Breathe

Chapter 15

Cian

The hospital was the last place I wanted to be. Last time I'd been here, I had been watching my life fall apart. I never wanted to feel that hopeless again—yet here I was, rushing through the bleach white halls, my footsteps echoing off the polished linoleum. I didn't know what I was running for, either. Lucie hadn't told me anything. Despite my request, she'd ended the phone call, and all I'd gotten after that was an urgent message from my mother telling me to get to the hospital as quickly as possible.

Whatever it was, it had to be serious, and the thought sunk inside of me like a rock.

No.

Vinny was too much of a fighter to leave me again; he wouldn't. Yet, no matter how many times I told myself that, my blood still burned with fear.

When I came into the waiting room, my eyes flitted around for anyone I might recognize—and caught on my mother. She was seated in a chair in the far corner, her shoulders hunched over, her face in her hands. Tangles of silver-gold hair hung down around her wrists; she looked so hopeless, so unlike the woman I was used to seeing everyday, that the cold feeling in the bottom of my stomach seemed to spread. I came towards her, my pace slow, one tentative hand reached out towards her trembling shoulders. "M-Mom?"

She sniffled and wiped her eyes. Mascara smeared across her cheek as she did, but for once, she didn't care. "C.J.," she gasped, closing my hand in her own and succumbing to one more sob. "God, C.J..."

"Mom," I said. I knelt in front of her, my knee touching the cold tiles of the floor. "Mom, what happened? Where's Dad? Is Vinny okay?"

She hesitated, then shook her head, averting her gaze from me. I felt like throwing up. "I haven't...been able to contact your father. And no, I don't think your brother's okay. I...I heard screaming, and when I went up to his bedroom, he was...he was on the floor, and Lucie was holding him..."

I pulled her hands from her face, wiped another tear away, just as one of my own fell. "Lucie," I said, then looked up, searching for her. I saw nothing, however, nothing but the busy strides of doctors and nurses, the dismayed faces of loved ones, senior citizens in hospital gowns rolling by with their IVs. "Lucie. Where is she, Mom? Have you seen her?"

"She's down the hall," Mom managed, "outside Vincent's room."

I nodded, tapping my mother's knuckles, which were damp from tears and ruined makeup. It's like she'd given up, like she couldn't hide behind her money or her reputation anymore. Even though I'd been waiting for her to let her mask fall, here, now, all I felt was pain. It had been a long time since I'd seen her so broken, and a part of me felt bad for leaving her, but she didn't know enough. I had to find Lucie, had to see Vince. I hated being so clueless. "I'll be back. Stay here, alright?"

She nodded, and seemed reluctant to let me go. Nevertheless, her fingers slipped from mine, and I planted a kiss on her forehead before bolting for the halls again.

It was a few feet before I laid eyes on her. Lucie was leaned back against the wall opposite the hospital room's door, seated on the floor, her knees pulled to her chest. The closer I got to her, the more I saw of how distraught she was. Her ebony curls were limp and greasy, tear tracks stained against her walnut-colored skin. Most of all, her eyes were different. They were sunken in, desolate, fractured. I was not looking at Lucie, but merely a shell of her.

When I reached her, she didn't look up, but her flinch let me know she knew I was there. "He's not okay, is he?" my voice was soft.

Lucie didn't move; in fact, all she did was close her eyes. "He hasn't woken up yet. They have to pump his stomach, Cian. Worst of all, they think he's suicidal."