Utterly Forgettable | MM Romance | Complete

Nineteen: I'd Like To Stay

Fluorescent hospital lights. Josh hated this part. He never actually went with the families, but there were usually more members present to support one another during the excruciatingly long wait to find out what was happening to their loved ones.

He'd offered to drive Emery, who'd been in no fit emotional state to be behind the wheel; the idea of letting him go inside all by himself wasn't worth considering.

If only they'd taken her to Columbia Presbyterian, then maybe he could have gotten some updates from Mark, if nothing else. This hospital, quieter and more luxurious than any hospital Josh had ever been in, with its lush green plants decorating the private waiting room, was nothing like the one Mark worked at.

None of the luxury and greenery served to help Emery at the moment — in times like these, fear and grief came to everyone indiscriminately. He was pale and drawn, brown eyes clouded with worry fixed somewhere past the glass door. Josh wished he could say something soothing, but there was nothing. Anything he could offer now would be an empty platitude at best, an outright lie at worst.

And the timing of it... if she died now she wouldn't have held her finished anthology in her hands, which was bad enough. But Emery had left the room to take his call minutes before she... Would he blame himself for it, if this was the end of her road? Even with all the concessions he'd made, with everything in his schedule shifted to accommodate more time with his sister, would he carry that burden with him?

He didn't deserve any of that. Josh placed his hand on top of Emery's, attempting to comfort him. Emery started at Josh's hand for a moment, blankly, then turned his own hand upwards, lacing his fingers through Josh's and tightening his grip. Neither of them spoke.

Three hours later the glass door slid open to admit an unfamiliar nurse. "Mr. Hall? I've been asked to convey a message." His tone gave nothing away.

Emery rose immediately. Josh's hand had gone numb.

"Yes?"

"'I'm not quite dead.' — that's the message."

The sound Emery made was somewhere between incredulous laughter and heart-wrenching sob.

"Your sister had a heart attack, but she's stable now. Her cardiologist will be with you shortly."

Josh took the first full breath since that afternoon. A heart attack, and she was quoting Monty Python? Damn right she wasn't quite dead.

#

It wasn't until the counter was clear of dishes and crumbs, when Emery would usually open his laptop and start working, that Josh gave in to his curiosity.

"Emery?"

"Yes?"

"You said... You don't have to tell me, of course, but you said our experiences were different..."

"Telling my parents?" Emery asked, adjusting his glasses. "Dramatically so. Diametrically opposite, in fact. I was younger than you — thirteen at the time — and, unlike you, I was convinced telling them would mean the world would end. Not so much my mother; I think I always knew she'd be supportive. It was my father I was worried about. He'd go on about 'real men' to anyone who would listen — 'real men don't shy away from an honest day's work' or 'real men don't lie'. Even 'real men don't drink the last of the milk without adding it to the shopping list'."

Josh smiled. He was beginning to see where Emery had gotten some of his traits from.

"He only stopped using that expression once Emma announced, over lunch with our grandparents from both sides of the family, that dad had taught her women could lie at will and do all sorts of dishonest work if they pleased, since they weren't 'real men'."