I can’t help but trace my fingers over the various tubes and wires that connected him to the machines, a tangible reminder of just how fragile life can be. I couldn’t stop picturing the accident on the chairlift over and over in my mind, small details changing each time. Was he on the seat with anybody else? Did they try to stop him from falling? Or was he alone, with no chance of getting helped?
I turned my attention to Archer, his face peaceful in slumber. The dim light from the bedside lamp cast long shadows across his face. As I studied his features, I couldn’t help but be reminded of the nights we spent together, gliding across the ice, our skates slicing through the frozen surface like a brush on canvas. The vibrant energy that always radiated from him seemed diminished, replaced by a sense of uncertainty that hung heavily in the air.
The tousled brown hair that I loved running my fingers through was now matted against his forehead, evidence of the physical toll that his fall had taken. I couldn’t help but notice the bandages that covered his legs, hiding the wounds that would surely become a battle scar of this tragic accident.
The accident had taken away so much from him, from all of us. The doctors had said it was a miracle he survived, but what would life be like for Archer now? Would he ever be able to skate again? The thought weighed on my heart, threatening to suffocate me.
As I sat there, lost in my thoughts, a sudden wave of guilt washed over me. Guilt for being here unscathed while Archer lay motionless before me. Guilt for not being there with him, as if I was somehow supposed to be there every moment of every day. Guilt for feeling the weight of my own worries when Adelynn’s anguish was far greater than my own.
“I need a break,” Adelynn mumbled after a while. She pushed herself up from the chair. “I’m going to find Mom and Avianna.”
I nodded silently. One by one, everyone had been taking their leave from the room, unable to bear the crushing weight of sitting here.
“I’ll call you if anything changes,” I said. Adelynn smiled gratefully and stepped out.
Alone in the hushed room, my gaze returned to Archer. His chest rose and fell in an even rhythm, a beacon of hope amidst the chaos that had consumed our lives. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his face, etching every detail into the depths of my memory.
His deep brown eyes, usually sparkling with mischievousness and determination, were closed now, shielded from the world. Those eyes that had met mine across the ice countless times, filled with unspoken understanding and shared dreams. How I longed for them to flicker open and meet mine once more, to see the fire reignite within them.
My trembling fingers reached out, brushing against his soft hair, its familiar texture providing a temporary respite from the anguish that threatened to consume me. I ran my hands over Archer’s head, savoring each strand as if they held the essence of our shared past. The sensations overwhelmed me, and hot tears streamed down my cheeks unchecked.
My fingertips lingered on the soft strands, tracing the path of our memories together. I remembered the first time he took me skating, his hand interlaced with mine as we twirled and spun in perfect harmony.
The sight of him now, so vulnerable and motionless, shattered my heart into a thousand pieces. The weight of my emotions became unbearable, and tears welled up in my eyes like an unstoppable flood. I tried to swallow the sob that threatened to escape my lips but found myself unable to hold back any longer.
I buried my face in my hands, the sound of my own anguish echoing through the room. The quiet emptiness that had enveloped us was shattered by my raw sobs, tearing through the sterile air like a desperate cry for help. I didn’t care if anyone heard me. All that mattered was the pain coursing through every fiber of my being, a pain so intense it threatened to consume me whole.
As I wept, all the memories of Archer flooded my mind—the laughter, the shared dreams, and the unspoken connection we had forged on the ice. How could we go back to that? Would he ever be able to skate again? The thought alone was unbearable.
Minutes turned into hours as I sat there, lost in a seemingly bottomless abyss of despair. The beeping machines became distant echoes, drowned out by the deafening silence that hung heavy in the room.
Suddenly, as if in response to my cries, a faint twitch coursed through Archer’s hand. My breath hitched in my throat, a glimmer of hope stirring within me. I wiped away the tears from my eyes and held my breath, afraid to believe what my senses were telling me.
His fingers trembled, ever so slightly, as if struggling to break free from their prison of stillness. My heart leaped in my chest, pounding with a renewed vigor. The room seemed to hold its breath, suspended in anticipation of what was to come.
With trembling hands, I reached out and clasped his quivering fingers gently, willing him to awaken from the shadows that had claimed him for far too long. There, in the silence of that sterile room, I poured every ounce of love and longing into that simple touch, hoping against hope that it would be enough to bring him back to me.
And then it happened.
Archer’s hand twitched again, more pronounced this time, and his eyes fluttered open. Confusion clouded his gaze as he stared up at me. I couldn’t help but smile through my tears, overwhelmed with relief and joy at seeing his eyes open again.
His voice was barely audible as he mumbled my name.
“I’m here, Archer,” I whispered, placing a gentle hand on his forehead. “Do you need anything? Are you in pain?”
“You’re here,” he replied, his words slurred with exhaustion.
“Of course I am,” I reassured him, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face.
“Bri?” His voice was barely a whisper now.
“Yes, Archer?”
“I love you.”
I leaned in to kiss his forehead, squeezing my eyes shut so he didn’t see the tears welling up in them. When I finally opened them again, he was still staring up at me, the smallest smile gracing his lips.
“Go to sleep, Archer. I’ll be here.”