Bring Me Back

Tears pool in her eyes. “I don’t know.”

I lean my head back and look up at the ceiling. “Fuck.”

She laughs softly. “Yeah, fuck,” she echoes.

“This sucks.”

She takes my hands in both of hers and I lower my head to look at her. “Don’t give up hope,” she tells me. “Whatever you do, don’t stop hoping. We don’t know anything yet.”

I nod. “I won’t,” I promise her.

She presses her lips together. “I have to get back to work. I snuck away to see you.”

“I understand. Thanks, Laura.”

She gives me one last sad smile and leaves me alone in the too-bright waiting room.

God, I hate everything about this room. The uncomfortable plastic chairs with their stupid wood arms. The pathetic coffee table covered in a blanket of magazines pretending to be cheerful and uplifting. I especially hate the w

all of windows that reflects all the halogen lights and the people inside.

Sometime later, Ben’s mom comes running into the waiting room.

She sees me and slows to a walk. “Do you know anything?” she asks, sitting down on the chair beside me.

I shake my head. “No. He must still be in surgery.”

“That’s a good thing, right?” she asks, sounding hopeful.

“I don’t know.” I shrug. I hate feeling this helpless. I know nothing, and it’s killing me.

Loraine tightens her hands around her purse strap where it rests in her lap. “I guess we wait and see then.”

“I guess so.”

I rub my hands up and down my face.

Remain hopeful, Blaire. Do not give up hope. He’s going to be okay. You’ll see. They’re going to walk out of those double doors any minute and tell you that he’s fine. You have to hope. Just believe.

And then there is a doctor walking through the doors. I sit up straight.

I know. Somehow, I already know.

“Mr. Carter’s family?”

“Over here,” I call and begin to stand.

He waves his hand for me to sit down.

No.

He makes his way toward us, head downcast staring at his clipboard.

No.

“Are you Mr. Carter’s mom and …?”

“Fiancé,” I say. My voice sounds soft. Distant. Like I’m speaking through a tunnel. There’s a roar in my ears, like my mind is trying to drown out the words I know are coming.