CLANDESTINE | HS |

THIRTY FIVE

Logan

"Hey, it's me. Wake up."

A hand shakes my shoulder at the same time that the vinyl chair in front of me comes into view, an ugly shade of crimson I've become familiar with.

"What happened? Is everything okay?" Sitting up, my phone flies into the floor as Warren stands next to me. "I'm up. Is mom okay?"

"It's okay, it's okay." Sitting down next to me, he looks over and the exhaustion is written clear as day on his face. "There aren't any changes."

God, I wish there were.

Tears blur my vision as I nod, standing up and walking across the small lobby and into the bathroom. Bracing my hands on either side of the sink, I take a minute to splash cold water on my face and take a deep breath.

For the last two weeks I've done nothing but feel my heart crumble inside of my chest.

From my mom being in the intensive care unit.

From the way it felt to walk away from the only other person I've truly ever loved.

Everything hurts.

God, everything just fucking hurts.

It felt like no matter where I looked, every single fucking thing was falling apart.

Watching someone that you love more than anything lay in a hospital bed and barely even be able to open their eyes or respond to anything is devastating.

Devastating.

There still weren't any answers to what could get her out of the state that she was in— nothing that would just magically heal her.

Guilt burrowed into my bones at the amount of time that I'd spent with Harry when I could have been with her. All of the hours and the days that I'd spent inside of his world, ones that felt like they should have belonged to the woman who gave everything for me.

The guilt felt like it ate me alive.

When I left that day, watching him in the rearview mirror, it felt like I only made it a couple of miles before I pulled over and threw up on the side of the road.

Just thinking about the way those deep emerald eyes looked at me when my hands pushed against his chest, the pain laced in the gaze that had found me and my soul so many times ripped me apart.

My chest ached with how much I loved him. The feeling so deep, so fucking intense that it was almost impossible to push him to the back of my mind and focus on being present to sit with my mom.

Day after day, I sat and waited.

Waited for her to magically be cured.

Waited for the doctors to say that she was better.

There was only one person allowed to be in the room at a time and Warren and I took shifts, holding her hand and just hoping and hoping and fucking hoping for a change.

I'd barely even been home other than to take a quick shower and switch up the few pieces of clothing I kept in a backpack with me. Nothing could keep me away from being as close to my mom as possible.

Taking one last deep breath, I close my eyes before walking out of the bathroom and see Warren sitting with my bag at his feet. A weak smile pulls at the very corner of his lips but it doesn't reach his tired eyes.

Exhaustion wearing him down just like it has been doing to me.

"Hey bud." Reaching out, he pulls me into a hug. "How are you holding up out here?"