“Well...technically I’m supposed to check a few more things, but I guess I can do that with them in here. I’m sure they’re hurting.”
“Thank you, we really appreciate it,” I say with a smile.
“Thanks.” Quinn squeezes my arm. “He’ll realize what he just did. He needs you here.” She points with her thumb back toward the room. I shake my head back and forth, not wanting to talk about the way Jace just delivered my shattered heart back to me on a silver platter.
“When do you plan on telling Cole he’s going to be a daddy?” I ask, rubbing her stomach.
She sighs and replaces my hand with hers when I move away. “I was going to do it tonight after we went to bed, but I can’t do it now. Hopefully this guy,” she points at Jaxon, “plans on waking up soon so I can tell everyone.”
“Understandable. Just know that I’m happy for you. You guys are going to be wonderful parents.”
“Don’t talk like that, Audrey. You’re speaking as if we aren’t going to see each other again. You aren’t going anywhere. You two aren’t done,” she states adamantly, grabbing a hold of my hand.
I don’t know what is going to happen anymore. A few hours ago, I was so sure of everything. Now the wind has been taken out my sails and my feet have been knocked out from under me. I can understand worrying and being in pain, but this was a side of Jace I’ve never seen before. And I hate that at the first sign of distress, he shoved me away. I squeeze Quinn’s hand with a sad smirk and walk away without a word. There is nothing left to be said. Now all I can do is hope Jaxon makes it through this.
I race to the emergency room waiting area to try and beat the tears that are threatening to come. I just need to find Lane so I can go home. When I hit the double doors, I stumble out in my haste. Moving farther away from Jace is physically excruciating. I know he’s in pain. All I want to do is hold his hand and that’s the last thing he wants from me. I can hardly breathe by the time I see Lane, who is sitting in a chair facing the doors. When he finally spots me, he charges toward me and catches me before I can crash to my knees.
“Doll?” he gasps. “No...no...is it Jaxon?”
“No, yes. No. He’s alive. I just need to get out of here,” I blurt out.
“I need you to tell me what’s wrong first, love.”
“Jace doesn’t want me here.”
His voice flattens and in a deadly calm tone he asks, “Why do you say that?”
“I just want to go home, Lane.”
He wraps his arm around my shoulders and half leads, half carries me out of the ER. As we exit the sliding doors, I hear him mumble under his breath, “I’m going to kill that asshole...”
When Quinn leaves the room shortly after Audrey, no one speaks to me. I don’t blame them. But right now I could give a fuck because all I can think about right now is my brother. In the corner of my eye, I see Cole get up to comfort Em and ask if she needs anything. Em isn’t talking to any of us though, not unless it’s about Jax.
I begin to pace the room. We’re all getting antsy waiting in this stupid, depressing, cream-colored room. How can they ask people to sit in here for so long? It really is a prison, except they know you won’t leave so bars aren’t necessary. The door finally opens and all three of us immediately look to see who’s coming in. When it’s only Quinn, Em and I let out a deflated breath.
Cole rushes over to her and she squeezes him tightly, kisses his cheek, and then pushes off of him.
“Audrey convinced the nurse to let us in to see him,” she murmurs, while making her way back to the door.
“Oh, thank God. I knew I loved that girl.” Em quickly rushes out into the hallway.
“Is she still out there?” I ask. At this point, I don’t know if I’m asking because I don’t want to see her or because I hope she didn’t really leave.
Quinn rolls her eyes and pushes by me. “Don’t worry, she followed your orders.”
Anytime he’s sick, I’m always right there next to him, feeling all of the same symptoms. This whole night I’ve been waiting for our freaky twin vibe to kick in. Give me a headache or any kind of pain. Give me something that lets me feel connected to him. I feel nothing. Absolutely nothing. I feel like I’ve lost him. I can’t believe I ever complained about being a twin. I never wanted this.
Two doors away from the waiting room, we walk into Jaxon’s large, noisy room. There are machines beeping and people talking. They all sound far away, as if I am standing at one end of a tunnel and my brother is lying unconscious at the other end. Em holds his hand and drapes herself across him with her head on his chest. He would like that. He would want her next to him as much as possible. Cole snags a chair, pulls Quinn onto his lap, and they both stare at him. I’m pretty sure we’re all staring at him and thinking the same thing.
My mom eventually comes barreling in the room, dragging her suitcase and bags. Shit, I should have gone and gotten her. She didn’t need to lug all of her stuff around. But I don’t even know where my car is at the moment. It probably got towed from the hospital entrance. And Jaxon’s truck...is still at the stadium, where he left it. Fuck, I hate this shit.
“Oh, my poor baby,” mom cries from the doorway.
She rushes to Jaxon’s bedside, across from where Em is sitting, and hugs him while patting Em on the back. Mom’s little body can barely reach around his larger one, but she manages to squeeze as much of herself around him as possible. Not exactly easy since Em still hasn’t moved her head from Jaxon’s chest. I keep hearing her speak to him quietly, but I haven’t been able to decipher what she’s saying.
This can’t be good for her though. Em’s reason for not letting anyone get close to her in the first place was due to the fact that she was afraid of them either cheating or dying. Just another reason Jaxon has to make it through this. He would be leaving behind too many unsalvageable pieces.
“Cole, bless your heart. Thank you for calling me, darling boy,” Mom weeps and pulls him in for a smothering hug. Shortly after we got in here, Quinn passed out on his lap again. Cole tries to hold on to his girlfriend and hug my mom at the same time. Mom just pats her on the head and whispers a few more sentiments to him.
She makes her way back to the hospital bed and wraps herself around Em. “Oh, you poor soul. I’m so sorry this is happening to you.” She runs her fingers through Em’s golden hair and kisses her on the cheek. These two have gotten incredibly close this past year. I often hear Em on the phone with her, and anytime I’m talking to mom, she always asks about my dating life and then how Em is doing.
Without raising her head, I hear Em’s upbeat voice pronounce, “It’s fine. He’s going to be fine. He wouldn’t just leave like this. He just needs time. He’s fine.” There’s something off about her tone. Something too cheery. It’s almost as if she’s trying to convince herself more than us.
Mom whispers in her ear and then turns and finally faces me. She opens her arms and says, “Come here, Jace. You aren’t handling this well, are you?” I don’t say anything because I can’t cry in front of everyone. I just move into her arms and lift her up in a hug. “He’ll be okay, love,” she whispers in my ear.
The next three days float by like this, all of us just sitting around staring at Jaxon’s eyelids. Coach comes by a couple of times each day to check on his progress. Players from his team filter in and out. Quinn and Cole decide to continue attending classes, so they come by before and after. I haven’t spoken to Em and she hasn’t said anything to me. I know my mom can feel the tension in the room, but thankfully she hasn’t asked about it.
On Wednesday, Max knocks on the door and steps inside. Em doesn’t even lift her head from Jaxon’s chest. When she’s up, she’s unusually cheery and perky. She floats around the room, cleaning and straightening items that don’t need it. I’ve yet to see her look upset and she hasn’t even cried. I’m not sure if that’s healthy. Aren’t girls supposed to cry in times like this? But pushing away the people you love isn’t exactly healthy either. Audrey...fuck, I miss her.
“Hey man, how’s it going?” Max asks, while handing me two to-go bags from a local fast food joint.
“Same,” I pinch out.
“His scans are looking better. The swelling has gone down a bit,” mom elaborates for me.
