43. Chapter 43
Chapter 43
Guilt and Blame
Nothing could have prepared him for the phone call he received that morning. It was his mam. He barely recognized the quiet, agonized voice on the other end. There had been an accident, and Orlagh was in the hospital. His mom could barely speak. He knew it was bad. He was already back out to his car before hanging up with her.
Lachlan headed straight for the hospital. Fear gripped him like cold, hard steel. It was more than he could take. He couldn’t lose another sister. He wouldn’t lose her. It brought back memories and pain that he tried so hard to keep at bay.
When he arrived at the hospital, the first person he saw was Drew. Lachlan was taken aback. He didn’t expect to see his delinquent brother there. He stood with his back leaning against the pale green hospital wall, his arms crossed, arrogant and serious.
Lachlan was already reeling. He didn’t know how to face Drew on top of everything else. He couldn’t handle his brother’s anger, his judgment.
Drew noted Lachlan’s arrival. They eyed each other without saying a word. Alex stood beside Drew, a near carbon copy stance—leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. Although, unlike Drew, he was staring down at the floor as if he wished it would open up and take him away.
Their mam and da stood from waiting room chairs when they saw Lachlan. His mam ran up to him and wrapped her arms around him in a sob.
“Och, Lachlan,” she cried into his shirt.
He held her close, with his heart breaking. His da patted him on the back. His whole demeanour was racked with pain.
“What’s going on? What’s happening?” Lachlan’s voice was choked.
Drew’s voice was calm and even. “She’s in surgery right now.” He took a deep breath, avoiding Lachlan’s eyes. “She stepped off the curb, and a lorrie came charging around the bend.” His voice caught, and he looked up to the ceiling as if that would stop the tears from falling from his eyes.
“I’m gonna lock that fucker up and throw away the key,” Alex growled from the corner of the room.
"Language, Alex," his mother scolded him, the habit so misplaced at a time like this.
“Ye were there?” Lachlan stated, looking back at Drew as realization dawned.
“Aye,” he said with a deadly calm, but he couldn’t hide the anguish on his face.
Lachlan was stunned.
“There was nothing Drew could huv done, Lachlan,” his mother interjected, like she felt the need to defend him. “It all happened so quickly.”
Lachlan felt hollow, and at the same time, iron squeezed his ribs from the inside. He struggled to think straight. He just wanted to know that his sister was going to be okay.
“What are her injuries? Is she going to be all right?” Lachlan asked, doing his best to keep his composure.
“We dinnae ken all the details yet,” his da answered. “All we ken is that she was bleeding internally." His voice cracked, and Lachlan's chest hollowed deeper. “They are trying to help her, lad.”
Lachlan put an arm around his da, wishing he could comfort him.
They sat agonizing in silence as time crept by. Pacing. Waiting. Silence. Fear. Denial. Hope. It was terrible. Memories of another tragedy the family had already suffered through washed anew. Lachlan didn’t want to think about Helena, but his mind paralleled then and now like a two-lane treacherous race track.
It was more than memories. It felt as if the emotions, the experience, the pain were all being relived. The guilt that never fully went away surfaced again. It clawed at Lachlan now like a beast that had awoken. Reminding himself he wasn’t to blame for Helena’s death didn’t help.
He glanced over at his brother. Pain and worry etched Drew's features. He could blame Drew for what they were all going through now. But that was not what Lachlan felt toward his brother. As he looked at Drew, he vividly recalled the years of blame that he had endured. Drew had been so angry and had held a grudge against Lachlan ever since Helena’s death. He hurled all his fury at Lachlan and then finally silence and distance. He was back now, and although they had a run-in with each other, Lachlan didn’t truly know what his brother felt for him now—if anything.
What Lachlan realized, though, was that he didn't blame Drew, and that surprised him. Lachlan knew that Drew couldn’t have done anything. He knew exactly what Drew was feeling. He’d felt it like a molten knife in his gut all those years ago. Guilt. The what-ifs. They could make you go insane. He could see it on his brother's face, in the hunch of his shoulders. No, Lachlan didn’t blame Drew. He empathized with him.
Lachlan realized as clear as day. If Drew could have changed the situation, prevented what happened, there was no doubt he would have. If he had any power, any chance of saving Orlagh from a horrible fate, he wouldn’t have hesitated. They might not see eye to eye, but Lachlan knew without a shadow of a doubt that Drew loved his family, despite everything.
The truth was, what had happened was out of his control. He couldn't have done anything, or he would have, plain and simple. Accidents happened. Shit happened. And Lachlan knew his family had had their fair share of shit happening, but here they were, helpless to change it.
Lachlan took a fortifying breath and, for the first time, felt a little lighter. All the words people had tried to reassure him with, comfort him with, over the years, fell on deaf ears. But this? Suddenly, Lachlan got it. He understood the truth. He couldn’t have saved Helena either, because if he could have, he would have a thousand times over. But there was nothing he could have done. It was beyond him, out of his control.
It was like something finally clicked into place. Lachlan might have felt a sense of relief, but the current situation left no room for such emotions. Right now, he was afraid and feeling a desperate begging hope.
“Mr. and Mrs. Mackenzie?” A women's voice broke the silence. “I’m Doctor Chalmers.”
Lachlan’s da stood up, his hand on his mam's shoulder to support himself as much as to give her comfort.
“Orlagh is out of surgery. She was in pretty rough shape, but fortunately, we were able to stop the bleeding. She’s resting now. It’s probably best if ye try and get some rest as well.
“Is she going to be okay?” his da asked. His voice was tight with pent-up emotion and fear.
“Well, as I said, we’ve stopped the bleeding, so that is good. But it is early yet. We will be monitoring her closely. We’ve done all we can for now. Now it’s up to her to fight.”
The reality of the situation felt like a dull ache in Lachlan’s chest and mind. He desperately wanted to hear that Orlagh would heal and be well again—that she was going to bounce back. The somber air was thick and heavy.