in mine. Her skin was smooth, a little cool to the touch, and her grip loose, but her fingers curled ever so slightly around mine, making my smile widen.

"Hey," I said, a goofy grin spreading across my face.

Dad came around to the other side of the bed, taking her other hand in his and smiling, though I didn't miss the tears in his eyes as he did so.

"God, I've missed you so much," I said, swiping at my own tears. I had so much I wanted to tell her, but it was bottlenecked in my throat, and I couldn't get it out.

Her eyes continued to move around the room, flitting between Dad, me, and the machines she was connected to. Confusion and fear were in her eyes, and I gave her hand a careful squeeze, trying to reassure her that she was okay.

A nurse came in and began asking yes or no questions, trying to ascertain how aware she was of her surroundings and the reason for her being there. Shortly after, a doctor joined us, asking similar questions and checking the machine readouts. They assured us all that this was very good progress and they would take her for some scans shortly.

Dad stepped out of the room, saying he was going to call Aunt Amy, but I thought maybe he wanted to give us a moment alone, knowing I was leaving later today. Christ, the changes in him this week were drastic. It was as if the accident had unlocked the softer side of him, and while the idea of being thankful for the crash that had put my sister in the ICU was abhorrent, I could at least be grateful for this result. I felt like I had my father back, maybe more than ever before, and for the first time, there was a path forward to mending our relationship.

Drea looked tired, but when I asked her if she wanted me to let her rest, she gave a slight shake of her head, so I began talking, telling her about how close Jason and I had gotten this week, leaving out some of the more intimate details, and about how Dad and I had begun to talk through some things. I kept it light, giving her the bare bones of what had gone down, knowing that a detailed rundown would likely be too much for her to process. She lasted about ten minutes before her eyes closed again, but I was so grateful for the opportunity to see the light in her eyes before I had to leave.

I remained by her side, watching her sleep until Dad returned. He said Aunt Amy would try to make it into the city later in the afternoon, but he wasn't sure if she'd make it before I had to leave. I watched as Jason and his family made their way down the hall, Mandy being pushed in a wheelchair by a nurse with everyone else trailing behind. Jason smiled at me through the window, making my heart clench. Leaving him this afternoon was going to hurt more than I ever imagined it could.

Around eleven, I got a text from Jason asking if I wanted to grab lunch before heading to the airport. I was torn between wanting some time alone with him and wanting to see if Drea would wake up one more time. In the end, I decided I needed the time with Jason, especially knowing Drea would be taken for scans pretty soon anyway.

Dad walked me out of Drea's room into the hallway and pulled me into a hug. I thought back to the night I'd arrived at the hospital when I'd held him while he'd broken apart. We'd come a long way since then. It was hard to believe it had been less than a week.

"I love you," Dad said into my ear as we embraced, causing a lump in my throat.

"Love you too, Dad."

"I'm…trying, okay? Be patient with me."

I released him, pulling back to look into his eyes. "I know. And it means a lot. I'll work on not bottling stuff up anymore. Not letting it fester."

He chuckled. "That would probably help."

Jason approached, walking toward us from the waiting room. Dad nodded toward him, offering a small smile, before returning his attention to me. "You'll text when you get in?"

"I will."

He turned toward Jason, offering his hand to shake. "I'm glad he has you. You're good for him."

Jason's eyes widened in surprise. "Um, thanks," he said as they shook hands.

We wrapped up our goodbyes, and Jason and I headed for the elevator, walking hand-in-hand.