Page 67 of Loving Josy
I clutch the counter tighter, bracing myself for what’s coming, because I already know—whatever he’s about to say is going to shatter me.
“He was working on a roof and fell,” Austin says, his voice low and heavy. “They took him to the hospital. Esteban’s with him now. He called me and asked me to come pick you up so I can take you there.”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. My chest tightens, making it hard to breathe. “Is he okay, though?” I manage to ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
Austin’s jaw tightens, and he looks away for a moment. “I don’t know all the details,” he admits. “Esteban said hewasn’t responsive when they found him. They’ve got him in the emergency room now. His parents are on their way, but Esteban said they won’t tell him much because he’s not family.”
The wordunresponsiveechoes in my mind, making my stomach churn. I feel like the ground has been ripped out from under me.
“Okay,” I say, my voice shaky. “Let me close the shop, and we’ll go.”
I glance around the empty coffee shop, the familiar space feeling foreign and unimportant now. I take a shaky breath, trying to pull myself together, but my mind won’t stop racing with worst-case scenarios. What if he’s hurt badly? What if.
Violet steps out from the bathroom, her expression shifting the moment she sees Austin’s face. “What’s going on?” she asks, concern etched in her features.
Austin quickly fills her in, but his words blur into background noise. I can’t focus on anything except the thought of Noah lying in a hospital bed, hurt and alone. My heart aches, and tears prick the corners of my eyes.
Violet’s hand on my arm pulls me back to the present. “I’ll close up the shop,” she says gently, her voice steady. “Go with Austin. I’ll come to the hospital as soon as I’m done here.”
I nod, barely registering her words. My body moves on autopilot as I grab my bag and follow Austin out the door.
The drive to the hospital is silent, the tension in the truck so thick it feels suffocating. Austin keeps his eyes on the road, his hands gripping the wheel tightly. I’m grateful he doesn’t try to make conversation; I don’t think I could form a coherent sentence right now.
All I can do is stare out the window, my mind swirling with fear and worry. I can’t lose Noah. Not now. Not when we finally found each other, not when we have so much to look forward to.
The thought of him lying there, hurt and unresponsive, sends a fresh wave of panic through me. I press my hand to my chest, trying to calm the frantic beating of my heart, but nothing works.
All I can think about is him. All I can hope for is that he’s okay.
When we arrive at the hospital, Austin parks his truck hastily, and we rush toward the emergency room. My legs feel like they’re moving on autopilot, each step heavier than the last. As the automatic doors slide open, I scan the room desperately, searching for Esteban.
“Hey,” I hear from behind me. I whirl around and see him standing near a row of chairs. His disheveled hair and the worry etched on his face make my stomach churn.
“What happened?” I demand, my voice shaking.
Esteban runs a hand through his hair, his shoulders sagging. “Noah was on the roof of the house we’re working on, doing an inspection. We were talking while I was on the ground, keeping an eye on him. When he pulled his phone from his back pocket, I don’t know how, but he lost his footing and fell. He hit his head bad, Josy. There was a lot of blood.” His voice cracks as he continues. “I called an ambulance immediately because he wasn’t responding, and I didn’t dare move him.”
The world blurs as his words sink in. My knees feel weak, and I grab onto the nearest chair for support. “This is all my fault,” I whisper, my voice barely audible over the hum of the hospital.
“What?” Esteban asks, stepping closer.
“I was texting him today,” I admit, the guilt clawing at my chest. “It was me. I distracted him.” My hands clutch at my hair as my breaths come faster. “Oh my God, what have I done?”
Esteban places a firm hand on my shoulder, grounding me. “Josy, stop. This isn’t your fault. Noah knows better than to grab his phone while he’s on a roof. I even yelled at him aboutit, but he didn’t listen. He’s been doing this work for years. He should’ve waited until he was back on the ground.”
His words are meant to comfort me, but they do little to lessen the crushing guilt. “But if I hadn’t?—”
“Don’t,” Esteban interrupts, his tone gentle. “Blaming yourself won’t help him right now. Let’s sit down and wait for the doctors. That’s all we can do.”
Numbly, I let him guide me to a chair. The room feels cold and sterile, the fluorescent lights too harsh against the growing darkness in my mind. I sit down, my body heavy with despair.
All I can think about is how I’ve ruined everything. After all these years, I finally had the man of my dreams, only to lose him the very next day. The weight of it all presses against my chest until it’s hard to breathe.
Tears spill over, unstoppable now. I bury my face in my hands, the sobs shaking my body.
Esteban sits beside me, silent but present. His hand rests on my shoulder, a small but steady reminder that I’m not alone, even as my world feels like it’s crumbling.
Austin sits on the other side of me, his silent presence and Esteban’s unwavering support meaning the world to me right now. After thirty minutes, Noah’s parents come rushing through the door, their faces pale with worry. Esteban and Austin immediately stand to greet them, filling them in on what happened to Noah. I can’t even bring myself to look at them. What would they think when they find out it was me who texted him?
