Page 77 of No One Else

“I’m fine,” he says thickly.

“Evan.”

There’s a long pause and then he clears his throat. “When I heard the crack from the kitchen... my heart...”

“That sounds really scary,” I say when it’s obvious he won’t continue. Or can’t.

“He’s all I have,” he whispers. The same thing he said at the restaurant.

“I’m so glad you were there.”

His voice is hoarse when he speaks next. “It keeps running through my head. What if I had already left? Would he have woken on his own? Or would I have found him there still on the floor later tonight?” he asks shakily.

My heart goes out to him, desperately wanting to hold him, comfort him. It’s never been a big deal not having a car before, but I acutely feel its absence now. All I want to do is drive over to the hospital and wrap him in my arms.

If I can’t comfort him physically right now, at least I can emotionally. “You’ll kill yourself with the what ifs. Focus on the good. He got help in time and the doctors think he’ll be okay. They’re just keeping him there now as a precaution, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, then. He’ll be fine. He will.”

“I just... every time I close my eyes, I see him sprawled on the floor, his cane halfway across the room...”

A pang zips through my chest. “I wish I could be there,” I whisper.

“I do too.”

“Are you going to class tomorrow?”

“I- I don’t want him to be alone. I don’t know how long he needs monitoring for after effects of a concussion.”

“I’ll let you get back to him. Just know I’m thinking about both of you.”

“I’ll be thinking of you too. I’m so sorry to miss tonight. I was really looking forward to it.” He pauses and then says, “No, that doesn’t do it justice. I was insanely anticipating a few hours alone with you.”

I smile, despite the seriousness of the situation. “I was too.”

There’s a beat of silence between us. “I-” He cuts himself off and continues with, “Have a good night.”

My breath catches in my throat. It sounded like he was about to say something else. “You too,” I stutter, caught up in what he stopped himself from saying. Was it what I think it was going to be? Those three little words that would be such a natural end to the conversation?

Am I ready for that?

He’s never mentioned it since that time in December. He’s probably afraid I’ll shoot him down again. But the thought of hearing it once more from him fills me with warmth, like it’s radiating out from my chest and through my whole body. Is it too soon to say it myself? We’ve only actually been dating for a few weeks. Everything before that, though...

“Bye,” I say, chickening out and ending the call. Maybe I should let him take the lead.

Despite what my heart feels.

***

“THANKS AGAIN, SAMANTHA-”

“Seriously, you don’t have to thank me,” she interrupts. “That’s what friends are for.”

“I know, it’s just, you took me to the store, and now you’re dropping me off here-”

“I had to get groceries anyway and you needed a ride.” She shakes my shoulder from the driver’s seat. “You’re right that Evan needs you.”

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