There was wedding photo of me and John on the right and on the left, a rare candid of Tessa and Max. It was taken back when we were dating. I remember taking the picture on Max’s phone, teasing them both about how they’d one day become siblings-in-law as we ate lunch. They pretended to hate each other, but I knew deep down they both had love for one another. In a way, he was like the big brother she never had. Fighting like cats and dogs, but also getting along when need be.
He must have saved the photo of him and Tessa and gotten the one of me and John from my Facebook. This gift gives me all the more reason to go to him.
I pick the locket up from the bed and clutch it in hand, then I tip-toe across the cool floors, making my way to the door. Fortunately it doesn’t creak. It swings open with ease and when I’m halfway out the door, I glance back.
John is still snoring. He won’t wake anytime soon. I peer down the hallway, looking left and then right, making sure the hall is clear.
It’s clear enough so I make my way to the elevator, pressing the button and walking right in when it opens. My room is on the second floor which means he’s on the fifth. Three floors up.
I press button 5, jamming my thumb down on the close button to speed up the process.
The elevator spits me out on floor five and I turn right, following the signs that lead to the ICU. It doesn’t take me long to find a room with the name Grant on it.
This is him.
Seeing his name makes this all the more real. My heart beats just a little bit faster. I take in a ragged breath, pressing my palm to the hard oak, briefly shutting my eyes.
Then I grip the door handle and push the door open slowly. It’s mostly dark inside, minus a dim gold light shining from the middle of the ceiling. It shines right down on Max, and when I see him, my heart skips a beat.
The machine to his right beeps in a steady rhythm. A loud, windy noise moves through the room and I look to the left, noticing the machine with tubes that are connected to his mouth. It’s the only thing keeping him alive.
I stop in front of his bed, choking on a sob as I stare at him. He’s bruised and battered, and his eyes are sealed closed with tape. Even from here, I can tell the life in him is gone.
“Oh, Max,” I cry in a whisper, rubbing his leg. I walk around the bed and lean over him, and despite the pain I feel in my body, it can’t even compare to the pain I feel in my heart. “Oh, I’m so sorry.” I stroke his face, his smooth skin, sobbing again.
I sit on an empty space on the bed, watching his chest rise up and sink down. Breaths in and out, in and out, but they aren’t his.
“Why did this have to happen to you? It was supposed to be me, not you.” I grab his hand and it’s cold. Despite it, I squeeze it and hold it in mine. “I want you to know that I’m sorry about everything. About the past. About the baby. About all of it. I’m so, so sorry. I really love you. I love you so much.”
I don’t know why I expect him to respond. I watch his face, study it for some kind of change, some sort of reaction, but there is nothing. No sound from him. Just forced breaths. A beeping machine.
I drop my forehead to his chest, bringing my hand down to entwine our fingers. I cry, listening to his breaths, taking note of the ticking clock on the wall behind me. I apologize over and over again. Even though this isn’t my fault, it feels like it is. One life for another. It isn’t fair. Life is never fair.
I turn my head, sniffling, eyes tight and wet, and look out of the window, watching wisps of sunlight slowly spill over the horizon. The sky is filled with splashes of pink, orange, and yellow. The clouds are stretched, parting for the sun to make its breakthrough.
“Look, Max,” I breathe. “It’s beautiful. You always loved a good sunrise.” I smile, gripping his hand tighter, a warmness sinking through me. “Remember that Kings of Leon concert we went to? I wanted to go so badly, and you got me tickets.” I huff a laugh. “I was so damn excited the night before that I couldn’t even sleep. It was my first concert. I remember staring out of the window the entire time while you slept. I watched the sun rise and I kept thinking to myself that it was the most beautiful sunrise I’d ever seen.” I pause, stroking his cheek. “But I take that back now because this right here? A sunrise in Paris? Nothing will ever top this.” I laugh softly, grabbing his hand again. It’s warm from mine now. I wish he could squeeze my hand back.