“Excuse me, Ms. Lang, we’ve had to move Mr. Morris to the ICU,” Dr. Shaw said, pulling me from my thoughts.

“What are you talking about? I thought Alec’s injuries weren’t life threatening. He’s not shaking as much anymore. Why has he been moved to the ICU?” I asked.

“Are you a member of his family?”

“No. I’m his . . . friend.”

“I’m sorry, but I need to talk to a member of his family.”

“Umm . . . well, it’s really just us. Now. I mean, he has his Aunt Robin, but she’s on a trek across Europe with her boyfriend. And he has his brother, Emmett. But he’s not here. Can you check his file please? I know he put me as an emergency contact before his Aunt left for Europe.”

Dr. Shaw flipped through Alec’s chart to the last page.

“Ahh. Here it is. Samone Lang, right?”

“Yes, that’s right,” I answered, relieved.

“Well, Ms. Lang, the test results are conclusive. The EEG shows significant seizure activity. Mr. Morris has epilepsy.”

“No, you must be mistaken,” I said. “Alec doesn’t have epilepsy. I mean, I think I would know. We dated for nearly two years in high school. Your damn tests are wrong. Alec has never said anything to me about having epilepsy, and that’s not something he would hide from me.”

“I’m sorry, Ms. Lang, from the best my colleagues and I can tell, since his fall, Mr. Morris has been in Convulsive Status Epilepticus.”

I must have had a confused look on my face, because Dr. Shaw smiled apologetically and walked me over to a chair in the ICU waiting room. When we sat down he continued.

“It’s a condition that occurs in epileptic patients who are in a state of continuous seizure activity that lasts more than five minutes, or if they have frequent recurrent seizures without regaining full consciousness in between them.”

It was like white noise in my ears as I tried to focus on what he was saying.

“Patients with Convulsive Status Epilepticus have an increased risk of permanent brain damage and death.”

I gasped as my hands flew to my mouth.

“As you can see, Mr. Morris has yet to regain consciousness, and he’s having frequent tonic-clonic seizures. In between those tonic clonic, or convulsions, he’s still registering significant seizure activity that isn’t showing physically. I really need to know what anti-epileptic medications he takes. Does Mr. Morris have any immediate family I can call and discuss his medical care with? I need to know his complete medical history. I need a list of his current medications before moving forward with treatment options,” Dr. Shaw said.

“Alec isn’t taking any prescription medications . . . that I know of. He doesn’t even take vitamins,” I said as I shook my head.

Dr. Shaw let out a frustrated sigh. “Would you mind calling his brother, please? At the moment, he’s in stable condition, but that could change at any time. I can assure you, the issues between Mr. Morris and his brother aren’t as important as his current state of health.”

I nodded. “Yes, of course. I think I’ll take a walk for this call, if you don’t mind.”

“That’s fine.” Pointing to a sign on the wall, he stated, “We prefer no cell phone usage in the ICU anyway. Remember, Ms. Lang, time is of the essence.”

Right. Time is of the essence. Please, Emmett, pick up the phone.

Ever since he broke up with me, he wouldn’t answer his phone or respond to my text messages.

Oh God, he’s never going to even listen to my message.

“Hi Emmett, it’s me. It’s urgent. This isn’t about us. Please listen and don’t delete this. Look, something’s happened. Alec’s in the hospital. This neurologist, Dr. Shaw, is saying that his test results show seizure activity and that he has epilepsy. The doctor needs to know his complete medical history, and what medications he takes for his seizures. I mean . . . this is crazy. Alec doesn’t have epilepsy. We’d have known if he were having seizures. I never would’ve called unless it was something important. But none of this is Alec’s fault. It’s my fault. I’m sorry, Emmett, more sorry than you’ll ever know. Anyway, this doesn’t matter right now. Please, just call Kennestone Hospital and ask to speak with Dr. Shaw. You don’t even have to call me back. I lov . . . I’m sorry.”

Auburn’s about an hour behind us, so he was probably still at work. I scrolled through my contacts for the Lumberyard.

A chipper voice answered. “Auburn Lumber Mill, how may I direct your call?”

My mind grated on her upbeat tone. I reminded myself, this girl was doing her job and had no idea, the nature of my call. I swallowed hard after a quick breath.

“Hi, I’m trying to reach Emmett Walker.”

“One moment please.”

I stood leaning against a bench outside the hospital, my leg shaking as I waited. I listened to her tap-tap-tapping the keys on her computer, and I wanted to scream at her to just pick up a phone or radio and call for him.

“I’m sorry, miss, but Mr. Walker isn’t on schedule for today.”

“What? Are you sure?”

“I just looked. He hasn’t been here all week, and he’s not on the schedule again for another week after this.”

“Oh. Can I leave a message, in case he calls in?”

“Sure. What’s your name?”

“Sam. Please ask him to call my cellphone. It’s urgent.”

“All right, did you want to leave a number?”

“No, he has it. Thanks for your time.”

Walking back into Alec’s room in the ICU, I felt my heart sink in my chest. He was just lying there, his eyes closed. He looked peaceful. They had him hooked up to monitors and a blood pressure machine. There were IV lines in his arms and one was connected to a bag of blood.

What the hell?

They weren’t giving him blood when I left to call Emmett. I decided to wait there and ask Dr. Shaw why they had started a blood transfusion. Something had changed. I needed to know what it was. God, I hoped Emmett would call back.

As I sat in the cold, hard chair at Alec’s bedside, my mind raced back to the morning. I didn’t want to remember it. I didn’t want to think those thoughts again. What the hell was wrong with me?

Why couldn’t I just have left well enough alone? He didn’t have to know. He didn’t have to hurt . . . his eyes never would’ve held the stark realization, the torment of true pain and misconceived betrayal. It didn’t matter that it was unintentional, that Alec and I weren’t together when it happened. Because it didn’t change the fact that it was with Emmett. But most of all, it didn’t change the fact that I loved them both, and nothing was gained, but everything could be lost from those words I spoke this morning. My selfish attempt to clear my conscience, for not being able to love Alec the way he needed me to, and not being able to let Emmett go.

Neither of us knew who the other was. We were just two lonely strangers at a damn college frat party. Being with Emmett felt so right, more right than I’d ever felt in my entire life. I felt whole when I was with him. If I’m honest with myself, the thought of being without Emmett feels so wrong, it causes physical pain in my chest.

The months following that frat party were like heaven. We fit into each other’s lives so well. Until that last Sunday morning Emmett and I were together. When Alec called, our worlds turned upside down, our lives shattered with one cruel twist of fate—they were brothers.

Sitting there, I held his hand. It was the only sense of warmth I felt. Everything else was so cold. Everything and everyone. God, why hadn’t Alec told me he had epilepsy? How could he have kept something like that from me? What if Emmett didn’t listen to my message or never returned my call? I decided to send him a text. Maybe he’d at least see it before deleting it. He hadn’t replied to any I’d sent after he ended our relationship.