And then their forms collide, Ryke’s silhouette shoving Connor roughly. Something clatters to the floor while Connor defends himself, pushing Ryke back. My heart races, especially as an elbow or arm whacks into the curtain. I can’t see a thing, really.
I’m mostly surprised that Connor doesn’t talk Ryke down.
He’s letting Lo’s brother attack him this once. The more aggressive shadow pins the other into the wall, both breathing heavily.
“I trusted him,” Connor says in a low voice.
“You can’t trust a fucking alcoholic,” Ryke growls.
“I trusted my friend,”
Connor retorts. “I see him every day, Ryke. If I knew about the allegations, I would’ve never kept him out of my sight.”
“You know what I fucking think?” Ryke asks, fuming. “I think you get off being the superhero to my brother. I think you like the way he looks at you—like you’re invulnerable. While he stands beneath you, weak, looking for guidance and you take advantage of all of that—”
“Stop,” Connor says forcefully, and I can see his chest rising.
“Tell me that I’m wrong,” Ryke says. “Tell me that you’re not destroying him.”
“I love him,” Connor says with so much conviction. “I would never intentionally harm Lo.”
The door suddenly swings open, and the guys immediately separate.
I hear the clap of heels. Rose stops midway into the room.
“If I interrupted something, then maybe you two should realize that you’re fighting in front of my little sister. She has fucking ears, you know.” Rose has dropped more f-bombs today than usual. I almost wonder if Ryke is rubbing off on her. She flings the curtain aside, and everyone looks at me.
Dried tears, my hand clasped in Lo’s. I’m just waiting, is all.
Rose has four coffees in a carton, and she marches over, passing me one. “Dr. Banning wanted me to ask if you’ve been thinking about sex at all.”
My therapist. I talked to her a little bit ago. My cheeks redden, and my eyes flicker to both Connor and Ryke who stand unwaveringly at the foot of the bed.
“No,” I whisper. I’ve been sad, and usually I cope with sex.
Not this time. I’ve suppressed most thoughts about orgasms, about that rush that would take me away from here. “Lo has been there for me for so many months.” Saying the words out loud makes them unbearably real. “I want to be strong for him.” It’s my turn now. I’m ready for it.
“I’m proud of you, Lily,” Rose tells me, even giving me a smile. When she turns back towards the guys, they both reach out to collect their coffees. She tucks the carton tray to her chest. “No coffee for either of you. Not until you stop fighting over something that is no one’s fault.”
“Rose is right,” I say softly. “Lo wouldn’t want you both to argue about this.” He’d blame himself if he woke up and heard Connor and Ryke going at it.
They all asked me if the allegations were true. We heard about them around the same time the doctors began pumping his stomach. I said no. I can’t even, for a second, believe they’re true. Lo would’ve told me.
Rose and Ryke seemed doubtful. And it hurt me to think that our own friends, his brother, may never believe the truth. We’re both known liars. It’s hard to accept anything we say as fact. So I understand, but it doesn’t hurt any less.
Everyone stays in the room, taking the day off of work while I skip all my college assignments. I don’t join them on the couch. I just hold Lo’s hand while he sleeps.
An hour passes before he finally stirs. His eyelids slowly open, and he blinks a few times to orient himself. Connor, Rose, and Ryke leave the room before he even wakes fully, afraid their presences will overwhelm him.
It’s just Lo and me.
When he finally turns his head to see me, there is something so vitally heartbreaking about those amber swirls. We’ve been in this place before. Him on a hospital bed. Me on the chair. I do what I did when we were teenagers. I pass him a glass of water.
He shakes his head slowly and says, “Lie next to me.”
I set the water on the small tray table and climb onto the wide bed. His arms wrap around me before mine tuck around his chest, tangled up in a few wires. Our legs intertwine, sufficiently embraced and connected together.
It’s quiet, and we listen to each other’s breaths for a few minutes.
“Lo,” I whisper, my fingers making circles on his black shirt. “I just want you to know that if you leave this world, I won’t be in it for much longer.” He’s a piece of me. You cut it off, and it’s like going through life with no lungs.