Only Two Can End Up Happy [ book 2 ]

twenty

Olivia~

I must have fallen back asleep, because the next thing I know, the sun is blinding me through the drapes. Boston is long gone, the sheets still holding the shape of his body in them.

I slowly slip out of his bed, throwing on one of his shirts. It almost feels like a dress on me.

As I step into the kitchen, there's a plate of food sitting out on the counter; a small piece of paper next to it. At the hospital with Greyson and Juliette. Be back soon. the paper reads, my heart drops. My mind can only imagine the worst.

My heart pounds against my chest, and I change my
clothes. I'm going to see what's going on. I need to know if everyone, and everything, is okay.

~~~~~

The sharp smell of the hospital brings back memories I wish I didn't have. I haven't been in one since my dad died. It hurts to think about. I feel the hurt for a moment, before pushing it down.

This is not about me.

I look around the lobby for one of the brown headed, blue eyed boys. Neither of them are in sight. I grow more and more anxious.

"Miss," A young woman asks me. It takes me much longer than it should for me to realize that it's the receptionist. "Are you looking for someone?"

"Uh, yeah actually. Last name should be Silas." I tell her. She nods her head, before typing something into her computer.

"Alright, take a seat for a moment. I'll go and check on them," The woman says.

Only moments later, does Boston appear from the solid wooden doors. He finds me quick, walking over to me, and just wrapping his arms around me. I hold him until he's ready to let go. He doesn't say anything; I'm scared for the worst.

"It's Juliette," He finally says. My heart sinks even deeper. "She uh, shes," We stop outside of a door, I assume its Juliette's.

"She got into a car accident, last night," He confesses, his voice breaking. I don't know what else to do besides hug him.

He slowly opens the door. Greyson looks miserable, holding the hand of his little sister. He leans his head against the white of the bed, refusing to look up. I sit next to him, running a hand across his back.

Boston doesn't move, looking at his sister.

She lays on her back, hooked to all sorts of monitors and IVs. I know how badly this hurts Boston.

Eight years ago, this was his mother.

"Doc says she going to be alright," Greyson mutters, finally lifting his head. He's so tired. "I don't know what I would do if she wasn't." He confesses, his sadness turning into a special type of anger.

"Its my fault," Greyson softly says. "I gave in. I let her go. I wouldn't forgive myself if this had been any worse." I'm unaware of who he's talking to.

"Accidents happen Greyson," Boston tells him. "Sometimes to the people we love. I promise you, she won't blame this on you, of all people,"

"Juliette is a lucky kid Greyson. She's lucky because she has you." I claim.

"And she's going to be just fine. She's in the best hands." Boston adds.

Greyson nods his head, before resting it back on the bed. Boston holds me tight, and never lets go.