I tried not to mumble too much. “I’m here with a friend who’s having a...a procedure, but uh, my fiancé is also in the hospital. Can you check on him and if there’s any change or anything, let me know?”
“Sorry, we aren’t allowed to share a patient’s status. Privacy policy.”
Well at least she understood me, not that it helped.
The panic started to become overwhelming. The last two days had been a nightmare. The only thing that made it semi-bearable was that for most of it, I got to feel Dylan’s warm hand in mine and see his heart beat steadily on the screen.
Now, I couldn’t help but conjure the next nightmare. I could hear the speakers crackle to life like in the waiting room, but instead of calling for help to the OR, it was Code Blue to room 214, where I last saw him. Oh God, after that code blue when he was in the OR, each second had felt like an eternity. My own heart felt like it was going to stop, waiting to find out if he was alive or dead. My heart started to race again as the scene played out in my head. The doctors racing into his room. His friends being kicked out as the doctors surrounded him, shocking him with the paddles. Then Dylan’s eyes opening and him searching the room looking for me, but I wasn’t there.
Fuck, he needed me, and I wasn’t there for him. Just like at the fire.
So stupid, so selfish. I didn’t deserve him.
47
Dylan
The IV in the back of my hand and the oxygen mask on my face were iron chains binding me to this bed. All I’d been doing was waiting for others to save me. First, waiting in the fucking bathroom for help during the fire. Now lying in this fucking hospital bed waiting for my friends to find Juliette or for Juliette to get the fuck over herself and fucking come back to me.
How the fuck did this even happen? Locking doors was supposed to keep us safe. How did the safe choice always end up being the wrong choice? Where are you, Juliette? Was she scared and alone out there? Was she hurt? What if her stitches opened? Did she reinjure her ankle? Fuck, how many times could I fail her?I’m sorry, baby. I’m so fucking sorry.
And what the fuck did Chief Pratt say? After this was over, I was taking it to the top brass. The reckless decision to rush into the house without securing backup rested squarely on myshoulders. I was self-aware enough to know that Gianna’s ghost—the image of what was left of her head, the crushing guilt—drove me to do it. And in some part, Pratt’s dressing down had piled that guilt and grief even higher. He was a loose cannon. But now he’d hurt Juliette. If he made her do something reckless… I’d kill him.
My door creaked open, and for a brief moment, my heart pounded with hope instead of fear. Eli, Max, and my parents rushed in. I swallowed the crushing disappointment that it wasn’t Juliette and tried to smile.
They surrounded me with the solemn awkwardness that always filled a hospital room. My mom sat in the chair that Juliette was in earlier and cautiously grasped my hand. “My sweet boy, are you okay?”
My dad stood behind my mom, his hands on her shoulders. “You look good, son.”
Eli and Max sat uncomfortably on the other side of the bed. “What kind of firefighter tries to fight a fire with his bare hands?” Eli said with a forced lightness.
“Good to see you alive, bro,” Max quipped, earning a glare from Mom. That finally had me smiling for real.
I pulled down the oxygen mask and painfully tried to clear my throat, hoping my voice would come out strong to ease their worries and not exacerbate them.
“Water?” It came out quiet and raspy, but better than before.
My mom eagerly refilled my cup and stood to hold the cup and straw for me. I could drink by myself, but her need to help was palpable.
After a few painful swallows, I gently pushed her hand away. “Hi,” I finally said. “I’m okay.”
Cue the tears from my mom, and my dad too. “I don’t know if I should be proud of you or furious with you. You risked my baby to save another baby.” More tears.
“Sorry. Bet you wish I was a banker.”
“No, honey, that was our plan, not yours, and it was shortsighted of us to think that was the only way to succeed. You never could have been happy sitting at a desk all day. You’ve scared years off my life, but we’re so proud of you. You make the world a safer place.”
I blinked back the sting of tears. “Thanks, Mom,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion.
“Oh, my sweet boy, I hope you’re only saying this now because you’re upset. You have to know that we feel nothing but pride for what you’ve accomplished. I hope you’re proud of yourself too. No matter what happens—” My mom broke off.
My dad rubbed her shoulder and picked up where she left off, leaving me flayed open. “No matter what happens after this, we’re proud of the man that you are, and we have no doubt that you will continue to find ways to succeed, whatever that looks like, because that’s who you are.”
Damn. My already aching chest couldn’t handle this now. Had I been holding onto guilt and doubts for all these years for no reason? Juliette tried to tell me. She had to come back, so I could tell her she was right.
“Yo, where’s your girl?” Max asked, reading my mind.
“Is she okay after what that man said?” My mom asked, wiping her cheeks. “He was so nasty and foul-mouthed. He made me so angry with what he said about you and all the firefighters who worked so hard to save you. I wanted to give him a piece of my mind, but your dad wouldn’t let me.”