Page 132 of Heartstruck at Dawn
Dr. Lindström walked back inside the private waiting room. I didn’t even notice him leaving before. “Take this,” he said, offering me a small paper cup with a pill and a glass of water.
There was no need to ask what it was to know that I wanted to push that pill down into my system. I was sure it would help me forget. For a while, at least. I’d rather deal with the pain later.
I angled the cup on my tongue, swallowed the pill with water, and dropped the glass on the table. All I needed was to disconnect myself from reality. I wasn’t strong enough to deal with this. The cut was deep. Intolerable. Unbearable.
He’s not dead.He can’t be.
No.
I shut my eyes, my feet fidgeting on the floor as I waited for the pill to numb me out. To borrow the pain and hopefully forget to return it to me.
“Would you like to see William?” Dr. Lindström offered.
“Yes,” I replied too quickly. Too desperate. I rose from my seat, and so did my father. Caleb was gone, but I couldn’t lose William too. I needed to see for myself that he was okay, that he would get through this.
“He’s in his room, but he’s still asleep,” Dr. Lindström said. “And he might be for a while. I can only have one of you come inside for now.” He looked at William’s brothers as if waiting for their opinion on the matter.
I glanced over my shoulder at Lily, Joel, and Tobias and implored with my eyes.Let me be the first to go inside.Joel replied with a simple nod.
“Are you sure you’re okay to go?” my father asked. “You just took the medication. Perhaps we should take you home and rest for a while. We can come back later. William’s very well taken care of. He’s going to be okay.”
I’d already heard that last night, and now Caleb was dead.
“No. I need to see him. Please,” I begged.Please don’t take me home.I didn’t even want to set foot in my apartment.
“Okay,” he replied with a hint of a smile. I hugged him.Thank you. “I’ll be around taking care of everything for Caleb. Johnson and Robbins will be with you until Aaron and David come back, yes?” I nodded as involuntary tears rolled down my cheeks. My mind couldn’t comprehend what was happening anymore, but my heart knew everything, and it was weeping.
I followed Dr. Lindström to William’s room. Johnson and Robbins waited outside when I stepped in. There was an area to the left with a large three-seater sofa, a comfy-looking armchair, and a white marble coffee table. Dr. Lindström slid open a wooden door, and there he was. Sleeping beside a huge window at the far end of the room that overlooked the city.
There were three doors to my right that led to God knows where. William’s hospital bed was bigger than usual—wider, longer. It’s as if I had stepped into a hotel suite. It was impressive. I didn’t even know these kinds of rooms existed.
Dr. Lindström showed me where an emergency button was behind the bed, just in case, and suggested I stayed for a little while because I would soon get sleepy. He told me to call him if I needed anything and excused himself to leave.
I carefully pulled a chair next to William’s bed and sat there, looking at him. He looked so pale—gray. He wasn’t shining brightly as he always did, and it killed me.
His hand felt cold when I took it.
It was still somewhat dark outside, but an early morning waxing crescent moon was drawn up in the sky.
That moon.
I shut my eyes for a second and squeezed William’s hand. My heart ached as my mind went back to Caleb. He couldn’t be dead. It couldn’t be true.
Wake up!I screamed inside my head—at me, at William.
And then my eyelids felt heavy. I couldn’t make myself open them. An intense feeling of lassitude invaded me at once. This wasn’t the same pill Dr. Lindström gave me a few months ago. This was stronger. It’s as if my energy was being drained from me.
I settled my cheek on William’s bed and allowed myself to fade away.
Seconds or minutes later, I wouldn’t know how many, I felt a slight tug on my hand that made me pull myself back into awareness. I straightened on my seat to see William’s face. His eyelids were shuttered, almost closed.
He licked his dry lips and whispered with a low, raspy voice, “I love the smell of me on you.”
“Hey,” I replied softly. I stood up from the chair and sat on the bed beside him. He groaned as my weight made him shift slightly. “I’m sorry.” I got up again and released his hand to avoid hurting him, but he complained.
“Sit. Hand,” he muttered, tapping the bed. I gently sat again and held his hand as instructed. He brushed his fingers against my cast. “How’s your wrist?”
“Shut up,” I replied, crying with a smile. He smiled back with a groan. He wasn’t supposed to be asking me howIwas doing. He’d been shot and had just come out of surgery because of me. My broken wrist was nothing compared to that. Not even close.
