expired

Chapter 8, Part 2

"Where's my son?!" Mr. Walker demanded to the receptionist of the ER.

"Sir, who is your son?"

"Clay Walker: he's ye tall, brown eyes, black hair, and has a scratched up head. Where is he?!"

"Room 1403-- you can go in, but please be calm. The doctors have treated what they can, and--"

Before the lady could finish, Mr. Walker had darted down the hallway, muttering "room 1403" to himself. I followed him, his run only being a brisk walk for me.

When we finally found Clay's room, there were two doctors standing outside of it, talking. They saw Mr. Walker approaching and put two and two together.

"Mr. Walker?" the older looking doctor asked. Mr. Walker nodded. "I'm Dr. Ellis. Your son is in much better condition than we thought. His skull isn't cracked-- which was our original theory --but he just has a nasty cut from the way his helmet hit on the side of his head. Some bumps and bruises on the outside, but our biggest concern is he's got three bruised ribs. He'll need some time to heal for those."

Mr. Walker nodded. I'm not sure if he even heard them, it seemed like all he could think about was seeing Clay. Then he'd know.

"Can I see him?" Mr. Walker asked, even though the receptionist said we could.

"Of course," Dr. Ellis moved out of the way of the door.

When we went inside, it was just like the hospital room I'd seen my grandma in so many years ago. Except this time, Clay was on the bed, his head all wrapped up and some sort of wrap around his chest.

"Dad," Clay nearly cried, trying to get out of bed to greet him.

"No, stay, stay," Mr. Walker said, rushing over to Clay and pushing him back down while hugging him. "Are you okay? What hurts? Did they take good care of you?"

"I'm fine, really. On some killer pain meds right now, the world looks a little funny," Clay joked, making a face. Only Clay would joke around not even an hour after getting in a crash. "Are you okay?" he asked, concerned with his father, who was growing paler.

"I'm okay for now. We're at the right place if I'm not," Mr. Walker winked. Clay laughed, but barely acknowledged Mr. Walker's presence. Mr. Walker followed Clay's line of sight, which lead straight to me. He was staring at me, wanting me to say something, anything. I didn't know what to.

"I'm going to see myself out, just for a minute. Go take a leak, maybe grab a coffee," Mr. Walker, said showing himself to the door. He winked at me, patting me on the shoulder before he left, the door clicking softly behind him.

"Eva--" Clay started. Before he could say anything else I was right beside him, kissing him. I'd missed it so much.

"What--" Clay tried to start again.

"I'm so sorry, Clay." I interrupted, taking a deep breath. Clay patted the bed, inviting me to sit next to him. I did, taking his hands in mine, heart monitor and all. "I can't explain it. I can't explain why I did what I did, but you have to trust me I felt like I had to. But you also have to trust me when I say I'm so, so sorry. It was the one time you needed me, but I couldn't be there for you," I choked, taking a shaky breath. Clay squeezed my hand, as if to say "keep going, I'm listening." "I've learned a lot. I felt like I had to be able to fix everything for you, and if I couldn't do that for you, I was putting you in danger of getting to someone or something that could. And so I left.

"But I've learned since then that all I can really do is be there for people. I can't try and change fate, it's just going to do what it wants. But if I love everyone, and am there for everyone as much as I can be, everything is going to work itself out. The universe promises that to us, I've learned."

"Eva?" Clay said.

"Yeah?"

"I love you too."

I smiled, feeling myself begin to tear up. Clay reached up to me with his hand, holding it to my face. I laughed, letting the tears of joy flow.

In that moment I realized that, no matter what I do, as long as I could accept people's love and show them love in return, everything was going to work out. There was nothing I can control, but nothing I can't do without love.

And with that thought, I watched the clock above Clay's face fade away for good.