Page 39 of Heart Strain

15

Holden

Clinging to Jameson’s hand while we waited to hear Drix’s fate is the only thing that kept me from completely falling apart today. If I’d been alone, I don’t think I would’ve survived it. Now that we’re here and Drix is still breathing, still alive, I don’t want to let go of Jameson’s hand, but I need to feel for myself that my brother’s still with us. So I look into Jameson’s eyes and squeeze his hand in gratitude before releasing him and grabbing my brother’s with both of mine. His skin is so cold and fragile, I’m almost afraid I’ll hurt him.

When we were young—elementary age—Hendrix and I were best friends, but once Mom started making comments about letting him go do his own thing, we grew apart. It wasn’t really Drix’s fault, but I’ll never forget when he stopped asking me to do things with him and his friends. He’d asked me to go skating or to the movies a couple times, and I told him I didn’t want to go even though I did, so he eventually stopped asking me. I suppose being alone all the time was my own doing, but even after all these years, it hurts a little when I remember him having plans that excluded me. Every weekend. And most days of the week. Once we reached high school, I hardly saw him. That’s why I started volunteering at the animal shelter. I didn’t have any friends, no one wanted me to do anything with them, and I couldn’t stand the thought of staying in the house with my mother every day. Once I joined the small team at House of Paws and Claws, I finally felt like I belonged somewhere. And once I moved away, I finally felt free.

But as I stare at my twin brother’s broken body in the hospital bed, all I feel is regret.

What would’ve happened if I’d said yes when he’d invited me out? Would we still be close like we once were? Would I have had friends in middle and high school? Or was Mom right? Would I have just brought him down with me so we both suffered instead of only me? Would he have been bullied, too? Would he have been miserable and resented me for taking him down with me?

As I continue rubbing his knuckles with my thumb, all I can think about is the fact that I miss my brother, that I’ve been missing him for years. But I never did anything about it. Why hadn’t I come back more often? Why hadn’t I talked to him on the phone every day, hell, every week instead of maybe once a month? Why hadn’t I insisted on him visiting me more than he had? Why hadn’t I told him how much he means to me?

And the worst thought of all… what if I never get the chance to make it up to him? What if he never wakes up and I never have a chance to do better?

Jameson sits beside me, and when he places a gentle hand over one of mine on the bed, my heart settles a little and I’m able to slow my racing mind down a bit. I turn my hand over so we’re palm to palm and I lace our fingers together. Jameson holds my hand tightly, then sets his free hand on Drix’s leg. And we sit and stare at my brother and we pray that he wakes up. We don’t speak, but I know that Jameson is praying just as hard as I am for him.

And I feel helpless.

There’s nothing else we can do.

After a few hours of sitting there, Nurse Patricia walks in and quietly says, “Visiting hours are over, guys. You should go home and get some rest.”

“We can’t stay?” I whisper.

She shakes her head. “Holden, you need to get some sleep, you’ve been here for almost twenty-four hours. I promise we’ll call you if anything changes, but… he’s stable now.”

I nod weakly, then glance at Jameson. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want to leave, either, but he still gives me a weak smile as he squeezes my hand and stands. He leans across me to whisper into Drix’s ear and kiss his forehead before releasing me and backing away.

I swallow thickly, then kiss Drix’s temple and whisper, “You’re not allowed to go, okay? Come back to us, Drix… I love you.” Then I nod at Nurse Patricia and follow Jameson out of the room.

We’re quiet as he drives me to his house to pick Peanut back up. He’s going to drive Peanut and me home after we get him, but all I can think about is the fact that he’s not going to drive me home, he’s going to drive me to my parents’ old house. To that house that’s filled with so many demons, I don’t think I can stand the sight of it when I already feel this raw.

I can’t be alone right now. I can’t.

Jameson quietly asks, “How do you want to do this? Do you want to run in and grab him or should I?” I don’t respond right away because I don’t know how to ask him what I want.

When he parks in his driveway, I feel panic grip me, and without really thinking about what I’m saying, I blurt, “Can I come in with you?”

His eyebrows shoot up. “What?”

I bite my lip and look away, thinking about the house that I’ve hated since I was a kid. The house that my brother isn’t in… will he ever be back? Will he ever wake up?

“Holden?” Jameson’s voice is quiet and soft. “Let’s go inside, okay?”

I glance at him; he’s weary and somber, but his eyes hold that kindness I’ve grown used to with him. So I nod and whisper, “Thank you.”

He smiles sadly at me, then turns off the car and we head inside. My dog is excited to see us, which brings a reluctant smile to my face. Simba and Nala greet us at the door, and Peanut gives them each a sniff before trotting to the back door to ask to go out, acting like he owns the place. Jameson picks up Simba, so I scoop up Nala and follow him while he lets Peanut do his business, then we head into the living room.

Sitting on the couch together, I sag down, feeling defeated and completely run down after everything that happened today—yesterday—last night—whatever. I still can’t believe how pale Drix looked when they finally pulled him through. I still can’t believe we almost lost him. Again. Tears threaten to fall, so I hug the kitten to my chest to keep them at bay.

“He’s going to be alright,” Jameson suddenly says.

I look at him. “How do you know?”

He blows out a breath. “I guess… I don’t, but… he has to be okay.” His eyes look as shiny as mine feel.

“What if he isn’t?” I croak before the dam finally breaks.

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