The chair was hideously uncomfortable. It was too soft in the back, too firm on the bottom, and there was a strange wobble to one of the legs so that it never sat perfectly flat on the ground—wholeheartedly a seat that belonged better in an interrogation room than at a hospital bedside.

But she hadn’t moved.

She’d been sitting there for hours, too many to count, simply watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest, afraid that if she got up to leave, even if she looked away for just one second, that it might stop.

“Miss, the cafeteria is still open if you’d like to get something to eat,” one of the nurses was saying, a gentle hand on Taliana’s shoulder. “Or maybe I can get you a cup of coffee?”

But Talia only shook her head. “I’m fine. Thank you, though.”

“Let me know if you need anything.”

The nurse left without another word, leaving Taliana alone with the broken boy. Laleh had promised that he wouldn’t die, but that was already a lie – Michael had flatlined twice already, revived only after a few touch-and-go moments. The first had happened shortly after the paramedics had rushed him in, far before she’d arrived, but the second had happened only a few hours ago when he’d been taken in for emergency surgery. The doctors hadn’t told her much, but it was more than she would have gotten if she hadn’t made the quick decision to claim they were engaged. Even the nurses had taken pity on her, especially since the situation that landed him in here had involved another woman, and told her in secret that she would be allowed to stay past visiting hours if she wanted.

She’d stay here as long as she had to, as long as it took for Michael to open his eyes again—as long as it took for him to be okay again.

She swiped at her cheeks for what felt like the millionth time in the past nineteen hours, somehow still not out of tears to shed. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d cried this much, let alone if she ever had. The broken bones and broken hearts she’d suffered through in her life couldn’t compare to the soul-crushing grief of knowing one of your best friends may not live, and even if they did, never be able to fulfill their dreams.

Fuck, it hurt.

The phone in her lap buzzed just as she went to wipe away another round of tears, and she glanced down at the screen to see Brad’s name flash across it. She’d ignored all of his calls so far and had only replied to one or two of the thirty texts he’d sent her throughout the day. He was worried, she knew that, but she hadn’t had it in her to talk to anyone – not even to her own boyfriend—after she’d made all of the necessary phone calls this morning.

But if she didn’t want miscommunication to end another relationship, she figured they’d have to talk. So with one last wary glance over at Michael, she pushed herself out of the unsteady chair and stepped out into the hall.

“Hello?”

“Thank God,” Brad breathed out, and the sound of his voice had a tired half-smile coming to her lips. “I was so worried you weren’t going to pick up again. How are you, sweetheart? How’s Michael doing?”

“I’m okay, just tired. Really tired. And Michael—” Taliana leaned against the wall, positioned in such a way that she could still see into Michael’s room, could still watch him breathe. “He’s alive.”

“That’s something at least. Have you managed to get ahold of his family?”

“I left a message for his parents, told him what hospital he’s in, but I don’t expect to hear back from them anytime soon. They’re traveling somewhere in southeast Asia right now, and I have no idea what kind of cell reception they have. But to be honest, they’ve never been all that attentive anyway.”

“I couldn’t imagine just ditching my kid like that. He needs his family, especially at a time like this.”

She could hear the scowl in Brad’s voice, could imagine the line that appeared between his eyebrows whenever he was upset, and all she wanted to do in that moment was kiss it smooth again. That’s what she’d done the first night they’d met her sophomore year, a drunken impulse that she couldn’t stop herself from doing.

He had come to her rescue when three boys had cornered her at a frat party one night. Brad had shoved them off of her before the one who wasn’t pinning her wrists to the wall could shove his hands down her pants. Brad had knocked the ringleader straight out, and the other two had scurried off when they realized they were no match for the six-foot-four crew team captain. He’d asked her if she was okay, quickly surveying her for any external damage, that crease appearing between his eyebrows. The only thing she could think to do to thank him was kiss it away.

His face had softened then, a hint of a disbelieving smile appearing, and he’d put a hand to her elbow to help her away from the wall. After that, he’d rounded up her friends and walked them all back to Taliana’s dorm room, making sure they were safely tucked away with bottles of water before taking his leave. When she’d woken the next morning with a hangover from hell and the dirty feeling of being violated on her skin, she’d found a scrap of paper on her desk with a short message and his phone number.

Call me if you want to talk about what happened. Or if you want to hire me as a bodyguard. I’m good with either.

–Bradford

She had called him later that day, and they’d been practically inseparable ever since. Even Michael had approved of Brad after only five minutes of knowing him.

“He looks like he could kick my sissy ass any day,” Michael had snorted, reaching out to pat her on the back like he was congratulating her for finding such a catch. “I like that in a man.”

“Don’t tell me you want to date him,” she’d teased, knowing despite the fact that he was the first to compliment anyone—male or female—Michael was only interested in dating and sleeping with the most beautiful of women.

Still, he had thrown his head back and laughed. “That’s okay, sugartits. I’ll let you keep this one.”

In the present, she could feel the tears welling in her eyes again, sticking in her throat and making her voice thick. “Michael’s friends are his family,” she said to Brad. “I’m his family.”

“I know, sweetheart, and he’s so lucky to have you,” her boyfriend soothed. “What about his other friends? Have you talked to them yet?”

She nodded even though he couldn’t see her. “Jacob knows and he’ll be here as soon as he can, but he has an internship with NASA this summer and I don’t want him to put his career at risk. Marcus and Jude are both in Ghana doing some sort of urban planning work, and they’ll be here as soon as they can get a flight out. Even Laleh is coming apparently.”

“What about your ex?”

“I left him a message, but he’s in India with his girlfriend right now, so I don’t know when he’ll–” She cut short as a soft beep came across the line, and she pulled the phone away from her ear to see she had an incoming call. “Brad, I have to call you back.”

“Let me know if you need me to come to the hospital, all right?”

“I will,” she said distractedly, eager to get to the other caller. “I promise.”

“Good. I love you.”

Normally she had no problem saying the words back to him and always meant them from the absolute bottom of her heart, but the name on her phone had her hesitant this time. “Yeah, you too.”

Brad disconnected and she switched to the other line with trembling hands, drawing in a deep breath before she could bring herself to speak.

“Hi, Sebastian.”