Page 3 of What We Brave
I drop my head against the steering wheel, the horn blaring for a split second. I grip my hair with both hands, pulling until it burns. The silence from the phone is a physical weight, crushing my chest. It's Jared all over again. The waiting. The not knowing. The absolute, terrifying void where my brother is supposed to be.
He's gone. He's really fucking gone, and he's not answering me.
The panic makes me want to crawl out of my skin. I'm bleeding out in the front seat of my truck, and I have no anchor. No Blake. No Laine. Just me and the ghosts.
I need a distraction. I need to do something. If I can just see her, if I can just get Laine to look at me, the world will stop spinning.
Wednesday night I take a night shift and I bring in a minor car accident—nothing serious, just a fender-bender with possible whiplash. It's not her patient, but I see her across the ER. She's helping an elderly man with his oxygen mask, her movements calm and efficient. Professional.
She used to light up when she saw me. Now she won't even look in my direction.
I linger after dropping off my patient, pretending to need supplies from the ambulance. Really, I'm hoping she'll come over. Hoping she'll say something, anything.
"Reid." Her voice behind me makes me spin around too fast. For a second, hope flares in my chest. God, I've missed the sound of her voice. Missed everything about her. She has to listen. I have to tell her how fucked this all was, how confused I am. And especially how sorry.
"Laine. God, I've been trying to?—"
"Stop." She holds up a hand. "Stop sending flowers. Stop... this. Whatever this is."
I want to tug her into the supply room, hold her hands, and just fix all of this. But even I know that's crossing a line. "I just want to talk. Five minutes. Please."
"No." She looks tired. Thinner than she was a few weeks ago. "I can't do this at work. I can't do this anywhere. I need you to stop."
"But if you'd just let me explain?—"
"There's nothing to explain. I was there, Reid. I lived it."
She walks away before I can respond, leaving me standing by my ambulance like an idiot.
That wave of darkness I've been battling tries to wash over me, but I battle it back. This is going to work. It has to. Blake isn't answering, so she's all I have left. I just haven't found the right way to approach her yet.
Week Four
I start bringingher favorite coffee. Not to give her—I'm not that delusional yet—but just to have it ready in case the opportunity arises. In case she changes her mind and wants to talk.
The coffee gets cold every time.
I run into Dr. Martinez in the hallway on Thursday. We've worked together for years, he even joined my crew for golf once. He spent a lot of time sighing and shaking his head. But here, he's always been friendly.
"Reid." His tone is cooler than usual. "How's it going?"
"Good. Fine. Listen, if you see Laine?—"
"I'm going to stop you right there." His mouth hardens into a flat line. "Whatever's going on between you two, leave it outside the hospital. This is her workplace. She shouldn't have to worry about personal stuff while she's trying to do her job."
Heat floods my face. "I'm not—it's not like that. I just want to talk to her."
"Then call her like a normal person. Don't lurk around her workplace hoping to corner her."
Lurk. The word hits me like a slap. Is that what I'm doing? Lurking?
No. I'm just... trying. I'm fighting for us. That's what you do when you love someone, right? You don't give up.
Week Five
I seeher car in the grocery store parking lot on Sunday. My day off. I wasn't following her—I really did need groceries—but there's her Honda Civic, and before I can second guess it, I'm waiting by her car like some kind of creep, scrolling news reports like a maniac.
Another fucking IED attack. This is it. I'm going to get a call that he's dead. Then I'll be completely alone.
