Chapter 38
Charlotte
I was aware of my privileged life. My family always had money, my parents were so in love it bordered on sappy, they always encouraged our dreams and didn't even blink when I came out as bisexual.
I got along with my brothers too. As the youngest of three, they were both my biggest supporters in anything and the ones who teased me the most as the baby of the family. In other words, perfect brothers.
However, what growing up like that resulted in is that I never had any major traumas in life. I lost an aunt when I was a kid and my paternal grandmother at the end of high school, but that was the full extent of the deep pain I knew until my mom got sick.
And even with the long years of the kidney disease, my hope that at some point all of this would pass was greater than anything, precisely because that's what my mom repeated to us all the time.
As a result, nothing prepared me for this exact moment.
After putting on the shoe covers, the hair cap, and a mask, plus thoroughly sterilizing my hands, my dad and I are cleared to enter the intensive care ward.
The large room has a nurses' station right in the center and about twelve beds along the surrounding walls, separated only by curtains.
I freeze in fear for a moment, like the air in the room is trying to crush me.
My dad looks at me warily before taking my elbow and getting me walking again toward the beds.
We pass several people hooked up to various kinds of machines until we reach where my mom is.
My heart finishes sinking in my chest when I see her.
Miss Marta was never a big person, but she looked even smaller lying in that hospital bed, covered up to her chest by a white sheet.
A catheter had been inserted into her neck, connecting her to the machine I knew well as the one responsible for cleaning her blood the way a kidney would and returning it to her body.
A cannula in her nose helps her breathe too.
I approach the bed slowly. Tears fall down my cheeks silently, blurring my vision. I hold her hand, which is cold, and I watch in horror how bruised and purple her arm is, like several IV lines had been put in and taken out.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
I don't know if I can handle this. I'm barely keeping the strength in my legs looking at her in this state, let alone if I lost her.
No.
I refused to consider that possibility. My mom was strong. She was going to pull through this.
"Hi, Mom. It's Ethan, I'm right here with you and I'm not leaving, okay?
" I say, hoping that on some level of the induced coma, she really can hear me.
I squeeze her hand in mine while my dad strokes her hair.
"Josh and Nathan are coming too. It'll be a full Clarke reunion even before Christmas.
So you have to be strong, okay? For us. Be strong and wake up to yell at us for worrying so much and for driving at night. "
I wipe some of the tears from my face and sniffle, capturing every detail of her for my memory. I kiss the back of her hand and keep talking to her.
"You need to get better too because I've got a ton of things to tell you, Mom.
Like winning the Bowl game in the Patriots' own stadium and adopting a cat.
" I try to smile at that, but I can't. My dad looks at me with a warm gaze.
"I also need to tell you that what you wanted so much happened: I'm in love.
So you need to wake up to laugh at me and give me romance advice. "
The man on the other side of the bed lets out a pained sound and leans down until he rests his forehead against his wife's, but beyond that, he holds out his hand to me, and I take it, squeezing hard.
We stay like that for I don't know how long. Crying, talking, and connected as a family.
But the pain in my chest seems to grow by the second.
When a nurse says we have to leave so my mom isn't exposed to risks for too long, my dad stays behind talking to the doctor, and I drag myself out the door. I rip off all the gear and throw it in the trash hard, like the poor things were to blame for my suffering.
I go through the double doors again and find the two people I love. I practically run to them, and they take me in their arms and let me fall apart.
Josh and Nathan arrive together when day is already breaking.
Nathan is thirty-one and manages the other branch of the Clarke factory in Pennsylvania, while Josh is twenty-six and trying to make his own clothing brand take off in New York.
He has the advantage of being able to pay very little for raw materials, after all.
My mom's condition hadn't changed during that time.
My dad had tried to get me to go home to sleep a little, but I vehemently refused.
I wasn't going to be away again and let him try to hide it if she got worse.
Charlie and Logan only left my side for half an hour, to buy things for Katniss and drop her off at my parents' house.
Now they were sitting on the floor of a relatively empty hospital hallway, one on each side of me and holding my hand.
Heavens, if I didn't already love them before, this would be the moment that would bring me to my knees just from the strength they were giving me.
I get up to hug my brothers and introduce them to Charlie, since they know Logan well.
Since actual visiting hours were near, they couldn't go in earlier like I did, so we wait outside the ward's doors. Nathan is especially pissed at my dad for keeping us all in the dark, and I had to ask Logan to take Richard for a coffee before the whole thing turned into a fight.
That was everything our mom didn't need.
After the visit, where the wave of pain dragged me under all over again, I had to stay strong because Josh had fallen to pieces. He had a huge anxiety attack and had to be medicated.
Nathan tried to keep up his tough older-brother stance, but he was now hugging our dad, crying.
Heavens.
It was a fucking nightmare and I had no idea when, or if, we'd get out of it.
Charlotte
Four days later, Ethan's mom still hadn't left the ICU. The infection seemed to be well under control, and she'd been brought out of the induced coma, but she still hadn't opened her eyes.
Logan and I didn't leave his side for a single moment.
On the second day, when he finally agreed to go to his parents' house to shower and sleep a little, we went with him, and Richard insisted we all stay there.
Air mattresses were laid out on the floor of his childhood bedroom, and that's how we settled in.
If anyone noticed that Ethan slept on the floor with us instead of in his old twin bed, or noticed that we never came apart, they didn't comment on it.
Sometimes I caught a few curious looks from his brothers, but his dad seemed too absorbed in his own worry.
And no wonder.
Ethan wasn't caring about appearances either, always holding our hands together or letting us hug him for long stretches.
It was good to be able to be there for him, but I prayed every night that we'd get good news soon. Preferably today. Or it would be the worst Christmas in the history of the Clarke family.
My mom had called me first thing to wish me a Merry Christmas. She was upset that I was spending another holiday without coming home, but she understood the situation.
Logan had also called to talk to his mom and sister, and nearly made me faint from surprise when he introduced me to them over the video call.
They looked a lot like him, actually, with the same dark blond hair and blue eyes.
On top of that, his mom also spent a good few minutes talking to Richard, trying to give the old friend strength.
The relationship the two families had built was really beautiful.
After breakfast and all the calls, we go to the hospital together. Josh and Nathan had spent the night with her this time, and to our surprise, they're not on the benches in front of the ICU waiting for us, but in the lobby talking.
A shiver runs through my whole body, thinking about what the change could mean, and Tan seems to feel the same, because he squeezes my hand.
But then Josh sees us and runs in our direction with a huge smile.
"She woke up! Mom woke up!" he exclaims, and we scream with happiness. We trade hugs, cry with joy, and I've never felt so much relief in my life.
Ethan practically runs upstairs, dragging us along, he's so eager to see his mom. I stop him at the ICU door for a second and wipe his cheeks.
"She won't want to see this trail of tears," I explain, and he laughs weakly.
"But they're happy ones," he shoots back, but I shrug.
"I know. But your smiles are more important to her right now," I assure, and he looks at me with understanding and gratitude. Ethan closes the distance between the three of us, pulling each of us in with one arm, until our foreheads touch.
"Thank you. I wouldn't have survived these days without you," he whispers, his voice still a little choked. I rest a hand on his chest and caress his heart tenderly.
"We'll always be here, Tan."
"For anything you need," Logan adds, repeating my gesture. Ethan covers our hands with his and squeezes.
"Thank you. I love you," he declares and pulls away, without giving us a chance to respond. I watch him go through the ICU doors with my heart pounding in my chest, and then I turn to Logan, whose expression of not knowing how to react must mirror my own.
It could be a brotherly "I love you," the kind that gets exchanged between friends, especially in moments of heightened emotion like this. But deep down, the two of us knew it wasn't.
It was love.
Real love.
Oh, heavens.