I didn’t want to have this kid, who was probably going through hell, see me cry, but as my bottom lip trembled, a hand wrapped around my bicep. I looked to the side, only to see Andrew with glossy eyes and flaring nostrils.
“Don’t stop, Noah. Trust me, you don’t want to stop before we reach her room.”
I wasn’t sure if I nodded or if he just dragged me away before I could collapse right there at the reception area. I tried to tune out the noises, the kids crying, and the wailing of a woman hunched next to the wall.
Before today, hospitals weren’t places where I felt like I was trying to catch my breath, but today… Today I saw what devastation looked like. A man stood by her, rubbing circles on her back while her body shook from the force of her sobs.
“My God,” I said out loud, earning another sad look from Andrew.
“It’s hard, isn’t it?” he asked. “Seeing all of this. Seeing that all those things we usually complain about are nothing compared to this. The first time we brought Sophie for a checkup, I had to run outside, crying like a little baby. I cried for all these people fighting the battle that had no end. I cried for all of us—the families, the friends that had to watch our loved ones go through something like this—you know? I thought I knew hardship and pain, but everything I went through so far, dude, it had nothing on this.”
“I—I just…” I trailed off, keeping my eyes to the front, trying to avoid seeing anything else. “I didn’t know.” My voice broke. “God, I didn’t know.”
“She didn’t want you to know. Nobody knew, Noah. She wanted us to keep quiet about it.”
“But why?” I asked, suddenly angry. Not at her, not at the fact that she didn’t tell me, but at the unfairness of all of this.
Why were some people destined for things like this? Why would destiny, a God, or whatever you believed in, take young people so soon? Where was the justice in that?
What was the fucking reason?
“Why, what?”
“Why wouldn’t she tell us?”
“Because she didn’t want you to look at her like she was dying.” It felt as if he slapped me. “She wanted you guys to look at her as if she was more than this broken and sick person. She’s still Sophie, you know. She’s still the girl you love.”
“I don’t—”
“Don’t lie to me, Noah. Something happened between the two of you. I don’t care, but it’s obvious that what you feel for her is more than just friendship. I don’t look at my friends the way you look at her.”
I had no idea what to say. I couldn’t deny it, but I couldn’t exactly tell him that I had wanted his sister for years. It felt inappropriate to talk about it with him.
“We’re here,” Andrew announced just as we came to the end of the hallway. “My parents aren’t here at the moment. They went to the hotel to change and take a nap. She’s sleeping, but you’re more than welcome to stay as long as you want to. I have a feeling that you won’t be going home tonight.”
“I-I… Thank you.” Words weren’t enough to tell him how I felt, and even that simple thank-you felt like too little for what he just did.
“It’s okay, Noah. I saw you sitting there in that car of yours, and I knew that look on your face. I looked the same when I drove all the way to the hospital after my mom called me. I wished that I had somebody with me, because it would’ve felt much easier walking through those doors and to Sophie’s room.”
“Does it get easier? Walking through that door?”
He stood silent for a second, turning his head to look at the ceiling. “I thought it would,” he answered. “I thought I could be strong for her, strong for my family, but every time she’s here, it feels as if the world around me suddenly lost all its light. It doesn’t get easier, but I guess that in a way, you get used to it. You get used to this smell. You get used to the monitors beeping, children crying, and parents rushing out of the rooms, trying to hide their own tears.”
My heart hammered with each word he uttered.
“Look, Noah… I’ve known you since you were a kid. We practically grew up together as well. I don’t have to tell you that’s my little sister in there. I like you, but I won’t hesitate to punch you in your face if you make her cry again.”
“Again?”
“You can be really daft sometimes.” He chuckled. “Go inside, please. I’m gonna get myself some coffee. Call me if you need anything.”
She was crying because of me?
Of course she was crying, you fucking idiot. What did you expect? That she was going to be happy when you broke all contact?
I shook my hand, showing an imaginary middle finger to my ugly subconscious mind, and took a step forward to the white door withRoom 801written in black, block letters.
The door seemed to grow with each passing second, and my breathing changed from the calm one I had just a minute ago, to a choppy, irregular one.
