Page 82 of Twins For My Bestie's Brother

“I’m taking Lily to the hospital. Meet us there.”

It took me a moment to process what she was saying. “What? Why?”

Kayla didn’t clarify. “See you soon.”

At that moment, I knew she knew. It was the smallness of her voice, the response both insistent and delicate.

Lily. The baby.

I’ve been thinking about it nonstop since she left Banff. I wanted to go after her but hesitated too long. When I finally got the nerve to call her, my phone went to voicemail again and again, and my texts weren’t going through.

Time. I thought I’d give her time. To cool off and allow me to explain myself again, give her the reaction she deserved to news like that. I was giving her time to need me again the way I needed her. And then, when the door was open again, I could explain myself. Apologize. Recommit myself to her and our child.

I thought wehad time.

But now I don’t know.

If the universe is punishing me, why does it have to punish Lily too? Fine, take her away from me, keep my unborn child at arm’s length. I’d deserve it. But don’t punish her too. Please,God, don’t punish her too.

The ER receptionist seems to know who I am before I say anything, gesturing for me to go back through the doors. Maybe she can tell by the strained look on my face or the desperate speed at which I’m moving, seemingly not in control of my limbs or how my body moves through space. I don’t care how I look or what people might think. I need to get to Lily.

I rush down the hall, past a few doctors walking way too slowly to be working in the Emergency Room and a few worried family members until I see Kayla pacing outside a room.

“Kay,” I try to call out to her, but my voice is all jagged rough edges.

When Kayla sees me, she runs to meet me. We catch each other by the arms.

“What’s wrong? Is Lily alright? What happened?” the questions pour out of me without waiting for an answer.

“She’s okay; she’s not in any pain. A doctor’s already been by to see her,” Kayla explains.

I search my sister’s face as if there might be more to her answer in the downturn of her lips or solemn eyes.

“She started bleeding, Jackson.”

I swallow. “She told you about . . . ”

Kayla nods. “She might be losing it.”

The upheaval of terror in my gut surprises me. I worry a hand across my face, scraping my unkempt beard in the process. “Fuck. Fuck me. Why didn’t I . . . ” I make my hand into a fist and press it to my forehead.

“I don’t know what you did or said to her, but you have to fix this.”

“I know I do,” I say, squeezing my eyes tight. “But if I hadn’t—if I just had—” My breath is coming hard and fast. “This wouldn’t have happened if I had just . . . ”

“Don’t talk like that,” Kayla says, grabbing my arms tighter. “This wasn’t in anyone’s control, okay?”

“What if the stress—“ I try to swallow again, but my jaw is so tight it hurts. “What if I caused it? Why didn’t I just go see her and—”

Kayla wraps her hands around my face. “Jackson, look at me.”

My body bristles at being forced to look into my sister’s eyes, but they meet hers, nevertheless. Trembling blue reflecting trembling blue.

“Life,” she says, the word breaking in half due to the intensity of her feelings. “It happens. You can let it crush you. Or you can keep trying. And showing up.”

My chest tightens.

“Don’t be like Mom, okay? Don’t let it crush you.”

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