“ARE YOU OKAY?” I ask him. He’s sitting on the floor with his back against the wall outside of the hospital. The hand that’s not all bandaged up is cradling his head. I’m waiting on my mom to come and collect me, my things are packed up in my room and she’s due back in the next twenty minutes. I told her I wasn’t flying back home until Ethan was released, so she’s gone to extend her hotel booking.
“Truthfully?”
“Yeah, truthfully.” I smile.
“No.”
The dejected tone of his voice pierces like a needle straight through my heart. I almost wince. I want to take away the pain that I can see he’s in, but I have no idea how. I slide down against the wall positioning myself next to him and then place my arm over his shoulders, pulling him into my side as best I can without hurting his injuries. He’s so much bigger than I am, I’m stretched across him and the angle is pulling at my stitches but I don’t care. I need to hug him about as much as he looks like he needs to be hugged.
“What happened?” I’m pretty sure it will have something to do with his dad. Moira had said she was going to speak to him about Frank; I should have gone to his room earlier to check on him, not avoid him like I have been. I was so consumed with thinking I might let something slip out about Moira, it didn’t occur to me that he might need me. The realization leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. I’m beyond disappointed in myself. His head tilts so that he can look at me; his sad blue eyes are searching mine. He’s looking so intently at me, almost like he’s studying me and his gaze is penetrating. I feel a gleam of hope spark in the pit of my stomach while for a brief moment I’m sure he remembers who I am, remembers us. But then he blinks and looks away and I feel the glimmer of faith I’d pinned on that one tiny look burst like a bubble and dissolve to nothing.
“My dad blames me.”
I bolt upright and drop my arm from his shoulders, pushing him away so I can see his face clearly. I can feel my eyebrows bunch together and my glasses slip a little on the bridge of my nose.
“What? Of course he doesn’t. Why would you even think that?” I ask pushing my glasses into place as his lip quirks slightly and he lets out a bemused laugh.
“Trust me, Blair, he blames me. I went to his room earlier. Mom told me about his condition. I’d barely gotten two feet inside the door before he was shouting for me to get out.”
My mouth must have fallen open because he flashes me a quick smile and places his finger under my chin and pushes my jaw back up. In any other circumstance this would embarrass me, but I’m too stunned and confused to feel anything other than amazement at the moment.
“I need you to tell me something, okay?”
I can feel the blood drain from my face as he looks at me waiting for me to answer. Goosebumps erupt under my shirt and my stomach drops as I swallow the knot in my throat.
“Okay, what?”
“The accident.” He shifts his position and is sitting directly in front of me now. His legs flank my own as I pull mine up to my chest and hug them tightly. “Was it my fault—did I cause it?”
My skin prickles and a cold shiver shoots like a bolt of lightning down my spine. “What do you mean? Of course it’s not your fault,” I rush to answer, almost unbelieving that he could even entertain such a thought. He exhales loudly as a look of relief washes over his features.
“Ethan, you did not cause that accident! There were a number of things that happened that contributed to the outcome, but it wasn’t your fault; you need to believe that, okay? You’re not to blame.”
He looks at me as though he’s about to ask what I mean, but I move onto my knees and envelope him in a tight embrace. I push my face into the crook of his neck; the smell of him invades me. He’s like my own personal tranquilizer, soothing me as I mumble into his shoulder that it’s not his fault. I know he hears me when his arms snake around my waist and pull me in tighter.
“You’d tell me if it was though, right? You wouldn’t lie to me?”
I assume that he can feel my anxiety as it begins to build, because he holds onto my shoulders and moves me away from him, fixing me with a stare.
“I can trust you to tell me the truth…right?”
I gather my wits and clench my fists as I try and sit a little taller. “You can trust me,” I answer. Why does this feel like a lie? I hate Moira right now.
“Good,” he whispers drawing me back into him and then standing us both up.
“So, girlfriend.” He smiles and nudges my arm. I can’t help but smile back.
“So, boyfriend,” I reply, arching my brow as I wait for him to carry on.
“Shit, that sounds weird! Want to go and get a crappy hospital coffee with me before your mom collects you? It can be our official second first date?”