“Dr. Roberts, calling Dr. Roberts. You’re needed on the third floor, room 307. Dr. Roberts to room 307…”
She ignored the sounds of the intercom and the beeping of monitors. She quickly walked through the crowded corridor of the Intensive Care Unit of the Good Samaritan Hospital in Los Angeles. Her heart was racing in her chest. The phone call did not sound good. But then again, most phone calls to report to a hospital at two in the morning were never good. The last time she was at the hospital at this hour, she wasn’t a visitor. And she wasn’t single.
“Her resps are down to eight! Let’s intubate, people! What about her head?”
“Cynthia! Is she going to be okay?”
“Get the boyfriend out of here! Seems to be a depressed skull fracture, won’t matter though if she bleeds out of her chest first. Let’s get her some Dilantin and Mannitol, quick.”
“Oh God! Cynthia, baby. Hang on. Just hang on, baby, please.”
Shuddering at the voices and blurry images flooding her mind, she focused on why she was here now. It had been so long since she had last seen him. Three years to be exact. She had no idea what she would say if she faced him again, she only knew that she had to.
When she finally turned the corner to the last hall on the floor she saw a group of familiar faces gathered around the chairs on the left wall, faces that she never thought she would see all together again. She had left behind that sort of family relationship. But as she stepped closer to the huddle, she felt a pair of blue eyes peer at her in a welcoming gaze. The man stood from his seat, pushing back the tall figure that stood ahead of him. Walking towards her, he smiled as if he was grateful for her appearance, but his eyes held no sparkle.
“Cynthia, oh God, I’m so glad you came!” He pulled her into a tight hug, exhaling a deep breath into her chocolate brown hair as he held her against his frame. Letting go, he slid his trembling hands down the sides of her arms to reach her hands. Holding them, he whispered, “He’s slipped into unconsciousness about fifteen minutes ago when the doctors brought him to his room, right after I called you.”
Cynthia frowned at the man before her. His eyes were wide and glazed over in a blank, yet worried expression. His usual jovial expression was now swiped away with a look of despair. This definitely was not good.
“Brian, what’s going on? You call me in the middle of the night telling me to rush over here! Do you know how much that scared me? So, please, tell me what happened.”
The tall figure had moved from his position in front of the chairs and was now leaning against the door of what Cynthia presumed was Nick’s room. He cleared his throat to gather her attention. His voice was cold and distant and so were his green eyes. Cynthia knew he had no desire to see her around here, but he was much too polite to ever say so.
“A truck blindsided him when he was driving down the street, hitting his car so hard that it flipped three times.”
Cynthia gasped while pulling her hands to her mouth. Another voice began to finish the details, a gentle voice that she could never mistake. He spoke slowly and hesitantly as though each word was forbidden.
“He wasn’t wearing a seatbelt. He flew out of the windshield on the second flip, landed on some broken glass. He’s got…deep cuts all over his body and a lot of in…inter…” A lump rose into the man’s throat making it hard for him to finish.
“I know, D. I know.” Brian let go of Cynthia’s hands and went back to his seat beside Howie and rubbed his back. “He’s going to be alright.”
“He had a lot of internal bleeding that the doctors had to take care of.” The previous voice continued for Howie, adverting attention away from the seated men. “He’s been slipping in and out of consciousness, only staying awake a few minutes at a time. The doctors said he freaked out when he awoke in the operating table. They had to sedate him and he’s been out ever since.”
She nodded her head as she tried to grasp all the information she was just fed. No, it wasn’t her first time being in the hospital for a car wreck that involved Nick. But now the tables were turned and it scared her so much. Thoughts of how all this could have happened rushed into her head. Was it the same as the last time? Was he driving home, too? Did he convince himself that it was okay to drive? She couldn't believe this was happening. Cynthia could feel her chest grow tighter with each question. She needed to sit down before she fainted. As she looked for an extra chair in the hall, she did a double take to a blonde figure slumped in the corner. His head was down, resting on the hands that were kept up by his knees. Walking to him, she kneeled in front of the young man while she placed a hand gently on one knee.
“Aaron, are you okay?”
She remembered how much she had loved the boy. She still did. But like her relationship with Nick and the rest of the men, she ended everything as soon as she said those final words.
Aaron slowly sat up in recognition of her soft voice. He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped when a harsh whisper interrupted him. His eyes moved past Cynthia’s head to see his brother’s friends talk as if they couldn’t hear them.
“Why the hell is she here, Brian? I thought we agreed not to call her!”
“I didn’t agree to that! You’re the one who said it, not me. You know why I called her, Kevin. I won’t let you stand in the way this time.”
When his brown eyes left Kevin and Brian to look into Cynthia’s blue ones, he whispered so quietly that she barely heard him.
“I have to talk to you. Alone.”
