Chapter 23
Blake
Hospitals have a strange way of stretching time into something unreliable.
As if minutes are either disappearing too quickly or lasting far longer than they should, depending entirely on what you’re waiting for.
Right now, I’m sitting somewhere in the middle of both of those things at once.
I’m watching the door across the room like it might open at any second, even though I know Zane isn’t supposed to be here for at least another ten minutes.
Lisa is still sitting beside the bed, her left hand resting loosely on the edge of the mattress near mine.
Her posture is straighter than it was earlier, but still tense in a way that makes it obvious she hasn’t fully relaxed since last night.
Every few seconds, she glances toward the hallway like she’s rehearsing something silently in her head that she hasn’t decided how to say yet.
“You’re thinking too loudly,” I tell her finally.
She turns toward me immediately.
“I’m not thinking loudly.”
“You are,” I say. “I can hear it from here.”
“That’s medically impossible.”
“I’m recovering from surgery,” I remind her. “I have enhanced emotional perception now.”
She almost smiles. But the nerves are still there. So are mine.
Telling your best friend you’re dating his sister shouldn’t feel like walking into a playoff game with a broken shoulder and no backup plan. Yet, somehow that’s exactly what this feels like, like there’s no version of this conversation where I don’t lose something important if I handle it wrong.
I’ve known Zane most of my life. Long enough that I can predict the way he skates before he moves. Long enough that I know exactly what he’s going to say when a ref makes a bad call. Long enough that I know he trusts me. Or at least he did.
Which means this conversation matters more than anything else I’ve had to do in a long time.
“Maybe we should just tell him immediately,” Lisa says quietly, like she’s been holding that thought for a while and finally decided it needed to exist out loud.
“That’s the plan,” I say.
“No buildup? No dramatic speech? No pretending we’re talking about something else first?” she asks.
“I just had surgery,” I remind her. “I’m not doing a dramatic speech.”
“That’s fair.”
There’s a soft knock at the door before either of us can say anything else, and the second it opens, Gwen steps into the room first. It’s like she already knows she’s walking into the middle of something important and intends to make it easier just by being there.
“Hey,” she says gently.
Lisa visibly relaxes when she sees her.
“Hey,” she answers.
Gwen’s eyes flick briefly between us. Then down to where Lisa’s hand is resting near mine. Then back up again. She doesn’t say anything about it. She doesn’t need to.
“How are you feeling?” she asks me.
“Like I lost a fight with a truck,” I tell her honestly.
“That sounds accurate,” she says.
Lisa rolls her eyes.
“He’s being dramatic.”
“I’m being brave,” I correct
“You’re being annoying.”
“That too.”
Gwen smiles slightly but doesn’t sit down right away, like she’s waiting for someone else to arrive before she decides where she belongs in the room.
Which is exactly when the door opens again. And Zane walks in. He looks tired.
Not exhausted exactly, but quieter than usual, like the last twenty-four hours have been sitting on his shoulders in a way he hasn’t figured out how to shake off yet. The moment his eyes land on me, he exhales slowly like he didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until now.
“Man,” he says, stepping closer to the bed. “You look terrible.”
“You should see the other guy,” I answer automatically.
“I did,” he replies. “Still not impressed.”
That makes me laugh, which hurts, which makes him look relieved anyway.
“How are you feeling?” he asks again, more seriously this time.
“Better than yesterday,” I tell him.
“Doctor says recovery’s going to take time,” he says, like he’s repeating something he already heard from someone else.
“I figured.”
He nods once. Then his attention shifts. To Lisa. Still sitting beside me. Still closer to the bed than anyone else in the room. Still not moving away. There’s a moment where he notices. Not fully yet. But enough.
“What did I miss?” he asks slowly, looking between us.
Lisa glances at me. I glance back at her. And suddenly the room feels quieter than it did a second ago.
“We were going to tell you,” Lisa says first.
Which is exactly what I hoped she would say. Because hearing it from her matters more than hearing it from me.
“Tell me what?” Zane asks.
Gwen steps slightly closer to Lisa without saying anything. Just enough to be there.
Lisa takes a breath. Then another one. Then finally…
“Blake and I are together.”
The words land in the room softly. But not quietly. Zane doesn’t react immediately. Which somehow makes it worse. He just looks at me. Then at Lisa. Then back at me again.
“How together?” he asks finally.
“Together together,” I answer.
“That’s not a category.”
“It is now.”
He runs one hand through his hair slowly.
“How long?” he asks.
“Not long,” Lisa says quickly. “We wanted to tell you earlier.”
“I didn’t want you finding out from anyone else,” I add.
He looks at me again. Longer this time. Like he’s recalculating something he thought he already understood.
“You’re serious,” he says finally.
“Yes,” I answer.
“Both of you.”
“Yes.”
Another pause.
Then…
“You waited until after surgery to tell me?”
“I wasn’t planning on scheduling the conversation around shoulder dislocations,” I say.
That makes him laugh despite himself, which helps. A lot.
“You’re my best friend,” he says after a second.
“I know.”
“And that’s my sister.”
“I know that too.”
“You see the problem.”
“I see the responsibility,” I correct.
Lisa shifts slightly beside the bed.
“We didn’t hide it because we didn’t trust you,” she says carefully. “We just wanted to tell you the right way.”
“Did you know this?” Zane asks Gwen, still in shock, and Gwen nods.
“I accidentally told Gwen,” Lisa explains. “I made her promise me not to tell you.”
“Ok,” he says.
He looks back at me again.
“If you hurt her,” he starts.
“I won’t,” I say immediately.
“I mean it.”
“So do I.”
Another pause.
“I’m in love with her.”
The words come out before I can stop them. Before I even decide whether I meant to say them out loud. But the second they’re there, I know they’re true.
Lisa freezes beside the bed. Gwen’s eyebrows lift slightly. And Zane stares at me.
“You what?” he says.
“I’m in love with her,” I repeat.
There’s no point in pretending otherwise anymore. The silence that follows feels different than the one before. Not tense. Not uncertain. Just big.
Like something shifted in the room that none of us expected to happen today.
Zane exhales slowly.
Then looks at Lisa.
“And you’re in love with him?” he asks.
“Yes,” she answers immediately.
No hesitation.
He nods once.
“Ok.”
“That’s it?” Lisa asks.
“That’s not it,” he says. “I’m still processing.”
“Fair enough.”
“But if you’re serious,” he continues, looking at both of us now instead of just one of us, “then I trust you.”
Something in my chest settles immediately. His words matter more than I expected them to. More than the game. More than the injury. More than anything else that happened this week.
“You’re still not allowed to break his other shoulder,” Lisa tells him.
“No promises,” Zane replies.
“I’m right here,” I remind both of them.
“We know,” they say at the same time.
And somehow, even sitting in a hospital bed with half my arm wrapped in tape and gauze, it feels like everything landed exactly where it was supposed to.