Braydon(72)

Braydon knew what Sawyer was thinking. “It’s not like that,” he told him immediately. He didn’t elaborate; instead, he turned back to his mother. “He didn’t come home last night.”

Sawyer didn’t say anything more after Braydon redirected the conversation, and Braydon appreciated it. He knew his brother didn’t believe him when he told him that Brendon’s sudden spiral had nothing to do with Jessie, but at least he wasn’t going to cause a scene in the middle of the hospital.

Despite what Sawyer assumed, Brendon wasn’t messed up because of Jessie. The family might’ve wanted to believe that she and Brendon had been serious there for a little while, but they knew better.

“What are they doing to him?” Braydon asked.

“He’s got a bump on the head,” his mother said. “They’re monitoring him. The doctor said he’s gonna be fine. At most he’s got a slight concussion.”

“Drinking and driving,” Braydon mumbled absently.

He still didn’t believe it. Brendon didn’t drink that much. Hell, aside from a few beers from time to time, neither of them drank much. And certainly not hard liquor.

“What was he drinking? Do you know?” Jessie asked Sawyer directly.

“From what he told me, he’s been hanging out with his buddy Jack. Mac confirmed the same,” Sawyer answered with a frown. “He’s not lucid enough to talk much when he does come to though, so I’m not really sure what else he might’ve had.”

Whiskey? Holy f*ck. Brendon didn’t even like whiskey.

Braydon’s father stepped out of the small room and closed the curtain behind him, joining them in the hall just outside.

“Can I go in and see him?” Jessie asked, pulling everyone’s attention to her.

“Of course, honey,” Lorrie said, reaching out and squeezing Jessie’s hand.

Jessie looked up at Braydon, and he gave her other hand a reassuring squeeze before he released her.



JESSIE LET THE curtain close behind her as she stepped into the small ten-by-ten space where Brendon was currently sleeping on a hospital bed. There was a machine on the wall making a steady beeping sound, and she took that as a good sign.

He was pale. So very pale.

His eyes were closed; there was a cut on his forehead and a line in his arm that probably went to the bag of fluid hanging from a metal stand near the head of the bed. Aside from the fact that he lacked any sort of color, he looked like he was just sleeping.

Moving around to the side where the machines weren’t taking up most of the space, Jessie reached for his hand as she stared down at him.

“What have you done to yourself, Bren?” she asked, feeling incredibly guilty about his current state.

She knew she shouldn’t, but she couldn’t help it. With everything they’d put one another through these last few months, she felt as though she’d played a small part in pushing him to this point.

“Hey.”

Jessie looked up at Brendon’s face to see that his eyes were open marginally and he was looking back at her.

“Hey,” she replied. “How’re you doin’?”

“I’ve been better,” he mumbled incoherently before licking his lips. “Is there something to drink on that table?”

Jessie managed to translate what he’d said and peeked over her shoulder, where she noticed a glass of water with a straw perched on the bedside stand that acted as a table.

Releasing his hand, she retrieved the cup and then held the straw to his lips. Brendon sipped slowly and then pulled away, signaling that he was finished. Returning the cup to the stand, Jessie turned her attention back to him.

“Where’s Bray?” he asked, seemingly more alert, his words much clearer than before.

“In the hall, talking to your parents and Sawyer.”

“I f*cked up again, didn’t I?” he asked.

Jessie figured it was a rhetorical question, but she spoke anyway. “Want to talk about it?”

“Nothin’ to talk about,” he mumbled, his eyes closing again. He forced them open and stared back at her. “I’m sorry, Jess. So goddamn sorry.”

“What are you apologizing to me for?” she asked softly, trying to keep her voice down so as not to disturb other patients or his parents just on the other side of the curtain.

“I should’ve loved you,” he said, but his eyes closed again.

Jessie’s heart squeezed in her chest. Surely that wasn’t what had sent him spiraling out of control these last few months.

Unable to say anything, Jessie reached for his hand again, holding it gently. His fingers were cold and clammy, but his chest was rising steadily and she found consolation in that.

“Jess?”

“Hmm?” she responded to Brendon.

“He really loves you, you know that? I was a dumbass for trying to get in the way of it.”

Although she understood everything Brendon said, he was still slurring, evidence that the alcohol was still coursing through his bloodstream.

“You’re good for him,” he continued, turning his head to face her and opening his eyes again. “I want you to be happy with him.”

“I am happy,” she told him, not sure what he was expecting to hear.

Jessie’s heart stopped beating in her chest as she stared back at Brendon and noticed a tear dripping down his cheek. “What’s wrong?” she asked in a harsh whisper.