HUGE X2: A TWIN STEPBROTHER MENAGE ROMANCE (HUGE Series)
HUGE X2: Chapter 7

We drive to the hospital in silence, the sound of Nathan’s favorite band playing softly in the background.  I stare out of the window, looking at everything that we pass but taking nothing in.  It’s as though my mind is frozen at that point Nathan answered the call and it won’t restart until we get there and I know.

It’s the longest and shortest two hours of my life.  A blur of cloudy thoughts and an awareness of Ethan and Nathan and the things that Wendell’s call interrupted.  I can only see Nathan from where I’m sitting and his profile looks so serious as we pull into the hospital parking lot.  Ethan turns and gazes at me over the back of his seat, worry coming off him in waves.

“We’re here, Carrie,” he says but it’s as though he’s asking me a question.  Will I be able to walk in there and cope with whatever we are going to find out?  I don’t have an answer but I nod anyway and that seems to be enough for him.  Nathan finds a parking spot.  The air is cold in a way that only comes with nightfall.  I pull my sweater closer into my body, drawing my hands inside the cuffs.  Ethan opens the trunk to retrieve the things he gathered at home.

There’s an odor that all hospitals seem to have, probably a mix of disinfectant and food, but it seems to smell like something more sinister; the creep of sickness and death.  I follow the twins as they negotiate their way through the corridors, asking for directions every so often.  They keep looking at me and I know they probably want to hold my hand but it’s awkward.  There’s a lingering sense of something interrupted hanging between us.  It’s as though fate intervened and cut short our foolishness.  I feel a vicious stab of guilt that almost doubles me over.

We turn a corner before reaching a small waiting room.  Wendell is there with his head in his hands.  He has abrasions on his fingers and wrists.  And a small bandage on his forehead.

“Dad,” the twins say at the same time.

Wendell is on his feet and across the room in seconds.  “Carrie,” he says, pulling me into a hug.  “She’s out of the operating room and in recovery.  They said it went as well as it could and that we just need to pray now.”

“Pray?” My voice sounds vacant and hollow.

Wendell nods and I turn, looking for a seat.  My legs are weak, as though they have lost their solid bone interior.  My hands feel weak too.  I’m sure if I was holding something it would fall from my grip.

I hear the twins asking their father questions about the accident but I can’t take in his responses.  I close my eyes and think of my mom.  I make a promise that I’ll do whatever it takes just so long as my mom survives.  I’ll try harder at college.  I’ll do more chores around the house without complaining.  I’ll volunteer and do the things I’ve always meant to and never gotten around to; there’s a local foodbank that I’ve meant to sign up to support, and a soup-drive for the homeless.  I’ll be a better person, someone who thinks about others. All of this is good but I know it’s not enough.  I know I need to make a bigger commitment.  If fate thought that what I was doing with Ethan and Nathan was so wrong, I need to make sure it doesn’t happen again.  At that moment I promise that I’ll stop thinking about my stepbrothers in that way.  We’ll go back to being family again.  It isn’t too late.  We can just put everything down to the fact that we are young and foolish.  I’ll tell the twins we should have known better.

I should have known better.

We sit and wait.  Hours pass like they did in the car and my mind is fogged with worry and fatigue.  Ethan and Nathan take seats on either side of mine.  I don’t know when I fall asleep but I wake with my head in someone’s lap, one heavy hand on my shoulder and another on my hip.  I try to turn, but I’m so stiff from sleeping uncomfortably that I struggle.

“Hey,” someone says from across the room.  It’s Wendell.  He’s looking much better than he did last night.

“Is she okay?” I ask hoarsely.

“She’s doing well.” His smile lights up his face.  “She’s groggy from all the meds but she squeezed my hand and managed a few words.  The docs are really pleased with her progress.”

I sit up, taking in the amazing news.  Mom’s getting better.  Maybe my promises made a difference, or maybe not.  Whatever.  I feel good for making them and mom getting better is all that matters.

I don’t get to see Mom that day.  They want to keep visitors to a minimum in case of infection.  We decide to stay at a hotel around the corner from the hospital.  Wendell remains at the hospital and the twins and I drive over.  I feel like the walking dead.  All the stress has really taken it out of me.  I catch them looking at each other, communicating something but I don’t know what.  Maybe they are just worried about me.  The intimacy we shared hangs between us even though all our minds are elsewhere.

At the desk, Nathan goes to book a family room but I ask for a single.  Both the twins frown but they go ahead and pay anyway.  I take my key card and we make our way in the direction of our rooms.  We come to my door first and it’s so damn awkward.

I put the key card in the door and push it open.  I feel the boys coming in closer as though they want to come in the room with me but I stop and turn.  “I need some time,” I say.

“We just want to make sure you’re okay,” Nathan puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes gently.  His tenderness brings tears to my eyes.

“I’ll be fine,” I say turning to look at them.  Their normally bright blue eyes seem dull and ringed by the dark circles that come with a terrible night of broken sleep and worry.  Their hair is mussed and their chins are scruffy with a day’s growth.  They’re standing so close and all I want to do is slip into their embrace and hide there.  I want to draw on their strength and cry myself out.  I want to hear their reassuring words.  They would take care of me.  I know this.

They are so close but I’m alone.  It has to be this way.  I step back into the room, my hand on the handle as a sign that they can’t come any further.  Nathan nods once, as though he understands, but his expression is grave.  “Call us when you want to go back to the hospital,” he says and I nod.  I don’t watch them leave to go and find their room.  I can’t.  I have a lump in my throat that feels like a boulder.  When the door is closed I make no move to turn on the light.  I drop my purse to the floor, flop onto the bed and cry myself to sleep.

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