It happened after he received the call from the hospital. Brinda was on ventilation, a sudden cardiac arrest followed by neurological dysfunction. While the doctor explained that Brinda might not survive the day, I could feel how silent and rigid Jake had been throughout the conversation.
Later, when we were sitting beside Brinda. All I could see was her fragile, pale figure attached to the IV while the ventilator breathed for her. Jake took Brinda's veiny, crinkled hand in his callous hands, careful not to disturb the channel tapped for IV drips. He brought his lips lightly to her aging skin, squeezed his eyes tightly, and mumbled sorry on a repeat. I stood there beside him, clasping my hands together to contain my emotions.
I had been in that situation before when my grandfather was in place of Brinda. Death is inevitable. But it leaves behind wreckage for your loved ones to handle for a lifetime. A lone tear fell from my eyes as the heartbeat monitor flatlined, and a static beep filled the silence of the ward.
A nurse rushed to the room, followed by the doctor, but Jake stayed where he was with Brinda's lifeless hand in his shaking ones. Only when I walked up to him and placed my hands on his, he let go of her hand, jerking away from the bed. It looked as if he pulled out of a daze. A painful look appeared on his entire face but soon replaced fury and something much more. It was self-loathing.
"It's my fault," he chuckled, dry and angry. He ran a hand through his tousled hair. His eyes were red and glossy. "I fucked it all up again."
In quick strides, I followed him as he scrambled out of the ward, rushing through the corridor. "Jacob, it's not your fault."
"Yeah, but it is." He said, giving a last look towards the ward where Brinda's lifeless body remained. "I couldn't even apologize."
He cursed loudly, landing a hard punch on the wall, which drew everyone's attention around us. The caretakers from the Retirement house looked equally shocked and distraught. But my eyes were on his bloodied knuckles and his dark eyes as he fell on his knees. He buried his face in both of his palms.
I sat in front of him, throwing my arms around his shaking frame as he continued to release uncontrolled sobs.
He looked so broken that it hurt.
~~~
He didn't show up in our first class. It was the last day before the finals, and I had a couple of pending assignments to submit.
I knew he needed the space or maybe not, but he wouldn't allow me in. After his breakdown at the hospital, he didn't speak a single word. I wanted to know why he thought it was his fault and what apologies he was seeking from Brinda. But I knew it would only trigger him further if I asked him when clearly, he was in mourning.
"And that wraps up our last module for this semester." Professor Laurent tapped on the board, pulling me back into the class. I shifted my eyes to the scowling Professor as he continued to share some of his infamous methods to go through with the finals. I dug my head in my notes till the lecture ended.
While everyone headed to their next class or the cafeteria, I took extra time to pack my things. The hallway started emptying as I made my way to the library instead of going in the direction of the clattering trays and buzzing conversation across the hall. I pulled out my water bottle and twisted to uncap it when a locker shut to my right. I looked up to see Chris and immediately drew my guards.
Chris followed my actions. I raised the bottle to my lips and drank two big gulps before twisting the cap back. I held his gaze continuing on my way up the stairs and walk past the lockers.
But with a quick reflex, he had me caging against the last locker in the row. His hands were on either side of my head.
"Looks like it's just us, love," he sneered, his face turning leaned a little making me glare at him. "It seems your boyfriend has already lost interest in you."
"Get the fuck away from me," I gritted my teeth and pushed his arm to get away from his presence. He didn't budge from his position. His stench had me gagging, but I kept my mask on. "You disgust me, and I warned you before, I will warn you again. Don't ever call me love."
"Why? Don't you know your so-called boyfriend, or is he even sure about that, played so many girls before you? And the fun fact is," he had an ugly smile on his face. "He wasn't even drunk to reason it out? So, it's only fair that you get to have some of the fun too."
I darted my eyes around to look if someone could help if I called out. The hallway was empty.
"You know," he continues. "I have this insatiable desire to take you since the moment I first laid my eyes on you. And I don't think it's ever going to burn out not until I have you to my heart's content. Jake doesn't have to know about it. He isn't around anyway. What do you say?"
"You are sick. You know that. If you don't step away, I'm going to take this to the Chancellor personally."
"I haven't even touched you yet. Who will believe you?" He whispered, leaning against my ear.
I pushed his arm as hard as possible, wrestling to escape.
"Do you think they will believe if I showed them these pictures," Seb's voice echoed through the hallways, and I heard his shoes squeak across the floor. "I heard you're about to get drafted. Do you think they will cancel it if I send these along with my words to them?"
"Watch out, man," Chris cast an amused smile, doubt flickering in his eyes. "That may cost you a friend and a teammate here and all that for a girl."
"She isn't just a girl. She's a friend unlike you." Seb waved his cellphone with one hand while the other hand was inside his jeans pockets. He looked as calm as always.
Chris pushed off the locker, running his hand through his hair and cursing under his breath.
"You're not so sainted either. I saw you trying to get a piece the other day on the bleachers. Too bad Jake interrupted your moment." He let out a dry chuckle shoving both of his hands in his pockets and walking away backward, keeping his eyes on me. "You're not so special, you know."
"Thank you," I said as Seb walked up to me. I stepped away from the locker, adjusting the backpack on my shoulder.
"You don't need to thank me, Amy," he spoke quietly, putting away his cellphone and walking beside me. "But I'll settle for buying you a milkshake and seeking an apology."
"Apology?" I stopped walking to look at him.
"The other day, I acted so out of the line, a total neanderthal." He leaned on his side, pushing the door to the cafeteria open with his shoulder. "So, I'm hoping to get a second chance at our friendship."
I turned to survey the genuine sparks in his eyes and saw the person I met the first time. "Milkshake for an apology," I said while he ordered two Choc malts and led us to the empty table.
"I'm sorry on Jake's behalf," I said as he slid into a chair on the other side of the table. His eyes narrowed as to analyze my words, then let out a low chuckle.
"Of course he told you that," he scoffed. "He punched me. For good reasons, I suppose."
We both laughed and sipped our Milkshakes in silence.
"Seb," I asked, swirling the straw in the frothy milk. "Can I ask you something about Jake's past?"
Seb eyed me quietly and nodded.
"Do you know why he has such a strong attachment with Brinda?" I asked.
He paused, silence crept into his soul, and he struggled to hold my gaze.
"Did he tell you about her?" He finally asked.
I pursed my lips, blinking at him. "Is there something I should know because it's damn difficult to watch him suffer alone? Ever since her death, he seems to be a non-functioning human being. He barely said two words in the last three days. I don't care if he doesn't want to share, but I sure as hell want to know."
Leaning over the table, he took my hand in his and released a sigh. "I can tell you, but you've to promise me that it won't change anything. Jake is sensitive. He always has been. I've seen him grow alongside Anna, and over the past year, I've seen him falling apart. It all changed when he met you. You've restored him or, to some extent, helped him go back to himself."
"I don't want to lose him," I whispered. "But it feels like he is drifting away."
He sucked in a sharp breath, letting go of my hand and leaning against his chair. "It was the car wreck that took away Anna's life and a part of Jacob's life too."
Jake had told me about the accident that gave him the ugly scar on his forehead, and he talked about Anna's death. But he never mentioned they were related. My heart suddenly picked up its speed as Seb pinched the bridge of his nose. I could feel the pain in his eyes as he remembered his deceased sister.
"That night, they were not the only ones who lost something. The driver of the other car lost his life too. There were three victims. Two died, one survived and dying every day ever since. Anna died on the spot, but Jake and the other victim were rushed to the nearest hospital. The other victim, Ethan, passed away during the surgery. Jake was the only survivor or not. He was in a coma for days, and when he woke up, it wasn't over for him either."
I gasped, and my hand went to my throat as I struggled to breathe. Seb's head was hung low, and his shoulders heaved with tension.
"Ethan was Brinda's son," his eyes met mine, and they were red. "It was an accident, Amy. You should know that."
Tears pooled in my eyes, and as I tried to swallow them, they broke through the barricade of my resistance. I didn't know how to process all the information. Was I suppose to blame Jake for the entire thing? Or was I supposed to feel sorry for him? I had no idea what to feel and what not to feel. But I knew now why Jake had been hurting so much.
"Did he blame all of it on Ethan? The wreck, I mean," I asked, holding in my breath. The Jake I knew would never do such a thing.
"It was his father," he explained. "Nicolas is a man of pride- if nothing. He couldn't let his or his son's name be dragged in anything remotely near to legal proceedings. And if anything, Jake blames it all on himself. Even after he came out of the coma, he was ready to take the blame on himself. But by then, everything was over. He still resents his father and me to some extent for all of it."
That was the reason why he couldn't stop constantly hurting himself and not accepting the happy moments at the first chance he got. He was punishing himself. But didn't he deserve the pain? No one deserves to harbor something this dark for a lifetime.
"So that's why he took care of Brinda," I clipped. I didn't know why but I couldn't stop thinking about the people who lost their lives to the tragedy, including Seb. "as compensation, to make amends."
"It wasn't him, Amy," Seb said, looking straight into my eyes. I narrowed my eyes to capture what he wanted to convey. But suddenly, it struck me, and I had to take in more information than I could stomach.
"It was Anna."
My heart fell into my stomach, and my mind stuttered with just one name.
Jacob.
Oh, my God