Page 88 of Back To You

Why would the universe take Bennett away from Luke?

It isn’t fair.

It isn’t right.

It’s been two days since we rushed to the hospital in the middle of the night, a devastating contrast compared to the last time we did when Drew went into labor.

Luke hasn’t gotten out of bed since we got home from the hospital.

Emmett and Eddie helped me get him home, and the whole Lenny’s crew met us at the hospital after Luke got the call from Caleb that Bennett was being rushed to the hospital. It wasn’t until we got there that we found out he died in the ambulance.

There’s no playbook, no guidelines, no “right” way to deal with this.

No way for me to know how to deal with the grief overpowering Luke’s ability to function, the hurt and pain I would do anything to take away, the overwhelminghole in my chest that must only be a fraction of the one in Luke’s.

And the worst part about it all, life just moves on.

Luke’s life just fell apart but everything around us is business as usual.

I still have to go to my rotation this morning after a weekend of feeling completely useless, balancing wanting to help Luke through this but also giving him the space to grieve however he needs to.

I offered to help Caleb with anything he needed, specifically the funeral arrangements. I want to help alleviate as much of the responsibilities and know that Mr. and Mrs. Owens would be relying on Caleb to handle it all.

Luke’s shifts at Lenny’s need to be covered, and there are still meetings and appointments with all the contractors for the coffee shop, scheduled deliveries, and meetings that need to be taken care of.

Eddie, Mia, Emmett, and Drew are helping where they can—Luke deserves to not have to worry about anything but what he’s going through right now—but life doesn’t slow down, not even for a second, not even when Luke’s whole world has been turned upside down.

I’ve never been the most patient, or the most-nurturing. Maybe it’s because of the parents I grew up with not giving a single fuck about me. Or, maybe it’s because I convinced myself that asking for help or needing something made people think I was more trouble than I was worth, and I expect everyone to have that same mentality.

I don’t know how to help Luke. I don’t know how to be what he needs.

But I’m not stopping until I figure it out.

I check the time on the clock on the stove, and I have ten minutes before I have to leave this morning. Mia is on her way to stay with Luke while I’m gone, our friends are all more than willing to be here in case Luke needs it, and to help us out with Rosie too.

I just don’t want him to be alone.

I feel pressure build behind my eyes, remembering how it felt to have Luke’s fist balling into my sweatshirt, his head in my lap, his tears wetting the leggings I was wearing in that cold, empty hospital waiting room.

I prayed to all the different Gods that I don’t believe in to let me take his place, let me deal with the pain because he didn’t deserve it. I wished for the doctors to come back and tell us that it was a mistake; that Bennett was fine, that he was asking to see his brothers.

I hoped, with everything I am, that it was all just a really bad dream.

Luke always liked to joke that we all have had a pretty shitty hand dealt to us—between the shooting at Drew’s school, to a drunk driver killing Emmett’s sister, to Mia’s boyfriend’s suicide, to Eddie beating his abusive, alcoholic father half-to-death, to my parents wishing I was never born—and he didn’t have it half as rough. He laughed at his own expense, making light of his own hardships, saying he was lucky to have friends as strong as us because he’s had it pretty easy.

It was his way of trying to see the bright side of things, always reminding us that we might have felt alone when all those things happened to each of us, but that we weren’t alone anymore.

For how fucked up it is to say those horrible things brought us all together. It’s the only way to look at all those shitty things and not lose sight of how beautiful life can be.

But that didn’t mean Luke deservedthis. He didn’t deserve for something horrific to happen to him, just so he can overcome it and come out stronger, or whatever other bullshit people say to you when something terrible happens.

I feel a tear escape down my cheek, quickly wiping it away as I throw together some things for lunch and pack up my backpack. I don’t have time to be sad and curse the universe, not when Luke needs the space to do it.

Luke may not have been able to be there for all of us when it felt like things would never get better—when we were trapped in the grief, the trauma, the loss—but we’re all here for him now, especially me.

I hear a knock on my door before the jingling of keys and the door opening. I gave both Mia and Eddie, and Drew and Emmett, keys to our apartment when they offered to be here for Luke in case he needed something—or someone—when I was at my rotations.

“Knock, knock,” Mia whispers, softly closing the door behind her. Rosie hasn’t left the floor next to Luke’s side of the bed since we got home, so it feels even quieter in the house with no excited golden retriever to meet her at the door. “How are you doing, Ann?” she asks me as I open the fridge, pulling out an energy drink because it’s quicker than making an iced matcha, and I still need the caffeine to get through today.

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