lovestruck † hs

Chapter 68

"She coded", a phrase I've heard too many times in the past five days to even know a meaning for it.

Closer to the evening, Hayley and Jennifer were down in the cafeteria getting dinner and left me alone with my love. I had been sitting by her for hours already, holding her limp hand in mine and trying to focus on her beautiful face and not all the wires and machines in the room.

On the first day, it was all still so fresh in my mind. I did not understand how any of it happened; Rachel did not even get a chance to breathe let alone explain. I couldn't help but replay the whole scene of the phone call and the fight over and over, the chilling thoughts repeatedly causing me to squeeze Rachel's hand a little tighter.

I couldn't help think that despite the blood stained on her forehead and hair, the cold, paleness of her skin and the bruising that lined her forearms, just how beautiful she was. Nearly a week since I last saw her face, and just by looking at her I instantly felt more complete. I wished we were in our bed, there was no blood, no machines, and I was just watching her sleep, not this horrible parallel.

The door suddenly opened, and I was quickly taken out of my thoughts. I looked up to find Matthew, a pained expression washed over his features.

I was suddenly struck with the fact that this man, my Rachel's best friend, was someone I refused to speak to for immature reasons, and guilt surfaced it's way up. He came to be of comfort, and all this time I had known him, I acted like a dick from jealousy I shouldn't have had.

"Oh Harry, I can come back. Jennifer said she was here too, and I just had to know if Rachel—"

"Come in, please," I spoke up, showing a sad smile as I nodded for him to come in. He held a bag with a pastry with the logo of the cafe the two worked at and a bouquet of tulips, her favorite flower.

"I know she likes these cookies, and I didn't know what else would make this room a little brighter," he caught me staring at the gifts he placed upon the small counter.

I gestured at a chair and assured him, "Rachel would appreciate it regardless what it was. Thank you."

He nodded, grabbing the chair and moving it next to mine near the bed. "I um, I'm sorry I'm late. Hospitals are not my thing, they make me queasy."

"You're not alone, mate."

I watched him as he observed her, he placed a hand on her leg and rubbed her a little, his eyes slowly tearing up as she shook his head.

"I'm so sorry," he randomly apologized, his voice breaking.

"What for?"

"Last night, Rachel and I were hanging out. I bumped into her at the drug store and she seemed a bit lost and off. So I invited her to mine for dinner to get her mind off whatever it was so focused on, and she ended up falling asleep on the sofa. She left my house this morning before I could stop her. I could've taken her home," his eyes shed a few tears as he refrained from crying.

His words took me by surprise, and my gaze flickered back to Rachel, then to him.

"Don't feel sorry. She's persistent like me, and doesn't like people driving her around. You shouldn't feel sorry. There's only one person who deserves to feel guilty and pain for this, and it's the monster that did this to her."