A Shattered Heart (Fractured Lives 2)

Jill's sobs pulled us in like a beacon. We moved forward, lending the limited support we could. Nothing we could do would truly give her the support she needed. The only person capable of that was somewhere beyond the swinging doors.

We watched those doors, waiting for the nurse to return. Willing her to hurry to know what this moment was doing to all of us.

I was on the verge of taking matters into my own hands. I could push through those doors easily enough and find the answers we were so desperately seeking. Before I could do that, the doors opened toward us and Mac was there. Shaky and bruised, but she was there, alive and whole in front of us.

Jill let out a cry that could have pierced a dog's eardrum and rushed toward Mac, enveloping her into a hug that suggested possible strangulation. Mac returned it with her own tears streaming down her face. After a moment she pulled out of Jill's embrace.

"Bentley is in surgery. He stopped breathing on the way to the hospital." Her voice broke as her eyes sought me out. I pulled away from Brian and moved toward her. My feet felt like I was walking under water trying to get to her. They willed me to flee the other way. I knew what Mac was feeling. I'd been in her shoes a lifetime ago. I couldn't bear being there again. It would be so easy to leave, to hide away from the pain, to avoid the hurt. I'd done it before. I could do it again. This was the very reason why I'd hidden from the world for so long. I'd promised my heart I would never compromise it again.

But I didn't leave this time. Instead, I gathered my friend into my arms and gave her the only thing I could—me. She wept against me, worried and scared. My own tears joined hers as I kept her wrapped in my embrace. How long we stood there I didn't know, but I would have stood there a lifetime if need be.

Eventually our group was hustled to another room to wait to hear from the surgeon. Bentley's own family was there, and we understood the fear they felt. As the hours ticked by, our group slowly dispersed until only Mac, Jill, Zach, and I remained. Mac had tried to tell Zach he could go home, but he stoically sat by her side, holding her hand. My heart wept at the sight. Zach and I knew how Mac felt, and we were terrified for her as we waited for the outcome.

Bentley's father paced the room while his mom sat on Mac's other side. Every so often she and Jill would talk, but most times the room was cloaked in silence. Even Bentley's sister was silent in the far corner of the room. She had earphones in her ears and the hood of her hoodie drawn up over her head, but every so often I watched her hand sneak up to swipe away a tear.

It felt weird to be on the other side of an accident. My mind conjured up other images. Images I'd never seen but I could easily believe were true. A larger group than this in a similar room waiting to hear the fate of six high school graduates. I could picture Dad pacing much like Bentley's father was while Mom sat sandwiched between Jill and Patricia. Did Patricia, Trina, and Gloria sit by Mom offering their support after they'd learned of their losses, or did they leave soaked in their own grief? I wondered who held Jill's hand when doctors told her that Mac's leg had been crushed into nothing or who stood by Gloria when doctors told her Zach was paralyzed and would spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair. I could now see the fatal flaw in our group. We'd been so closely knit that when tragedy struck it hit all of us.

I glanced over at Zach, wondering if he was struggling as much as me. His face was a mask, unreadable and hard to decipher. I envied his ability to hide his feelings, wishing I had that power at my disposal.

Brian showed back up with Mac's father, Chris, before the sun went down. They were both carrying trays of coffee and bottled water. They offered them to Bentley's family, who took them gratefully. Neither of his parents took a sip. It was as if they'd taken the beverages so they'd have something to do with their hands.

Mac refused a coffee, standing up instead. She looked at me for a moment before heading toward the door. I stood and followed without hesitation. Mac waited for me right outside the door, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"I don't want him to die, Kat," she cried. "Do you think I'm selfish? You didn't want to lose Dan and he died. Zach loved Tracey and he lost her, and yet all I can think about is how unfair it will be if Bentley dies."

"It will be unfair," I said fervently. "Dan's death was unfair and so was Tracey's, but that doesn't mean you should also suffer. I don't want him to die either, Mac. I feel like my heart will finally implode once and for all if he dies, and he doesn't even belong to me. You don't deserve this."

Mac sniffled, walking slowly down the hall. "I thought you'd hate me if you knew what I'd been thinking the last few hours. I felt like the most selfish person in the world."

"You know what I was thinking?" I asked.

She looked at me but continued walking.

"All I can think about is how awful it must have been for our parents that night. How hopeless they all must have felt. All of them had a stake in that accident, which meant they couldn't lean on each other for comfort. It's the one fatal flaw of our group."

She nodded, drawing her lower lip in between her teeth. "What's the alternative? Divide our group?"

I shook my head. "Is it wrong that I couldn't imagine it any other way? I don't know what I would have done without all

of you growing up. My best memories are tied so tightly around the past we all shared. I feel like we were the luckiest kids ever. We got to go on vacations, spend holidays and birthdays together. All of you knew me better than I knew myself. Despite all the pain the last two years, I wouldn't change a thing."

"Besides getting into the SUV that night," she added.

"True. I'd definitely redo that."

"I used to torment myself with the what-if game. What if I wouldn't have insisted we spend grad night driving all over the place? What if I wouldn't have paused getting into the car that night?" she mused.

We turned when the hall ended and headed back the way we'd come. Our footsteps faltered when we spotted a doctor heading into the waiting room. Mac's hand gripped mine. I laced my fingers through hers letting her hang on as tight as she needed. Whatever happened from this moment on I would be there for her. I would not leave her again.

"He lost a substantial amount of blood. We were able to repair some of the internal damage, but we weren't able to save his spleen," we heard the doctor say as we pushed into the waiting room. "It's going to take some time for him to recover, but I don't see why he won't make a complete recovery. He'll spend the evening in ICU, and we'll re-evaluate his condition in the morning during rounds," he added.

"He's going to be okay?" Mac choked.

I slid my arm around her shoulders, holding her up.

Bentley's doctor turned toward us. "He's going to be okay," he said, smiling at her.

"Thank you, Doctor," Bentley's dad said, shaking his hand while Bentley's mom silently wept in her chair. I glanced over at Bentley's sister and saw she'd lowered her hood, revealing a face that was deathly pale and glistening with tears. My eyes moved to Zach, who had dropped his head into his hands with relief. This is what the other side looked like.