A Brand New Ending

Chapter 40

Phoenix



Stumbling forward I go to stop Braeden's lifeless body from crumbling to the ground but my strength cannot match it.

"Braeden!" I ear-piercingly scream out.

We both crash to the ground in a pile. Getting our arms and legs untangled, I center myself on my knees, my face hovering over his.

"Braeden! Can you hear me?" I say, running my hands across his cheek. When I don't hear a response I can feel the tears begging to fall. F*ck! What do I do?

"Dr. Harris," I say out loud to myself as I pull myself from the ground.

Sprinting into the kitchen I find the card with his hospital numbers on it. Dialing the number my fingers are so shaky I hit multiple buttons at once.

"F*ck!" I scream out, the tears flowing down my face.

Trying to calm myself I focus on the buttons, finally getting the right number. Putting it up to my ear I listen, the silence between each ring feels like hours, not milliseconds. Just as I am about to hang up I hear a female voice come over the phone.

"Sarah speaking," her happy voice declares.

"I need Dr. Harris," I squeak out, my voice shaky.

"I think he might be with a patient but let me go check."

"Please hurry, it's an…"

I hear a moan coming from the other room and the phone slips out of my fingers and bounces on the counter top. Pressing my legs forward, I bound back into the living room. Braeden's body remains on the floor but his hands are now on his head, his fingers methodically running through his hair.

"Braeden," I cry out.

His eyes snap open. They are dark as night.

"Are you OK?" I ask, my heart still pounding in my chest.

"Yes," I hear him mutter.

He goes to sit up and I rush over, putting my arm behind his back. When he stands up he seems taller and I feel my body on edge and I instinctively take a step back, my arms hugging each other. He immediately notices my retreat.

"Seraph?" he voice cracks, his hand extended in the space between us. I can't hold back the tears anymore and they fall even harder, my chest heaving.

"I'm so sorry Braeden," I cry out, suddenly feeling that this is my entire fault. Isn't it always?

"Phoenix," he says softly. "This has nothing to do with you."

I look up into his eyes suddenly confused. He remains silent for a moment as he steps closer to me, removing my arms from each other, his fingers grazing where he once had firm a hold of me.

"I promised myself that I would never touch you harshly," he says, the tone of his voice disappointed.

I look down at his hand on my arm. "Braeden, it would take a lot more than that for you to hurt me," I whisper.

He lets out a sigh and leans his forehead on mine, our hot breath mixing in the space between us.

"I guess I have some explaining to do," he whispers.

"Only if you want to."

"I promised I would never lie to you." His eyes now on the ground.

Grabbing his hand in mine I lead him upstairs, wanting to be in the confines of my room for this discussion. We both ascend the stairs, remaining quiet, nothing but the squeak of each step filling the still air. I look at Braeden as we pass the closed doors, hoping that my questions about what I thought I saw will be fulfilled tonight. Opening my door I lead Braeden over to the bed and I climb onto it, never letting our grip falter. He remains standing beside it, his eyes dark and distanced.

"Braeden," I say yanking gently on his arm. "Please sit."

His eyes find me as I pat the bed beside me. I scoot over as Braeden climbs up, both our backs up against my pillows, our hands still interlocked. We sit there in silence for a while and I don't want to push him. He'll talk when he wants to. I stare at the wall, the stillness in the room slowly eating away at me.

"It happened so long ago but why does it seem like no time has passed?" I hear him softly say.

That one sentence crumbles my heart into a million pieces.

"Because trauma blocks you from happiness," I say out loud. "You want to move on but you can't. No matter how hard you fight to forget it, it's always there."

I realize I'm not just talking about Braeden. I feel his hand grip mine tighter.

"What happened, Braeden?" I ask softly.

"There was an accident," he say, his words heavy. "There was so much blood."

My stomach churns at his words but I remain silent.

"I was seven years old when I lost one of the most important people in my life. We were the exact same age but Thomas always seemed older. He was my best friend, my protector."

I squeeze his hand as the picture of the two boys flooded my mind.

"You were a twin," I whisper as a statement rather than a question. He nods.

"He was born six minutes before me," he said with a small laugh. "He always said that I had to do whatever he said because he was the big brother."

A flash of Braeden's whole family at the kitchen table smiling and laughing comes across.

"What happened?" I ask.

"It was an unusually warm night for the city and I insisted Thomas play street hockey with me."