Page 14 of Lighting the Lamp
“Are you hurt?” she demands, voice cracking at the edges. “Did you hit your head? Why didn’t someone call me?”
“Alise—” I try, but my voice comes out weak.
She doesn’t let me say anything else; her face is full of rage as she spins around and storms toward Cooper.
“You told me he was fine!” Her voice is sharper than I’ve ever heard it. It’s not just anger; it’s betrayal wrapped in terror. “You said he was fine, Cooper! If he was so goddamn fine, why the hell is he in a hospital bed?”
Cooper flinches, jaw tightening. “He said that they cleared him. Excuse me for taking him at his word.”
“That’s bullshit!” she spits, pointing a shaking finger at him. “You Hendrix boys always push yourselves to the limit. Pushing harder and harder until you break, but you knew something was wrong. Deep down, you knew something was wrong because you always know. And then you let me leave the rink thinking it was nothing! I-I walked away.”
Her words fracture into silence as I watch the panic slowly consume her. She doubles over slightly, one hand pressed to her chest like she’s trying to stop her heart from breaking through her ribs. Her breathing turns quick and shallow, her other hand reaching blindly for the wall. I’ve seen this spiral before. I know the signs, but never because of me.
“Hey.” I push myself up, ignoring the sharp twist in my side. “Alise.”
She’s staring past me, blinking fast, her pupils blown wide. I can see she’s not here anymore. She’s lost in noise, panic, and every memory that’s ever haunted her. The fear of beingabandoned, of the people she cares about disappearing before her eyes. Just like her dad. One day he was there, and the next he wasn’t. No goodbye, just disappearing into the darkness. This is our secret, the one piece of her that belongs only to me, and now I’m the one bringing back all those memories. The cause of all her pain, but I won’t disappear.
“Alise,” I say again, stronger this time, patting the bed beside me. “Come here and lie down.”
She shakes her head, stumbling back half a step as her fingers curl against the wall. The headphones around her neck jostle again, like even they’re reminding me she’s trying to fight through the sensory overload.
“Lisey. Look at me.” My voice breaks, but hearing her nickname works.
Her gaze finally snaps to mine, her eyes wild and glassy, like a caged animal needing to find an escape.
“I’m okay,” I whisper, reaching out. “Come here. Please.”
After a breathless pause, she climbs awkwardly into the bed beside me like her limbs don’t belong to her. I open my arm, and she curls against my side without hesitation, hiding her face in my shoulder. I feel the quakes in her chest, the ragged pull of every breath she’s fighting for. Then, without thinking, I gently pull the headphones up from her neck and over her ears. She doesn’t resist, pressing her cheek to my shoulder and letting me do it. She exhales, shaky but grateful.
The moment they settle, I feel her body give a little, like the weight of the world has been turned down a few decibels. She burrows into my side, curling in on herself, her face hidden in the curve of my neck. I feel every tremor in her chest, every hitch in her breath.
“I’ve got you,” I murmur, stroking her hair. “In for four. Hold. Out for six.”
She tries to follow my instructions but doesn’t quite get it. I count with her again. And again. And again. Soon, her breathing falls into rhythm with mine. The wild shaking fades, and her fist relaxes where it had twisted into my hospital gown.
“I’m here,” I whisper into her hair. “I’ve got you.”
The words slip out before I can stop them because they’re true. She shouldn’t have had to come rushing in here like this, begging her body to calm down because I couldn’t be honest about what was happening. I caused this spiral. I left her text on read for four days without responding. She deserved to know what was going on more than anyone, but I was afraid of what it might mean. What would’ve happened if I admitted something wasn’t right with my body? The only thing that fear got me was stuck in a hospital bed after my heart apparently skipped a beat like a damn teenager in love, and the person I care about most in the world is curled into me, doing everything she can to keep from falling apart.
The room is quiet. I don’t know if Parker and Cooper left or just faded into the background, but I can’t hear them anymore. It’s just the two of us, how it’s always been. Her weight pressed against me, heartbeat slowly syncing with mine, and her endless trust in me to take care of her, even now.
“You okay?” I ask softly, my lips against her forehead, and she nods against my chest.
I try to smile, to push back the guilt squeezing my chest like a vise. “You know, if you wanted to get into bed with me that bad, you could’ve just asked.”
The second I say it, I want to shove the words back down my throat. Her head lifts, just enough for me to see the flicker of pain in her face that cuts deeper than anything else tonight.
Her lip twitches, just a slight pull at the corner of her mouth that doesn’t quite reach her eyes, and then she turns back into my chest, resting her cheek just below my collarbone. Theheadphones still cover her ears, muffling the surrounding chaos. But I know she heard every word. I wish I could take it back. I wish I could take all of it back. Instead, I hold her tighter, let my hand drift up and down her back, and try not to hate myself for putting her here.
I want to tell her I didn’t mean it like that. I was just trying to lighten the mood, but the damage is already done. It’s written all over her face. Once again, I’ve managed to break the girl who always tries so damn hard to keep me whole.
Chapter Six
Alise
He’s sitting here, cracking jokes like nothing happened.
“You know, if you wanted to get into bed with me that badly, you could’ve just asked.”
