Page 33 of His Heart

His eyes were closed, his neck bent. Blood flowed freely from a gash on the front of his head. Covered his forehead, stuck in his hair.

Fear made my hands shake. This couldn’t be happening. I put a trembling hand in front of his nose and mouth and felt a whisper of breath. Relief poured through me. He was breathing. He was alive.

The man was still talking, but I didn’t know what he’d said.

“Hurry,” I said, my voice filled with the panic that threatened to overtake me. “Hurry, he needs help.”

“They’re coming, miss,” the man said. “Help is coming.”

* * *

Machines beepedand a huff of air poured into Liam’s lungs. He looked so fragile. So frail. His head was covered in heavy bandages and a breathing tube went down his throat. There were tubes and wires everywhere. I didn’t know what half of them did.

I squeezed his hand, but he didn’t squeeze mine back. It had been days, and he hadn’t woken up. Hadn’t responded. He just lay there, machines doing the work to keep his blood pumping, his lungs inflating.

My injuries hadn’t been life-threatening. I was bruised and battered, but nothing was broken. I’d been released from the ER after a few hours, and joined Liam’s family in the waiting room.

Sometime the next day, we’d been led to another waiting room. Doctors had talked to his parents and I’d listened in numb silence. Severe head injury. Lack of brain activity. Not much hope. They’d do more tests. Check again.

For the past several days, we’d waited, hoping for a change. Hoping for some sign of life.

Police had come and asked me questions about the crash. I couldn’t remember much. They told me we’d been hit by a larger truck. Forced off the road. We’d flipped and rolled over several times. All I knew was that it had happened so fast. Just one second, and the solid ground beneath us had disappeared and the world had gone crazy.

It hadn’t really stopped spinning. At least not for me.

The nurse came in and led me back to the waiting room. We weren’t allowed to stay with him for very long. I didn’t want to leave him, but I knew I didn’t have a choice. I’d argued the first time, begging them to let me stay, but they’d threatened to make me leave the hospital. So I’d gone quiet and obeyed.

A doctor was in the waiting room, talking to the Harpers. Brian’s face was impossible to read—expressionless—but I could see the strain of him holding something inside. Mary was pale, and tears streamed down Olivia’s cheeks.

I stopped in my tracks. Mary met my eyes, her pain reaching out to mingle with mine. In that moment, I knew what they were going to say. I knew why the doctor was there, and it wasn’t because he had good news.

“Oh, Brooke,” Mary said when I approached. She clutched my hands and I sank into the chair beside her. “Honey, I’m so sorry.”

I looked up at the doctor. The compassion in his eyes squeezed my chest. “He’s gone, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” he said. “As I was explaining to the rest of your family, Liam isn’t in a coma. There’s no sign of any brain activity. That means he’s medically deceased.”

“His heart is beating,” I whispered.

“Only because he’s on life support,” he said. “I know this can be hard to understand, but Liam isn’t alive anymore. He’s gone.”

I didn’t hear the rest. Something about organ donation and giving us time to say goodbye. None of it mattered to me. Nothing mattered anymore.

* * *

I sat with Liam,holding his hand for the last time. His fingers were limp and cold. The machines still did their job, moving blood through his veins, putting oxygen in his lungs. But it was all a sham. He was dead. Whatever made a person who they are, whatever spark had been inside of him that had made him alive, was gone. Extinguished.

Tears slipped down my cheeks, silent and terrible. The heaviness of my grief weighed me down, threatening to crush me. I didn’t know if I could live through this. Didn’t know how. I’d tried to put my thoughts down on paper, but words had escaped me. There weren’t any that could give a voice to this pain.

I stroked his arm, memorizing the feel of his skin. We had only moments left. A few heartbeats. I shuddered and a sob bubbled up my throat.

“I don’t want to do this,” I whispered, knowing he wasn’t there to hear me. “You’re my life. You’re everything. You can’t leave me behind.”

I closed my eyes. Heard the swish of the curtain. Footsteps behind me. I felt Mary touch my shoulder. Olivia took my hand.

“Brooke, sweetheart,” Mary said, her voice so soft. Full of the pain we all shared. “It’s time.”

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