Is this Zadie?
I stared at the message. I’d meant to turn my phone’s sound off before falling asleep, but I’d passed out after a crying jag, so that hadn’t happened.
It was six in the morning, and I was awake, wondering if I should reply. As always, curiosity won out.
Me: It is. Who’s this?
Unknown number: Marco. Got your # from Julien’s phone. Wanted to let you know he’s in the hospital. He got hit by a car. He’s in a coma. Shit is rough right now, but I thought you should know. He doesn’t have a lot of friends, no family. He needs prayers, good thoughts, anything you got, Z.
I nearly dropped my phone but held it tight. Julien was hurt? No, no, no. I’d just seen him two nights ago. Vibrant, healthy, alive. How could he be in a coma?
Me: Where is he? I’m coming.
Marco: No, you can’t come. Amir’s barely hanging on. He’s yelled at two nurses already. I don’t think seeing you will help anything. Julien needs your prayers, baby girl.
Me: Of course. I won’t stop. But I’d really like to see him too.
Marco: I’ll keep you updated. If there’s a time I think is good for you to stop by, I’ll text. For now, pray, healing thoughts, vibes, all that.
Me: Please. I won’t stop thinking about him.
I fell back on the bed, all cried out. This was surreal. Two weeks ago, I’d had breakfast with Julien in his kitchen. Two weeks that might as well have been another lifetime. He was so far removed from me, I couldn’t even go see him at the hospital.
If I let myself think about Amir, about how much he must’ve been hurting, I would have buckled. I couldn’t even allow my mind to go there.
More sleep wasn’t coming, so I got up and went through the motions of my day—busywork to keep me breathing and sane while I waited for an update from Marco.
It was for the best he hadn’t told me where Julien was. I didn’t think I would have been able to stop myself from going there. This waiting game was torture. But I didn’t text him or bother him. I wanted Marco to give all his concentration to Julien…and Amir.
At seven that evening, I finally received the text I’d been waiting for.
Marco: If you want to come down, I’m taking overnight duty while Amir gets some sleep at home.
Me: I’m coming. Tell me where.
The hour-long Uber ride cost…a lot…but I didn’t care. I didn’t even blink at the number. I had to stop myself from running through the halls to get to the room Marco had texted. And when I was outside the door, I paused, getting my breathing under control and preparing for what I might see. Marco hadn’t told me the extent of Julien’s injuries, only that it was serious.
As quietly as I could, I pushed open the door and stepped into the private room. Marco stood right away, tipping his chin to me. I clasped my hands together at my waist, squeezing my fingers tight.
“Hi,” I whispered.
The corner of his mouth hitched. “You don’t have to whisper.” He beckoned me closer. “Come in. Come talk to him.”
I finally let myself look at Julien as I drew near. One of his legs was casted and elevated in a sling. There were bandages around his head, a tube down his throat, and most of the right side of his face was covered in gauze. Very little of his face and arms were without bruising or scrapes. If I hadn’t known this was Julien, I wouldn’t have believed it.
“Oh,” I choked out. “Oh, Julien.”
At his bedside, I stroked the back of his hand as tears pricked my eyes.
“They’re keeping him asleep to try to heal his brain. There was a bleed and swelling, but it hasn’t even been forty-eight hours and they’re seeing improvement.”
I lifted my eyes to Marco. He was watching me closely. The last thing either of them needed was for me to fall apart, so I sucked it up and reminded myself I was here for Julien.
“Of course he’s improving.” I curled my fingers around Julien’s, wishing like hell he could squeeze me back. “He probably heard the nurses talking about the patient down the hall who took four days for his brain swelling to decrease and Julien decided to one-up that guy. So competitive.”
Marco huffed a short laugh. “No doubt.” He sat back down and nodded to the seat right behind me. “Sit, baby girl. Stay a while.”
I did. I pulled the chair right up to Julien’s bed, held his hand, and stared at him. I counted every bruise and scrape I could see. Watched his chest rise and fall. Checked his eyelids for fluttering.
“Do you think he’s dreaming?” I asked softly.
“I hope so,” Marco replied. “Hope it’s a good one.”
“What should I talk to him about?”
“Anything. It’s probably nice for him to hear your voice. Been a lot of anger surrounding him since this went down.”
I bit my bottom lip to stop myself from asking about Amir. I wasn’t here for him or myself. This was about Julien.
I thought he would like to hear about what had gone on at Pi Sig, so I launched into the story, leaving out no details. Marco was rapt, leaning forward in his chair to hear my quiet storytelling. He cracked up at Elena chopping up the Harvard scarf.
I grinned at him. “She’s a menace.”
“Sounds like it.” He cocked his head. “Can I ask you something?”
I hesitated, then nodded. “Okay.”
“What were you doing there? At the fight?”
“Oh.” I pressed my fingers to my lips. “Vanessa told me he was fighting, and I guess I needed to see for myself he wasn’t changing. I thought it would help me move on.”
“Did it?”
I shook my head. “The only thing that’s going to help is time.”
He seemed contemplative, but he didn’t speak to me anymore. We sat there together for two hours before I had to leave. It went like that the next couple nights. Marco friendly enough, but distant, Julien sleeping between us.
On the fifth night, I walked into the hospital room and Marco wasn’t there. A doctor was by Julien’s bed, peeking under the bandages on his face.
“Oh, hi. Should I come back?”
She raised her eyes to me, and I was struck by midnight. “No. Have a seat. I’ll be done checking my patient momentarily.” She didn’t move back to Julien, giving me a long once-over first.
“Are you a friend of Julien’s?” Her accent was so light, it was barely there, but it gave her no-nonsense tone a lyrical lilt I bet she hated.
“Yes, I am. Are you…the plastic surgeon?”
Her gaze grew shrewd. “I am.” She peeled off her gloves, kicked open the trash can, and tossed them inside. “Are you a friend of my son as well?”
“Which one?” Even without looking at her nametag, I’d had little doubt who this woman was. Amir’s resemblance to his mother was incredibly strong. From his long, straight nose, thick brows, bow-shaped lips, and fathomless eyes, he shared many features with her.
She sniffed. “Rahim doesn’t have many friends, and those he does have wouldn’t spend their evenings sitting vigil by a hospital bed.”
“Rahim? I…um, don’t know who that is. I’m sorry.”
Her gaze settled on the tablet in her hands where she tapped away with elegant fingers, another feature she had passed on to Amir.
“My son goes by Reno. I refuse to refer to him as that.” She glanced at me again. She really was elegant all over, her dark hair tucked neatly at the base of her head, artfully applied makeup, small, tasteful diamond studs in her ears. “You must be Amir’s friend.”
“Yes.” I couldn’t explain who I was to this woman when I hadn’t wrapped my head around it myself. “I am.”
“I’m surprised. You seem like a nice young woman. My sons aren’t known to keep the best company. I’d advise you to be wary and not get involved too deeply with Amir. His brother has corrupted him to an irredeemable level. He’ll only drag you down with him.”
I jerked back at her harsh assessment. This was her son and she was speaking about him this way to a person she’d barely exchanged words with? Amir had devastated me, yet my loyalty was unshakable.
“Don’t worry about me. I don’t think you know your son very well if you believe, even for a minute, he would drag me anywhere. Amir is one of the smartest, most hardworking people I know. Above that, he’s protective of those he cares about.” I folded my arms over my chest. “You don’t know Amir, Dr. Abadir, and I feel sorry for you. Because you’re missing out.”
The muscle in her cheek twitched. “I know both of my sons. Do you wonder why I’m checking on my patient while Amir and Rahim are absent? It’s because my sons forced me from his room this afternoon.”
I took a step closer. “Do you wonder why they wouldn’t want you anywhere near them? Could it be that you and their father neglected them for so much of their lives, all they had was each other? Is it possible you’re the one who is irredeemable?”
She scoffed. “I won’t dignify your remarks with a response. You’re a child. One day, when you mature, you’ll understand my point of view. I don’t owe my sons anything just because I gave birth to them. They are adults and capable of making their own way in the world.”
As she brushed by me to the door, I whispered, “They were children once.” Her footsteps stuttered, but she continued, practically leaping out the door and slamming it behind her.
I whipped around at the slow clap coming from Julien’s bed.
“You’re awake!” I’d been so distracted by meeting Amir’s mother, it hadn’t even registered that Julien’s breathing tube had been removed. He was still covered in wires and tubes, but he was breathing on his own.
“Yeah.” He sounded raspy and tired, but beautiful nevertheless.
I stood by his bed, taking his hand in mine. He squeezed me back, and I choked on a sob. Nothing had ever been more wonderful than Julien squeezing me back.
His mouth curved at the corners, giving me a lazy smile.
“You told her off,” he said.
My nose scrunched. Heat bloomed in my cheeks. “I probably shouldn’t have done that. It’s not my place. She just made me so mad.”
“You definitely should have done it. I’m just glad you did it after she worked her magic on my face.”
I sank into the chair beside his bed, looking him over. “I can’t believe you’re awake and I’m talking to you. How do you feel?”
“Like I got hit by a fucking truck.”
I sputtered a laugh. “That makes sense.”
“For real, they’re pumping me with drugs. I dread the day they cut me off. But, hey, I’m alive. Didn’t think that was going to happen.” His words were slurred and lethargic, but he’d never sounded more perfect to me.
“Because you were too busy being a hero to save yourself,” I said softly.
Marco had explained what had happened after the fight. Julien saw the truck coming, and instead of running, he pushed the injured, slower Amir out of the way and took the hit intended for him. César had come gunning for Amir as payback for the beating he’d been given. And somehow, miraculously, César’s neck had been broken when he’d crashed into a light pole after hitting Julien. It was strongly hinted that Reno had taken care of him, but Marco couldn’t confirm or deny that.
“I’m no hero, Princess Z. Amir would have done the same for me.”
“I believe that.” I lifted his hand and pressed it to my cheek. “God, I’m happy you’re awake. Did…everyone see you wake up?”
“Yeah. Amir and Marco were here. I got front-row seats to Amir evicting his uptight mama from my room too. I just pretended to nap so everyone felt free to be on their worst behavior.”
I snorted a laugh. “My grandma used to do that too. Then she’d yell at us later.”
“Smart grandma.”
“Yeah.” I couldn’t stop smiling at him. He looked terrible. Really, really bad, and I was right beside him in his worries about how he’d feel once they lowered his pain meds. But for now, I had to focus on the good. The beautiful eyes I was scared I’d never see again. The way he could make any situation lighthearted. His warm presence. The simple, vital fact that every breath he took was under his own will.
His gaze traveled over my features. “You got serious.”
“I’m really relieved you’re alive.”
He gave me the barest of nods. “Me too.”
“Where’s Marco, by the way?”
“He’s home. He told me you were coming. I told him to get his ass home to his bed. He looked like dog shit.”
“He’s been by your side every second.”
He stared at me for a heavy beat. “Marco and Amir. Never doubted they would be.”
“They’re good friends to you.”
His nostrils twitched. “Are you going to ask me about him?”
I brought his hand up to my forehead and exhaled. “No. I’m here for you.”
“He almost died. You know that, right?”
A tear tracked down my cheek. “Of course I know that.”
“You and him need to talk.”
I lifted my eyes to Julien’s. “I don’t know if we need to. I can’t—” my voice cracked as another fissure streaked down my broken heart. “I can’t go through this again, Julien. And this is…this is what it means to love Amir. It’s knowing being hurt is inevitable.”
He clucked his tongue. “You’ve got it all wrong, Princess Z. You need to talk to him. Let him explain.”
Sucking in a breath, I nodded once. “If he wants to talk to me, I’ll listen.”
“Good. Now stop talking to me so I can take a nap, woman. These bones won’t heal themselves.”
Despite all the sadness, violence, pain, and turmoil, I laughed. I held Julien’s hand, smiled at my beautiful, broken friend, and laughed.
