Chapter 6
Chapter six
Hudson
Ijolt awake, choking on air that tastes like river water.
That’s how it’s been lately—waking from dreams of the river swallowing me whole. Sometimes I wake up angry that it wasn’t real. Other times, I wake up relieved.
The guilt and pain still cling to me like a curse.
My eyes move around the new room they put me in. It’s bigger, with fewer machines, but the bleach smell still stings the air. I’m finally out of the ICU, feeling a bit better physically, but my mind is still a jumbled mess.
A low snore pulls me from my thoughts, drawing my eye to Cullen dozing in the chair beside the bed. He’s barely left my side unless the doctors ask him to step out.
I both love and resent it.
I hate that he has to be here at all. That I couldn’t even die right, and now everyone is orbiting around me like I’m cracked glass.
But I love Cullen’s nearness, too. He’s the only one I’ve really let myself communicate with. Cull has always meant safety, and I think that’s what I need most right now.
Not that my parents aren’t safe for me, but Cull sees me. He always has. Even when I couldn’t see it.
What he said a couple of days ago, about listening to my heart, keeps looping in my mind until I can’t tell if I’m clawing towards the light or sinking back under.
How do I listen to my heart when my brain is so fucking loud?
I’m just really confused, wanting nothing more than for my mind to shut off.
Cull stirs beside me, like he can hear me thinking about him. He lets out a near-silent yawn and stretches his arms over his head.
When he sees me watching, he grins wide. “Hey, baby. How long have you been awake?”
I shrug, forcing the words out. “Couple minutes.” My throat feels like I’ve swallowed knives heated over coals. They pulled the vent out last night, thank God, but talking sucks.
I’d rather go back to blinking.
Cull leans down and kisses my forehead. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I tried to drown myself in Jones River.”
His smile dies, the air between us thickening.
Okay. Guess dark humor’s off the table.
“Sorry,” I croak.
He doesn’t acknowledge it, just stands and moves to sit on the bed. “I can get you some ice chips. Dr. Mansley said they’d help. He also said you can start eating again. Liquid diet, but still.”
I sigh, the air scratching my throat. “I know what he said, Cull. I was here.”
Unfortunately.
He nods his head, an awkward silence filling the room.
A soft knock pulls our attention to the door. Hadley’s head pokes in, her expression unsure. She hasn’t been in to see me since I woke up, and I don’t blame her. Everything is still so fucked up in my life.
Moreso now.
She’s probably here to tell me I should’ve tried harder.
Even if that’s what this is, I want her to know I love her and that I’m sorry.
I weakly wave her in.
“Hey,” she says, still hesitant. “Can, um… do you mind if we talk? I-if you feel up to it. No pressure. I can—”
“We can talk,” I cut her off gently.
She shifts her gaze to Cull. He leans over, kisses my cheek, then walks out without a word.
Hadley lingers by the door, chewing her lip like she always does when she’s nervous.
“You can sit, Hads. I won’t bite.”
She walks over slowly and sits in the worn leather chair. Her knee bounces frantically, and she won’t make eye contact with me.
I reach my hand out to her. She takes it, her soft cries filtering through the room.
“I’m so sorry, Hudson. I-I didn’t know what was going on. I should’ve asked, but I never—” Her voice catches, the little bit of composure she had crumbling. “I haven’t come to see you because I d-don’t deserve to.”
I gently tug her hand. She follows, curling up next to me on the bed. I hold her while she cries, hoping she knows that I’m not angry with her.
Hurt by her words, yes. But I know we all do and say things when our minds are unraveling.
I’m exhibit A.
When she finally calms down a bit, I nudge her face up so she can see me.
“I forgave you a long time ago, Hads. I just hope you know how sorry I am for everything, and for never telling you about what I had going on. It was hard enough with Mom and Dad knowing. I didn’t want you thrown in the mix, too. ”
She squeezes me gingerly. “You can’t ever do something like this again, Hudson. Cullen’s soul isn’t the only one tied to yours.”
I laugh, the sound foreign as it scrapes my raw throat. “Is that why my chest aches? Your soul is trying to elbow Cull’s out of the way?”
She chuckles. “There is no removing Cullen’s soul—I wouldn’t want to.” She sighs, the sound heavy. “Just… make sure there is a little room left for your big sister.”
I roll my eyes. “Only by three minutes.”
“Yup, and that makes me older and wiser.”
She goes quiet for a second, thinking before she speaks. “Hud, I’ve been awful. I was hurt and I didn’t know how to express that to you. And I need you to know it wasn’t about you being gay. That part doesn’t matter to me.”
It did cross my mind that Hadley might be homophobic, but I should have known she was just surprised. Regardless of how she’s acted recently, I know her heart, and what matters is she’s making it right.
“I hope you know that I love you so much. It was just a shock the way I found out, and that it was Cullen of all people… but, if I’m being honest, I think I always knew how you felt about him,” she admits.
I scan her face. “You knew?”
She shakes her head. “I didn’t know for sure, but I’d catch you just staring at him, almost like you were stuck in a daydream.
It scared me. The first time I noticed was not long after Cull tried to tell me he was attracted to guys.
It sent me into a spiral. A selfish spiral.
” She frowns, her expression full of shame.
“My default mode is to turn my insecurities back on other people, and I know I need to work on that. I’ve said a lot of things I’m not proud of to both you and Cullen. I’m sorry.”
I knew from her rant at Matt’s party that she’d been carrying a lot of resentment towards me. She felt like I was the favorite child, and when she found out Cull and I were together, it was like I stole the last thing she had for herself.
“What you said hurt, Hads. It played a lot into what I did, and although I forgive you, words tend to stick.”
She scrunches her eyes closed, squeezing more tears from the corners. “I know,” she whispers.
Sighing, I hold her a little tighter. My sister isn’t a bad person, but the saying is true. Hurt people hurt people. She’s no exception.
“Have you and Cullen talked it out?” I ask, diverting the subject a little.
Hadley shakes her head. “I apologized the first day we were here, but we’ve not said much else. He isn’t interested in anyone’s apologies right now.”
Sounds like Cull.
“Give him time.”
She smiles, the gesture sad. “Take care of him. I don’t think I did such a great job.” She gets up from the bed and sits back in the chair, retaking my hand in hers. “For what it’s worth, I’m happy for you two. Witnessing the way he loves you…”
I squeeze her hand. “You’ll find someone who loves you the same way. I promise.”
“He’s probably a fish in a pond somewhere,” she deadpans, swiping the last of the moisture from under her eyes.
“Is that like kissing a frog? Will he turn into a prince if you give him a little tongue?” I joke, the lightness a welcome reprieve from the bleak void I’ve been dwelling in.
She laughs. “That’s disgusting. But, I doubt it. He’s probably already taken.”
I chuckle, a little flicker of light burning in my chest. Like a match lit a torch that had been snuffed out. The darkness is still surrounding me, but Hadley managed to fight back a small part of it.
So I allow myself to feel something really good for the first time since I woke up.
It’s a small flame, but I can only hope it starts the fire.
We sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, enjoying the semblance of peace we have.
It’s a relief to be free from the lines tugging against my skin and the tube that grated against my esophagus. Being able to move around freely has helped to improve my mood. Even the fire in my throat from talking too much can't sway the small amount of happiness I feel right now.
Dr. Mansley said that I was doing really well and that I should be able to go home in a few days. A month is a long time to be in the hospital, even though I’ve only been conscious for two of those weeks. It makes me appreciate the home I was willing to give up.
A life you were willing to give up.
My good mood dims. There are still hurdles outside of this hospital that I will have to jump, and if I didn’t have the fight in me to do it then, I don’t know if I can even try now.
So, going home isn’t the victory everyone is talking about. It’s where the darkness is thickest, and it’d be too easy to let it swallow me whole.
But for today, I’m going to let the light win. Because once I leave this building, I don’t know how long I’ll be able to hold on to it.