Chapter 44

Macklin's pov

The second they let me into her room, the air in my lungs thinned.

I don't know what I expected—maybe something less overwhelming, something less terrifying but nothing could've prepared me for the sight of Lex lying there, completely still. Her body looked so small under the hospital blankets, tangled in wires and drips and machines that beeped softly in the background. Her face was dotted with bruises, a nasty gash running along her temple, bandaged neatly but still so visible. There were cuts on her arms and shoulder, probably from shattered glass. Her leg was propped up, thick in a cast, elevated on a cushion.

And yet—she was still the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen.

The kind of beauty that didn't need to speak to be known. It was just there, even in stillness, even in pain. I sat in the chair beside her bed, trying not to break in half. I reached for her hand, carefully sliding my fingers between hers, afraid I might hurt her somehow. Her hand felt cold. Too cold.

Will and Gabi stood behind me for a while, their presence quiet but grounding. Eventually, the nurse stepped in and gently reminded us that only one guest was allowed overnight. Gabi hesitated, her eyes red-rimmed from crying, but I gave her a small nod.

"I got her," I said softly. "I won't leave."

Will squeezed my shoulder, and Gabi leaned down to kiss Lex's forehead. "We'll be back in the morning," she whispered. "You hang in there, okay?"

When they left, the silence returned. The room was dimly lit by the soft blue glow of the machines monitoring Lex's vitals. I didn't realize until that moment how exhausted I was. My back ached, my chest was tight, and I hadn't eaten in... I don't even know how long. But none of that mattered. I couldn't take my eyes off her.

At some point during the night, her parents arranged for Lex to be moved to a private room. It was quieter here. There was a small couch in the corner with a thin blanket and a pillow. I crashed there sometime after 2 a.m., refusing to change out of the hoodie I'd been wearing all day, refusing to close my eyes for too long. I needed to be able to wake up in an instant, just in case she moved, just in case something changed.

Every time I heard footsteps, my heart jumped. I'd jolt upright, rushing to her side, only to realize it was a nurse passing by or a machine making a sound behind her. I must've gotten maybe two hours of sleep total, the rest filled with half-dreams and too many thoughts.

Then, at exactly 8:03 a.m., a soft sob cut through the room.

I sat up instantly, blinking the sleep away. Standing at the doorway was Lex's mom, her hand over her mouth, eyes welling up with tears. Her dad stood beside her, holding her gently at the waist, his face pale and drawn. Behind them, I saw Will's parents, their expressions equally strained but offering small, kind smiles when they saw me.

I stood up quickly, trying to compose myself. I ran a hand through my hair and wiped at my eyes, even though I knew they were still red. Mr. Carter stepped forward and offered me a firm handshake. I took it, trying not to crumble all over again.

"Hello, sir," I said, clearing my throat. "I'm glad you all got here safely. I hope it's okay that I stayed overnight. I just—I needed to make sure she was okay."

Mrs. Carter didn't even hesitate. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me, pulling me into a shaky hug. "Thank you for being here," she whispered, voice thick with emotion. "Thank you for not letting her be alone."

I nodded, my throat too tight to respond.

Will's parents offered gentle greetings, their faces filled with a kind of quiet heartbreak. I'd met them briefly during Will and my debut NHL game—back when life felt bright and exciting and full of possibilities. Now, the weight of the hospital walls felt like it was pressing down on all of us.

Lex's parents moved to her bedside, and her mom immediately broke down again, whispering to her daughter in a tone that made my chest cave in. I stepped back, giving them space, but I didn't want to leave the room. I stayed standing in the corner, hands in my pockets, watching every little breath Lex took. Counting them like they were the only thing holding me together.

Mr. Carter turned to me after a few minutes. "Are you going to training today?"

I shook my head. "Coach gave me the week off. He understood... everything. Will too."

He nodded solemnly. "You've done more than enough, Macklin. We can watch over her now. You should get some rest. Maybe go home, wash up, eat something."

I hesitated. "I don't want to leave her."

"I know," he said gently. "But we're here now. We missed her so much. We just want to be with her a while."

I looked back at Lex, her face unmoving, and then back at him. "Okay," I said quietly. "Would it be alright if I come back in a couple hours? I can bring food, too. Breakfast for you all?"

Mrs. Carter turned to me and shook her head. "You don't have to do that."

"It's the least I can do," I insisted. "Please."

She gave a grateful smile, eyes still damp. "Alright. Thank you, sweetheart."

I left the hospital in a daze, walking to my car like I wasn't even aware of the ground under my feet. The sun was rising in full by now, bright and beautiful and completely different to what was happening inside that hospital room.

I went home and took the fastest shower of my life. I couldn't even let myself linger in there. Too many thoughts. Too many what-ifs. I packed a duffel bag with clothes, deodorant, toothpaste, a hoodie that was mine but she stole often— I found it on the couch and it still smelled like her, and some granola bars I found in the pantry. I threw on jeans and a long-sleeve and headed back out the door, slinging the bag over my shoulder.

I stopped at Safeway first and picked up a bouquet of white lilies. Lex once told me they were elegant, said they looked like calmness in flower form. I figured she could use a little of that right now.

Next door, I grabbed breakfast to go from Bill's Café. I didn't even really read the menu. Just ordered three of the same thing—eggs, pancakes, fruit, bacon. Something warm. Something comforting. I got coffee too, even though I didn't need any more caffeine buzzing in my veins.

I got back to the hospital in record time and knocked softly before letting myself into Lex's room. Her parents looked up, and I handed the food over, setting it on the little tray table near the window.

"You really didn't have to," her dad said again.

"I wanted to," I replied. "It's nothing, really."

Her mom reached out and touched my arm. "Thank you, Macklin. You've been... you've been a rock through all of this. I don't know how she got so lucky."

My throat closed up again, but I managed a weak smile. "I'm the lucky one."

I settled back onto the couch after checking on Lex, brushing her hair back gently and placing the flowers in the little vase beside her bed. Her mom watched me do it, tears brimming again, and I could tell she was trying to hold herself together for her daughter.

The rest of the morning passed in a slow, weighted silence. We didn't speak much—just sat with her. Watched her chest rise and fall. Prayed silently that she'd open her eyes.

And I knew—I would be here for as long as it took.

———

The sterile scent of a hospital and the rhythmic beeping of monitors have become the backdrop of my existence. It's been twelve days since the accident, twelve days since Lex was placed in a coma. Each day blurs into the next, a cycle of hope and despair:

My day begins in the dim hours before dawn. The first light filters through the drawn blinds, casting a soft glow on Lex's serene yet bruised face. I rise from the narrow couch beside her bed, my body protesting after another night of restless sleep. I take a moment to watch her, searching for any sign of awakening. Her chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm.

"Good morning, Lexi," I whisper, my voice thick with emotion. "Another day. Spending the day with my favorite person."

After a quick visit to the hospital's restroom to splash cold water on my face, I make my way to the cafeteria. The staff now recognize me, their sympathetic glances both comforting and disheartening. I grab a cup of black coffee and a muffin, the bitter taste grounding me in the present. Returning to Lex's room, I settle into the chair beside her bed, sipping the lukewarm coffee as I hold her hand, drawing strength from her even in her unconscious state.

By 7:00 AM, the familiar sound of the door opening signals the arrival of Lex's parents, Mr. and Mrs. Carter. They've been staying at Will's house. Mrs. Carter's eyes are typically red-rimmed, evidence of sleepless nights and endless tears. Mr. Carter maintains a stoic facade, but the deep lines on his face betray his distraught worry for his daughter.

"Good morning, Macklin," Mrs. Carter greets softly, placing a gentle hand on my arm.

"Morning," I reply, offering a faint smile. "Any news from Dr. Reynolds?"

"Not yet," Mr. Carter interjects, his voice gruff. "He mentioned he'd stop by later today."

We settle into the room, each finding our place in this shared room. Mrs. Carter sits beside Lex, holding her hand and whispering sweet words. Mr. Carter stands by the window, staring out but seeing nothing—deep in thought. I position myself at the couch watching and waiting.

The hours stretch on, marked only by the periodic checks from the nursing staff. Conversations are sparse, each of us lost in our thoughts. Occasionally, Mrs. Carter shares stories from Lex's childhood, her voice a soothing balm to our frayed nerves.

"Did you know," she begins, a faint smile playing on her lips, "when Lex was five, she insisted on wearing her princess tiara everywhere? Even to bed."

I chuckle softly, picturing a young Lex with her determined spirit. "That sounds like her."

These snippets of memories serve as reminders of Lex's passion and determination which encouraged our hope for her recovery.

Around noon, the door opens to reveal Will, carrying a bag of sandwiches and drinks.

"Hey," he says, offering the bag. "Thought you all might be hungry."

"Thank you, Will," Mrs. Carter responds, managing a small smile.

We eat in near silence, the occasional murmur of appreciation breaking the quiet. After lunch, Will takes his place beside Lex, recounting stories from their shared past, his voice thick with emotion.

"Remember when we built that treehouse, Lex? You insisted on painting it pink. I complained, but you got your way, as always."

His chuckle fades into a sigh. "You've always been stubborn. So, keep fighting, okay?"——

As the sun begins its descent, casting a warm glow through the hospital windows, Gabi arrives, her presence a balm to our weary souls. She brings a bouquet of baby's breath, placing them in the vase by Lex's bedside.

"Hey, Lex," she says, her voice trembling. "Brought you some flowers. Your favorite."

She sits beside Will, their hands entwined, and her head resting on his shoulders. The room fills with soft conversations, shared memories, and the occasional laughter, a small attempt to pierce the heavy atmosphere.——As visiting hours draw to a close, Dr. Reynolds enters the room, his expression neutral yet compassionate. We all straighten, hanging onto the hope that he brings good news.

"Good evening," he begins, nodding to each of us. "I wanted to provide an update on Lex's condition."

We brace ourselves.

"Lex remains stable, which is a positive sign," he continues. "However, given the extent of her head trauma and the cardiac arrest during surgery, we placed her in a medically induced coma to allow her brain to heal."

He pauses, ensuring we absorb the information.

"We're starting to see subtle responses but it's still too early to make definitive predictions. If she doesn't wake in the next few days, we'll need to discuss long-term outcomes, including possible neurological impairment. That said, we've seen patients in similar conditions make full recoveries. We just need to give her body and brain the time they need."

Mrs. Carter's grip on her husbands arm tightens at the words being said.

"I know this is incredibly hard," Dr. Reynolds continues, "but we haven't lost hope. Not yet."

We exchange glances, a silent agreement passing between us. We're not giving up on Lex.

As the Carters, Will, and Gabi prepare to leave, Mrs. Carter turns to me.

"Macklin, you should go home, get some rest."

I shake my head. "I can't. I need to be here when she wakes up."

She offers a sad smile. "Lex would want you to take care of yourself."

"I know," I whisper, "but I can't leave her."

They depart, leaving me alone with Lex. The nurses perform their routine checks, offering polite nods before leaving us in solitude. I settle into the couch, the cushions molded to my form after so many nights.

Sleep claims me, and I find myself in a familiar coffee shop.

I'm sitting at a small table, just staring down at a cup of coffee that's gone cold. There's no noise, no sense of urgency in the air. I don't even know how long I've been here, just that I can't stop thinking of her.

Then, the door creaks open.

I don't even need to look up to know who it is. I feel her presence before I see her. My pulse kicks up as I inhale, the air in the room suddenly feeling too thick. The warmth I've been holding onto feels fragile, like it could slip away any moment.

"Lex," I breathe, stunned.

I can't even fully believe it's her, but there she is—standing in the doorway. Her blonde hair is messy, swaying as she steps inside. She's wearing that same hoodie I used to say was mine until she liked it so much it was worn more often by her than if I were to have it. The one hoodie that smells like her.

She looks... real. Like nothing has ever happened.

Her eyes are still wide and bright and when she looks at me, a teasing smile pulls at her lips, a smile I haven't seen in far too long.

"I..." I stammer, frozen. "I missed you."

She tilts her head playfully, the way she always does when she's about to say something that makes me feel like I'm the only person in the world. "You're late," she teases, her voice lilting with that familiar mischief.

My heart leaps into my throat. "Late? For what?"

She steps closer, but she's not quite close enough. There's a distance between us that I can't explain, something like an invisible wall I can't touch, no matter how hard I try to reach for her. But I can feel the pull of her presence. The familiar warmth of her.

"We're running out of time," she says, as if it's the most casual thing in the world.

The words hit me like a punch to the gut, and I blink at her, confused. My mind races, but I can't seem to grasp what she means. "Running out of time? What do you mean? Where are we going?"

She giggles, and the sound is like music. It's been so long since I've heard it that I almost choke on the relief that fills my chest. The way she laughs, the way her eyes sparkle—this is the Lex I remember. The one I'm waiting for.

"Silly," she says, flashing me that smile—the one that always makes my heart skip a beat. "You forgot?"

"I—No, I just..." I stammer, my mouth going dry. I don't know how to follow her train of thought. Her words are floating around in my head like smoke, elusive and slipping away faster than I can catch them.

She grabs my hand. It's warm, real, like she's here and I can touch her. The pressure of her fingers against mine is something I haven't felt in days, but it's different now.

"Come on," she says, pulling me toward the door, her steps light and carefree. She's already a few feet away, and I scramble to follow, trying to keep up. She's moving fast, as though she knows something I don't. Something I can't quite grasp yet.

I glance over my shoulder as we walk, half-expecting to see something in the room I recognize but everything looks perfect. Too perfect. Like a scene in a movie where everything is just set up to look beautiful, but nothing has any real depth.

"I don't..." I struggle to find the words. "I don't understand. Where are we going? Why are we running out of time?"

She doesn't answer, instead tugging me along faster. Her pace picks up, and the world around us starts to blur at the edges. The door behind me fades, and I have to strain to catch up, to stay close to her.

Where are we running to?

"Lex, wait," I shout, my voice panicked. "Why are we running out of time? What do you mean?"

She turns back to me, her gaze softening, but she doesn't stop walking. She just looks at me for a second, eyes full of love.

"I miss you, Macky," she whispers, her voice laced with a sadness I didn't expect to hear.

I reach for her. "Lex, please don't—"

But she's already pulling away, the distance between us growing. Every step she takes feels like she's slipping through my fingers. Like she's fading from me, just out of reach.

"Lex!" I shout, desperate. "Where are you going? Why can't I reach you?"

But she doesn't answer. She just turns her back on me, walking faster now, like she's leaving me behind.

"Lex, please!" My voice cracks as I try to chase after her, but no matter how fast I run, she stays just out of reach. She's always a few steps ahead.

My heart pounds in my chest, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I stretch my arm out, reaching for her desperately but she only looks over her shoulder, a smile pulling at her lips, though it's tinged with sadness.

-=+=-Crying again pls. The mom 😭😭