“No. I’m okay, really.” I opened my eyes. “Please, go to the waiting room, in case someone comes looking for you with news.”
She lifted her phone. “A friend of mine is there. She was with me when they called from the hospital. She’ll text me if they have news, or if anyone comes looking for me.”
“Okay.” I stared at the bag filling with dark red, deoxygenated, life-giving liquid draining from my vein. Why did it work so slowly, when every minute counted? Why couldn’t they just slash the vein and take more blood faster?
My mind was out of whack. I knew that. I was being irrational. With O negative blood, I was a universal donor. I could donate to anyone, regardless of their blood type, so I donated twice a year. The problem for me and Sebastian was that, while we could give to anyone, we could only receive our own specific blood type. I knew it had to be a slow process, to preserve the quality of the blood and the health of the donor. I didn’t care about the latter right now, and I understood the first, but my mind was fixed on one thing. How much blood had Sebastian lost, and how much time did he have left?
I looked at Janine. “Can you tell me what happened?”
She shifted on the small, rigid chair. “I don’t know much. The hospital called about an hour ago and told me my brother had been in an accident. I asked where he was, and they told me to come here. They didn’t even tell me whether he was alive or dead.”
A sob caught in her throat, and she paused, pressing a fist against her mouth. Her knuckles were bone-white. I tried to reach out with my free hand, but I couldn’t. She noticed my gesture, moved her chair closer, and clasped my hand in hers.
We sat in silence, drawing comfort and strength from each other. Although we had our differences, all that was forgotten in this moment, when our love for Sebastian bonded us.
She cleared her throat. “I asked my friend, Kim, to drive me here. We found the ER doctor taking care of Sebastian. He said Sebastian was pretty banged up. He wasn’t sure about the levelof damage, since they needed to do an MRI, but before they could do that, they had to stop the bleeding and replace some of the blood he lost. Once they transfuse him, they’ll need to operate and repair the femoral artery. The doctor believes he has several broken ribs and that his left shoulder is either broken or dislocated. Once he’s stable, they’ll know more.”
I closed my eyes again. Nausea washed over me, and I gripped Janine’s fingers tighter. I was surprised by how weak my grip was.
“That sounds really bad.” I moistened my cracked lips.
Janine squeezed my hand in return. Her skin was as cold and clammy as mine. “I know, but the doctor said there was good news, too. Sebastian wore his helmet, and he was conscious and coherent when they brought him in. There’s a good chance he didn’t sustain a head injury, at least not a severe one.”
“He’s always had a hard head. Idiot! I told him not to ride that motorcycle. He only did it today because he wanted to see where I was working. He needed a ride back to work, and then home. This is all my fault.”
I started to cry. I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I didn’t care if Janine saw me collapse and turn into a sobbing mess. I couldn’t stop crying. My soul was being torn apart, as broken as Sebastian’s body was, bleeding, suffering, and in horrible pain.
“Jesse, please, stop crying.” Janine held my hand in both of hers. “It wasn’t your fault. Sebastian has had that damned motorcycle since high school. I couldn’t stop him from riding it, though God knows I tried. This could’ve happened at any time.”
“But it didn’t. It happened today, and it happened because of me.”
“It’s just a coincidence that it happened today. Statistics say there are over two hundred motorcycle accidents in the US every day. It was only a matter of time before Sebastian had one.If anything, he stopped riding the damn thing when you guys started dating.”
“But he rode it today and became a statistic.”
My voice was flat. The storm of emotions had drained me. I was afraid to ask how many of those accidents resulted in fatalities. I’d already lost a loved one to a motorcycle accident. I remembered calling Jake over and over that day, wanting to hang out. He’d been at a party I’d skipped. When his mom finally answered his phone late that afternoon, her voice broke as she told me what had happened. I was too young to understand at first. It took weeks before I accepted Jake wasn’t coming back.
Now I knew all too well what death meant.
“Janine, if Sebastian dies—”
I stopped. I couldn’t think beyond that possibility. That terrifying thought was a wall in my mind. All I could do was think of the things we might not get to do. Visit Europe, watch Robin grow, get old together... I’d never told him I loved him.
Why hadn’t I done that? My fears seemed trivial now. Why did it take moments like this to realize what was truly precious in life, and how much it meant to act on your feelings? It was true what they said about never appreciating something until you lost it. If I lost him, I was lost. Forever. I couldn’t live without him. Life would have no meaning without his smile, his laughter, his arms around me, his solid chest under my cheek.
Janine gripped my hand harder. “Sebastian won’t die.”
“I can’t imagine life without him. It’s inconceivable. Simply not worth living.”
I didn’t realize I’d spoken aloud until she reached out and brushed a tear away from my temple. The pillowcase was soaked with my despair.
“You really love my brother, don’t you?”
I swallowed, my swollen eyes meeting hers. “I really do. I can’t lose him.”
She pressed a hand against my cheek. “We won’t. My God, you’re so cold and pale. I’ll get you a sandwich. Why the hell didn’t you have lunch?”
“I got... interrupted.” I glanced away. It all seemed unimportant now, and incredibly remote, as though it had happened to someone else.
