Page 17 of Dare to Need

But the longer I sat in that chair next to my brother and across from the woman I loved, I felt the panic rise. I had to get away from their sad eyes or all the pain I felt was going to burst through my cracked walls—unleashing unholy hell.

Silence was better anyway. Neither one of them deserved to know the shit that was running rampant through my mind.

But there was no escaping them now. Not as the driver my mother called for us drove us up to the awning at the entrance of the hospital.

“Are you ready?” Eva’s angelic voice floated to my ears. With a single nod, I continued to stare out the window, completely unable to look at her. Knowing the moment I did, the flood gates would open and there would be nothing I could do to stop them.

If it were any other time, I would have relished in the heightened state of my senses. How time seemed to slow down while everyone around us blurred by. It was a strange sensation and there was a small part of me that wanted to harness the moment so I might paint its obscurity one day.

Though, there was a more dominant part of me that hoped to never look back on this moment. To leave it in the shadows where it belonged.

In a maddening shift, everything sharpened as Eva took my hand and Garrett walked by my other side. Making our way up the front steps, I tried desperately not to look at the patients hunched over in wheelchairs, or the man in scrubs leaning on the side of the building smoking a cigarette he undoubtedly knew was bad for him.

Just before we reached the doors, I stopped, my entire body going rigid, unwilling to move. What little breath I had was caught in my throat.

Images of a not-so-distant past zipped through my mind. Holding my grandfather’s hand as he took his final breaths. Sterile white walls closed in on me as I lost my best friend. The look on Lucas’ face when the doctor told all of us that Lilly wasn’t going to make it. How he didn’t shed a single tear when she died so that he could be strong for his mom and dad. One image right after another assaulted me like a freight train destined to run me over.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Eva moving until she was standing in front of me. An ethereal glow framed her body as she looked up at me. The softness of her hands as she cupped my cheeks was startling and comforting all at once—almost as though I’d forgotten what it felt like to feel something tangible.

Effortlessly, I found myself leaning into her touch. Letting it ground me as the images in my mind finally stilled.

“I’m going to be with you every step of the way, Garth. I promise I’m not going anywhere. And no matter what happens beyond those doors, everything will be okay. Maybe not right now. Maybe not a year down the road. But it will be eventually.” A weary smile took the place of the worried frown she’d donned since my mother called this morning.

I didn’t know if it was the words spoken or the woman who said them, but at that moment I had a glimmer of hope. The truth behind her words settled deep in my soul—I clung to them like a lifeline.

Looking to my right, I took in Garrett’s face. His deep brown eyes reflected the worry I felt. Through all the years of arguments I’d had with our father, I never once considered how it might have impacted him. Witnessing the divide in our family from such a young age, I wondered if it shaped him into the patient and considerate man he was today. Or maybe he was more adept at burying it all.

I didn’t want what was waiting for us behind those doors to be one more thing that I messed up for him. I needed to step up for my younger brother. Show him what stability truly meant in times of adversity.

Though I wasn’t sure how I was going to convey strength at this moment, I knew I had to at least try.

So I planted a hand on his shoulder and said, “She’s right. Whatever happens in there...we will be okay.”

Garrett’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he gave a slight nod. It wasn’t much, but it was all I could give him at that moment. I just hoped it was enough to give him something to lean on.

Turning back toward Eva, I wrapped my hand around the back of her head and pulled her in for a swift kiss to her forehead. I breathed in the familiar scent of lilac, letting it settle my ragged nerves as I inhaled deeply.

“Okay, let’s go,” I breathed against her skin before pulling back.

The cold air burned my lungs as we rode the elevator to the cardiac ICU floor. As the doors sprung open, my heart skipped a beat. Those haunting images of my grandfather and Lilly clouded my vision as Eva gently guided me out of the elevator and down the long hallway.

Sweat formed in my palms as I dared to look into the rooms we passed. The first one on the left housed an elderly woman, her mouth slightly ajar as she slept. Curly white hair poked out in all directions. A pearlescent glow from the various colors just under the surface of her skin made her look peaceful, though I knew the reality was that it meant she was fragile.

Just as I looked away, Eva squeezed my hand. A disheveled mop of dark hair popped out of another room halfway down the hall. Once the person looked our way, my heart stopped in my chest. Never had I seen my mother look like this. Not during the holidays when my father would storm off to his study after we’d had a big fight. Nor when Garrett was the last to leave the nest and she felt alone in the big house we grew up in.

The way her shoulders curved forward and how her clothes hung on her slight frame as though she hadn’t eaten anything for days made my stomach churn. This was not the strong woman who endured so much throughout her life and made everyone around her all the better for it. No. The woman standing in front of us—tears lining the rims of her eyes—was broken.

“Mom!” Garrett exclaimed as he left my side and rushed toward her. Somehow, she seemed even smaller when he took her into his arms. I tried to swallow back the sob that clutched my throat as she peered at me through the crook of his arm, but there was no keeping it back.

Hot tears fell freely from my eyes as I finally took a step forward, grasping onto Eva’s hand. Shaky knees made it difficult to walk, but I tried to steady myself as my mother threw one of her arms open—calling me for an embrace.

Eva let go of my hand just as my mother wrapped hers around my arm, tugging me into her and Garrett.

It felt as though all the tension from the past decade flowed around us. A permanent reminder that life was too damn short to be fighting with those we loved. It washed over us in thrashing waves as we held onto one another, not a single tear was held back. Not as we realized—together—the gravity of the situation and the kind of loss we could be facing.

I wasn’t sure how long we stood there for, but as my mother took a step back I’d realized that Eva was standing on the other side of her, their hands intertwined.

My mother let out a long exhale and rolled her shoulders back. As she rubbed her hand up and down my arm, she looked at each one of us lovingly. “I’m so glad you’re all here,” she said as she squeezed my hand. “Now that we got all that crying out of the way, I can give you an update. Let’s go over here.”

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