In which I fall in love with my brother's best friend.
*****
"Don't pretend like you don't feel anything." His voice is low, sending shivers down my spine.
"What do you mean?"
"You know damn well what I mean."
"I don't know what you're talking about...
"But, we will do our best," the doctor says, and I can hear the determination in his voice.
When he closes the door, I collapse onto my knees and break down, feeling Jake's arms wrapping around me.
Vaughn's words echo again in my ears.
"I'm sorry."
More tears fall on my cheeks, the lump in my throat getting bigger.
"I messed it up."
My chest tightens, and I grip it harshly.
"I didn't mean to hurt you."
My sobs break even more, his words keep playing in my mind.
How can you leave me like this, Vaughn? I haven't even given you a proper answer. You haven't even heard it.
I won't forgive you if you leave me now, Vaughn. Do you hear me? I won't.
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Hours pass by, and we still haven't heard anything good from the operation room. The surgery takes so long, making me feel numb as I keep praying for it to go well.
Mom and Dad have arrived from New York. They went to the airport as soon as they heard the news. And here I am now, sitting beside Mom while she's trying to comfort me, stroking my hair gently as I lay my head on her shoulder.
Vaughn's parents arrive, and that makes us abruptly stand up. Vaughn's mom and dad have just taken the flight from Michigan, and they look devastated. Their only child is struggling between life and death.
Mom is the first person who approaches them. She lets out a small cry as Vaughn's mom bursts into tears. Mom hugs her, whispering her soothing words, trying to comfort her. Meanwhile, Vaughn's dad seems to lose the ability to speak as he leans his back against the wall, staring at the blank space before him with an empty look.
My throat hurts even more. They're suffering. If it weren't because of me, Vaughn wouldn't be here in critical condition. His life is on the line now.
He took three bullets for me. It's all my fault.
The door to the operation room finally opens, and that makes us all immediately rush to it. The doctor stands by the door. He opens his mask and sighs, making my heart thump hard against my ribs as I wait in anticipation for what he's going to say.
I don't even breathe.
"We've finished the operation. It took quite some time to pull out all the bullets," the doctor says. "But he hasn't survived the danger." His voice is filled with concern. "He still needs to pass the critical point. We have to wait for him. I'm afraid to say that in this case, the probability for him to open his eyes again is 50:50. At the meantime, we will transfer him to the designated room."
