I gripped my cell phone in my hand once I cleared security. I didn’t want to miss any calls about my mother. The olive green leather chair was cool on my warm skin. My knee bounced as I waited. Had my mother received help early enough? Would there be permanent brain damage? So much could have happened to her.
I’d planned to spend this summer break in Charlotte—find a small apartment off campus where Nate could spend the night and we wouldn’t have to worry about anyone seeing us. Delaney would be traveling the world with her parents and Julian would be back home. But now I’d have to stay in Chicago.
Inhaling all the air my lungs could take, I whispered, “One step at a time, B.”
I flipped open my phone to check for any missed messages or calls. According to the time, Nate had finished his final.
Frantic, I sent him a quick message.
Me: Hey, I'm in terminal C. I'll see you soon <3
Our airplane had taxied and the gate area began to fill. A sea of people traversed the long corridor. My heart raced as I anticipated Nate’s arrival. More minutes passed and still no Nate.
“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. At this time, we will begin boarding flight 2467 to Chicago.” The airline attendant made her boarding announcement over the loudspeaker. Her voice carried on about boarding groups but I ignored it. Checking my phone again, there was nothing from Nate.
I hit the call button. I needed to know where he was. It rang twice before he sent me to voicemail.
I called again.
Voicemail.
On the third time, it didn't ring. He sent me straight to voicemail.
My heart sank.
Had he gotten stuck with TSA?
The line to board was growing and still there was no sight of Nate. The line grew shorter, the sea of people disappeared.
“Ma'am,” the flight attendant said, approaching me. “This is the final call for boarding.”
“My boyfriend, he's coming,” I reassured her, or myself. It was the first and only time I’d ever referred to Nathaniel Wright as my boyfriend.
“I'm so sorry, but unfortunately, we need to close the door.”
I scanned her green eyes and looked down the hallway. I could wait for him or miss the plane.
My mother needed me.
I needed Nate.
I got on the plane.
Chapter 20
Brielle
The air conditioner was turned on max when I boarded the 737. Most of the first class seats were occupied, and I dragged my feet until I found my place among the few left in coach. I counted myself lucky that there was room in the overhead bin and tossed in my carry-on before I took the window seat. The middle seat was vacant.
Nate would surely get on the next plane.
Buckling my seatbelt, I closed my eyes and let the tears stream down my face. I cried for my mother, for the empty seat next to me, and for the fear of what lay ahead.
The plane touched down at O’Hare right on time. Most people dove out of their seat to be the first off the aircraft, but not me. I was operating at a sluggish pace. I powered my phone back on and waited for service. Following the line, I took down my carry-on and disembarked. Small baby steps.
There was no news from Nate or Dr. Christensen. No news was probably good news.
As I made my way down to ground transportation, my eyes locked on a familiar face. My lips pursed with hatred as his grew with a welcoming smile.
“There’s my girl!”
“What are you doing here, Brian?” I couldn’t hide my distaste for him. I hated that my mother named me after him. He’d wanted a little boy more than anything. But when the doctor handed me to my mother, she still chose to honor his name. Brielle Rose Hansen.
“Is that any way to talk to your father?” His tone was sharp, and I smelled liquor on his breath.
I sighed. There was no point in arguing with him. “How’s Mom?”
“She’s still in a coma. When I got to the hospital, the doctor told me she called you and you were on your way. Figured I’d give you a ride.”
“Can I have the keys?” I put my hand out. Brian cocked an eyebrow. “You’ve been drinking. I can smell it coming out of your pores.”
He dug into his pants pocket and pulled out his car keys. “You think you’re so smart now that you have a college education.”
Ignoring him, I switched to autopilot mode and walked toward the parking deck.
The sight of my mother with tubes down her throat destroyed me. I rushed to her side, held her hand, and cried.
“I’m so sorry, Mommy.” Warm tears dripped off my cheeks and onto the crisp white sheet.
My father stood in the far corner, tense as he regarded her.
The doctor cleared her throat as she walked into the room. Her white lab coat covered her hunter green scrubs. Her dark brown hair was pulled back in a low bun.