Chapter 38 – Alise #4
For a beat, no one moves. The words hang in the sterile air, heavy enough to make my stomach lurch. Then Auntie Mel steps forward, her hand finding mine in a grip that’s all steel wrapped in trembling.
“We are,” she says firmly, her chin lifting. “He’s our family.”
The doctor nods, his tone steady but softer now, like he knows we’ve all been holding our breath.
“He stabilized after medication. His heart was beating fast and irregular, but we’ve slowed it down.
He’s breathing on his own, his blood pressure is holding, and he’s responding.
He’s not out of the woods, but for now, he’s okay. ”
The words hit like a rush of air after being underwater too long.
A collective exhale ripples down the hallway.
Michele presses a fist to her mouth, her shoulders sagging.
Cole drags a hand down his face, whispering something that sounds like Thank God.
Auntie Mel bows her head, squeezing my hand so tightly my knuckles ache, but I cling right back.
My own knees wobble, relief crashing through me so hard it feels like my bones can’t hold it.
I press my free hand to the wall, fighting to stay upright as my chest heaves with the first real breath I’ve taken since he fell.
The ache behind my eyes burns hot, but I don’t care. He’s here. He’s still here.
“Can I see him?” The question rips out of me before I can stop it, raw and shaky.
The doctor studies me for a moment, then nods. “Briefly. He’s sedated and still being monitored, but you can sit with him. One at a time, please.”
Relief shatters something in me, messy and overwhelming, but I nod quickly, swallowing the tears that blur my vision. Auntie Mel’s grip never falters, her palm damp against mine, her silent promise holding me together as the weight of fear finally eases.
Auntie Mel’s hand squeezes mine once more, her nails biting just slightly into my skin. Her eyes shine damp, but her voice comes out steady. “Go on, baby,” she murmurs, giving my hand a squeeze that anchors me in place. “He’s waiting on you.”
My throat closes, but I nod. My legs feel like they belong to someone else as I step forward, the curtain brushing my arm as I slip inside.
The beeping is the first thing I register.
Slow. Steady. Not the erratic, terrifying stutter it was before.
The oxygen mask fogs slightly with each breath he drags in, pale condensation marking proof of life.
He’s propped just a little on the gurney, wires trailing from his chest to the monitor, an IV taped at his arm.
His skin is too pale, damp along his temples, but his chest rises and falls, rhythmic, certain.
Relief crashes over me so hard I sway, the world tilting until I have to brace my elbow on the bed. I drag the nearest stool closer, my hands shaking as I lower myself beside him. My fingers find his hand—warm now, solid—and I cradle it in both of mine, pressing my forehead against the back of it.
“You scared the hell out of me,” I breathe, the confession shaking loose from under my ribs. “Don’t ever do that again.”
For a moment, nothing. Just the machines, the hiss of oxygen, and the ache of my own breath fighting to steady. Then, so faint I almost think I imagined it, his fingers twitch against mine.
“Lisey?” His voice is faint, but it cuts right through me.
“I’m right here. You stay with me, okay?” Tears spill hot and fast down my cheeks as I press his hand tighter to my face. “You keep fighting. I don’t care how stubborn you are. You don’t get to let go.”
His eyes don’t fully open, but there’s the barest shift under his lids like he’s trying. His hand gives the smallest clumsy squeeze against mine before slipping lax again. It’s not much, but it’s enough to keep me rooted here, enough to make me believe he’s not letting go.
I sit with him like that, forehead pressed to his hand, tears dampening my skin, letting the steady beeping of the monitor become the only sound I trust.
Beau’s lashes barely stir when I lean close, his breathing slow and shallow under the steady hiss of oxygen.
Whatever fight had flickered in him earlier is gone now, sleep pulling him under hard and fast. My chest aches at the sight, but I press my lips to his damp forehead anyway, letting the warmth of his skin ground me.
“You rest,” I whisper, my voice catching on the words. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”
I brush my thumb once across the back of his hand, then force myself to let go.
The stool scrapes softly as I stand, every step toward the door heavier than the last. The hallway is cooler, quieter, but the moment I see Auntie Mel waiting just outside, heat floods through me.
Michele’s at her side, one arm wrapped across her stomach like she’s holding herself together, and Cole leans against the wall, jaw tight and eyes dark.
“You knew, didn’t you, Auntie Mel?” I say, the words raw and jagged in my throat. “About Beau having lupus. You’ve known this whole time.”
Auntie Mel doesn’t flinch, but her shoulders dip as though I’ve hit her where it hurts.
“Baby girl…” Her voice trails off, thick with something that sounds like regret.
Michele exhales sharply, her hand dropping from her mouth. “Wait—you really did know? And none of us…?”
Her shock mirrors mine, sharp and splintering. My skin prickles like I’ve been doused in ice water, every nerve alive with disbelief. I can feel the sting of tears, but fury pushes them back.
Cole pushes off the wall, his voice harder, edged with disbelief. “When were you going to say something? After he collapsed in front of us?”
His anger collides with mine, practically doubling it. My stomach knots so tight I almost fold in half, the force of it clawing its way up my throat. My nails dig crescents into my palms, my body vibrating with the need to scream loud enough to break something.
Auntie Mel’s eyes shine, but she steadies her chin. “It wasn’t my information to tell. It was Beau’s choice when to tell everyone, and he wasn’t ready.”
Her answer only fans the fire in my chest. The words blur as my vision heats, fury turning the edges of the hallway red.
I pace two steps forward, then back, air sawing sharp in and out of my lungs like I cannot get enough of it.
My whole body shakes with the urge to grab her shoulders and make her feel even a fraction of what is tearing through me.
“So you let us all walk around blind while he carried this alone?” My voice shakes as hard as my hands.
Michele shakes her head, tears slipping free. “God, Mel…”
The sound of her crying guts me, hot pressure building behind my eyes until the hallway tilts. I bite the inside of my cheek hard enough to taste blood, desperate for anything to keep me steady. Because if I start sobbing now, I’ll never stop.
Cole’s fists clench at his sides, and for a moment, he can’t even look at her. “You thought staying silent was better than us knowing how bad it was?”
The hallway hums with his rage, and it thrums in my bones, too, vibrating through every inch of me.
My breath shakes, shallow and trembling, like my body cannot decide if it wants to collapse or combust. Auntie Mel takes it, every word, every accusation, her lips pressing into a thin line.
She looks older all of a sudden, weighed down, but she doesn’t back away.
“I thought I was protecting him,” she says finally, her voice low, breaking.
The anger in me flickers, messy and dangerous, tangled up with something closer to grief.
My chest feels hollow and too full all at once, like there’s no space left for air.
Protection. That word makes me want to shatter something.
Because he is lying upstairs unconscious, and I would have carried every ounce of his pain if only he’d let me.
“He should have told me,” I say, the words jagged and loud in the too-bright hallway. “God, he should have told me.”
Auntie Mel shifts beside me, her gaze cutting toward Beau’s room before returning to me. “Sweetheart, it’s not always that simple.”
“How long have you been holding on to this secret while the rest of us had no idea?”
She hesitates, just a flicker, but it erupts inside me. My pulse spikes, fury crashing up my throat until I can taste it. “Don’t you dare stand there and act like it’s nothing,” I snap. “Tell me everything you know. All of it.”
Her hand hovers like she might reach for me, but I jerk back before she can touch me.
My nails dig crescents into my palms, stinging.
“How could you keep this from me?” My voice wavers, fury and disbelief tangling until I can barely separate them.
“I’ve been here. Every day. He’s had plenty of time to say something, and still, he didn’t. ”
“It wasn’t my place—” she begins, but I cut her off.
“That’s not good enough.” The snap in my voice is almost a growl, my whole body leaning toward her like I’m bracing for a fight. “You tell the people who—” My voice cracks hard, and my gaze drops to the floor as the words burn their way out. “You tell the people who love you.”
“So he’s been carrying this alone? And we were right there, all of us—” Michele’s breath hitches as she breaks off, tears spilling before she can swipe them away.
“He’s my brother. My big brother. And you thought silence was better than letting us help him?” Cole’s fists clench at his sides, and his voice vibrates with anger that looks one second away from snapping.
“He was probably trying to protect all of you,” Auntie Mel says softly, but her words are swallowed by the sharp crack of my voice.
“We don’t need protection,” I bite out, too loud, too wild. My pulse hammers in my ears, my chest so tight I can’t take a full breath. “We need the truth. What if I hadn’t been there? What if—what if—” The words tangle in my throat, splintering into panic.
Auntie Mel grips my arm, steady and firm. “Stop. You are here now, and that’s what matters.”