Chapter 1 #2
My hand meets the smooth surface and pushes gently, poking my head in. It’s empty of people, but chairs are scattered throughout the warm space. It’s a stark contrast to the white, clinical setting of the rest of the hospital, with its wooden-planked walls and plush cream carpet.
I immediately breathe a little easier, walking over to sit in a chair next to an open window. It overlooks a courtyard, roses of all colors in bloom, the soft fragrance carried on the breeze through the open glass.
Something about this room forces me to acknowledge how exhausted I am. Not just physically, but mentally. My mind hasn’t really processed what happened last night, and I’m not really sure I ever want it to.
One thing is nice, though, it doesn’t feel as suffocating to admit that to myself here.
My eyes fall shut as I lean my head against the wall, my hands folded over my stomach.
For a moment, it’s like everything outside of these walls doesn’t exist. In here, there’s no bridge. No grief. No stalkers or devastating phone calls.
Just calm.
I must drift off because I’m startled by a gentle shake to my shoulder.
My eyes snap open to see Mr. Daniels squatting next to the chair. His eyes are red-rimmed, his cheeks damp from crying. He gives me a tired smile that falters almost immediately. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Hadley said she saw you walk this way.”
“Just needed a breather,” I mumble, wiping my eyes of the sleep that gathered there.
“That’s alright. I think we all need one.”
I nod and sit straight, Mr. Daniels standing. “It’s your turn to go see him,” he tells me, the tired lines of his face shadowed in the dim room.
A ragged breath leaves my chest, and the numbness that’s been hovering over me starts to crack. My hands are clammy, my chest is tight again, but nothing will stop me from seeing him.
I rise from the seat, my hands tugging on the bottom of my t-shirt, anxious to finally set my eyes on Hud.
“Cullen,” Mr. Daniels calls, his voice fatigued. “Prepare yourself. There are a lot of wires and machines. Room seven-fifteen.”
I tip my head and slip out of my little slice of peace, then head down the hallway.
Hudson’s room is one of the last in the ICU wing, and each step gives me time to brace myself for what I might see. I pause in front of his cracked door and take a deep breath.
But nothing prepares me.
The second I step inside, my stomach drops so hard the bitter taste of bile creeps up my throat.
No matter what I imagined, this is worse.
My eyes latch onto the plastic hose taped to his mouth first, mechanical air hissing through it. Monitors beep somewhere to my left—too steady, too calm for what this is. Wavy lines I can’t make sense of flow on a blue screen, peaks and valleys that feel like they belong to someone else’s life.
Leads run across his chest and forehead, wires disappearing under his hospital gown like they are holding him together. A feeding tube snakes up his nose.
My chest clenches violently.
Bruises mark his face and throat in dark, uneven patches. His arm is strapped into a sling I didn’t notice at first, and bandages hide all the cuts beneath.
He looks… wrong.
Too still. Too pale.
If not for the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor, I’d think he was gone.
“Cullen, sweetheart, you need to put these on.”
Mrs. Nora’s quiet voice pulls me from my trance. She’s holding out something yellow, and I realize it’s a safety smock, mask, and gloves. I take them without a word and begin putting everything on, my body moving on autopilot.
“If you want to talk to him, the nurse said it can help.” She steps in to give me a hug, her soft sniffles brushing against my ear. “I’ll let you have some time alone with him.”
I take a deep, shaky breath, my eyes still glued to Hudson’s prone body.
“You were brave today. Hudson is blessed to have you.”
A tear escapes down my cheek, my voice rough when I speak. “I’d do anything to keep him here with me.”
Mrs. Nora cups my cheek, soft and loving. I can’t see her smile behind the mask, but her eyes crinkle just enough. “Which means you kept him here with all of us. Thank you.”
She steps around me and slips from the room, the soft click of the door signaling I’m alone with Hud.
Without her presence, the sounds take over. The steady beeping pierces my eardrums, and the low whoosh of the ventilator may as well be a hurricane blowing away the last pieces of my crushed heart.
The noise means he’s alive, I remind myself.
There’s a plush chair pulled up beside the bed, so I lower into it, slow and unsure. My gaze stays locked on him, scared that if I blink, he will disappear.
I don’t know what I want to say, just that I need to be near him. Reaching forward, I take his hand, warmer now than it was when we pulled him from the river.
I hate having to wear gloves. I need to feel his skin, to feel that connection between us.
Drawing in a trembling breath, I begin to speak. “Why Hud?” I pause, like maybe if I wait long enough, he’ll answer. “You lied to me. You knew. When you left my house, you knew this was what you were going to do.”
Still nothing. Just the rhythm of the machines and the quiet hiss of forced air. “I need you, baby. I can’t breathe without you… fuck.”
I let my head fall back against the padded leather of the chair. My body is exhausted. My mind is a mess. And my own injuries are screaming at me to rest.
But this moment is more important than what I need.
“I love you, and any world without you in it would be unbearable. I don’t know how to exist without you.” My throat tightens. The tears come, and I let them.
“Watching you step off that bridge—” I break, the words crumbling.
“I went into that water to save you, but if I couldn’t…
I was ready to go with you. I-I would’ve stopped swimming.
I would’ve let myself sink.” The confession leaves me shaking.
“If I couldn’t save you, then I didn’t deserve to leave that river either. ”
I lean down, resting my head against the scratchy, bleach-stiffened sheets, both hands clutching Hudson’s. “I love you, Hud. You can’t leave me. I just got you. Please… please don’t leave me.”
My tears flow hard and fast. I’m full-on bawling, the kind that rattles my whole body.
A gentle hand touches my shoulder, making me jump.
Dad is crouched beside the chair, eyes glassy. He’s dressed for work, his white coat visible beneath his PPE.
“H-he can’t leave me, Dad,” I choke out, panic rising like a tidal wave. “He can’t. H-he…” I collapse into his arms, the weight of everything crashing down all at once, my body unable to hold it in any longer.
“He’s going to pull through, son. We have to have faith. He’s strong—tough. He’ll make it.” His arms are tight around me, keeping me from splintering into a million tiny fragments.
I need what he said to be true, because I’m falling apart inside.
Everything in me hurts.
“Why don’t you come on out for a minute?” Dad urges. “There are a few people in the waiting room who want to see you.”
Here to see me?
I wipe my face on the sleeve of the paper gown, then glance back at Hudson. He hasn’t moved. Not even a twitch. I bend down and press a kiss to his cheek, my lips meeting the fabric of the mask. I don’t know if he can feel my affection, but I hope he can.
I follow Dad out of Hudson’s room and down the quiet hallway. When he opens the waiting room door, I step inside, stopping cold.
The tiny room is packed.
Our entire friend group is gathered, Archer and Matt standing at the front. The sight of them, every single one of them showing up, hits me like a punch to the chest.
Matt’s chewing on his bottom lip, eyes red and puffy. Archer reaches for me, his Adam's apple bobbing, the rest following his lead.
No one says a word. One by one, they close the distance until I’m pulled into the middle of them, surrounded by arms and shoulders. They hold me like a single body, warm and steady.
For the second time today, I break.