Page 111 of Something Borrowed

She scrunches her nose and knots her brows and tosses in her lost space - lock up inside her own mind. I talk to her and she quietens down, other times my voice makes her panic worse.

I am helpless. But not hopeless.

If I lose hope that she will come back to me then I’ve lost the will to live.

In moments of peace, she seems joyful, as if she could stay lost in her own mind forever.

I talk to her to remind her I love her and I want her back. I tell her not to give up.

The hospital chairs are uncomfortable. Everything is uncomfortable.

I need to move so I stand up and pace up and down along the hospital passage outside her private room. Not far away. I want to be here when she opens her eyes. I want to be the first thing she sees.

But I can’t take the constant, methodical beep of her heart monitor because I’ve become so fixated on it - and terrified it will come to a sudden stop.

It’s taunting me and I listen to it for hours with intense fear growing inside me.

I’m driving myself insane. Sick to my stomach.

I’ve never felt this stressed in my entire life.

I can’t lose her.

And I can’t live with myself if I am the one who killed her.

“Is she awake yet?” I turn towards my brother’s voice - a tight knot forming in my stomach. Masaccio is standing in the hospital passage with a take away coffee in his hand. “Here - this is for you. Thought you might need it.” His other hand is shoved into his pocket and he doesn’t appear to be confrontational in any sense, but I never know with him. Sometimes he tries to manipulate me with the pretense of calm.

“What are you doing here?” I snarl, not at all interested in any lectures right now. If he’s here to tell me I fucked up–he can save it. I’m not in a listening mood.

“Just came to see how you were doing.” He shrugs, putting the coffee down on a little table nearby.

I look at it for a while. I really need a coffee, but I can’t tell if it’s a gesture of peace or not. Whatever. It’s coffee. It smells amazing.

Picking it up, I shake my head. “She hasn’t woken up yet. I’m losing my mind waiting.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He sighs. “She’s a strong girl though. I’m sure she will be fine.”

I sip the coffee, savoring the dark sweet taste for a moment. Then I sigh and clench my jaw. Let’s just get straight to the point.

“Mas, just tell me why you’re really here so we can get this over with.”

He pulls his mouth tight and sets his eyes on me. “We were all worried about you. Everyone wanted to come down and see you, especially Dalila. She threw a flat out tantrum when I asked her not too, for now - I asked them to let me come alone - uh - just to smooth things out first. I came to say that I’m sorry for the way we handled things.”

I study him carefully, looking for any signs of insincerity, but finding none.

My eyes trace over the cut on his cheek. It’s not bad. When it heals, you won’t even see the scar. But I still feel bad about it.

“Ok.” I reply.

His shifts his weight from one foot to the other.

The awkward silence between us is made worse by the fact that I know I need to apologize too.

“Alright then.” Masaccio says with a soft smile. “I’ll head out. But if you need anything, let me know.” He turns to walk away. “And I’ll tell our sister she can come visit if she wants to.”

“Wait.” I huff.

Stopping, he glances over his shoulder.

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