"I'd say you've got a 50/50 shot. He hasn't let anyone else come up since he got here, wanting to be left alone, but he didn't ask me to leave when I sat down."
"You're his cousin. I'm just the son of the guy who put his father here."
"You're his friend, and he's probably your best friend, remember? I'd say it's worth trying."
"Oh, I'm going to try," he said. "Just kind of hoping to not get punched today."
"He wouldn't do that."
"He's done it before," Dante said, giving her a soft smile as grazed her cheek with his knuckle. "He punched me because of a certain somebody he wanted me to stay away from, but I'm too hard-headed to listen."
Gabriella seemed surprised by that and started to respond when a stern voice cut through the hallway. "Nurse Russo!"
Her expression fell as she scampered away without another word. Dante watched her as she approached a familiar man in a lab coat. Dr. Crabtree.
Dante walked past the abandoned information desk to the waiting room. This one was mostly empty in the middle of the night, just Gavin sitting alone, hands clasped together, his head down, eyes fixed on the shiny floor as his knee jumped.
The guy was a live wire, ready to fucking spark.
Dante slid into the chair beside him, letting out a deep sigh. He wasn't sure what to say. He knew what common courtesy told him to ask: How are you feeling? Do you need anything? It was bullshit, though, and he refused to spew it.
How was he feeling?
Like shit, obviously.
Did he need anything?
He needed his father to live.
So Dante sat in silence, inhaling the putrid disinfectant, listening to the machines screeching, wishing like hell he could do something to fix everything. Gavin hadn't said a word, hadn't reacted to his presence, so Dante took that as an invitation to continue existing, planted in that chair so long his ass fell asleep.
"You guys okay?" she asked, the question making Dante cringe. He let it slide, giving her a small nod. "Just let me know if you need anything."
"A do-over would be nice," Gavin chimed in, his voice raspy, "but I'd settle for a Coke."
"I can get that for you," she said. "The soda, that is."
Gabriella retreated, leaving them alone again, as Gavin shifted in his chair, stretching his legs out.
"She means well," Dante said.
"I know she does," Gavin said. "I don't need you to tell me that."
"Yeah, well, what do you need me to tell you? That you look like shit? That you need to eat something?"
"I need you to tell me what the fuck happened."
Gabriella returned, carrying two bottles of Coke, handing one to Gavin before holding the other out to him. Dante took it, catching her wrist when she went to walk away, tugging her closer. "Have I ever told you how gorgeous you look in scrubs? What do they call it on that show you like? McSexy?"
She blushed as she tugged her wrist away. "You're a friggin idiot. Gray area, remember?"
He smirked, watching as she ran off. The moment she left, his expression fell, his amusement gone.
"Fools." Gavin shook his head. "Just as lovesick as Matty and Genna."
Those words were like a kick to the fucking face.
Dante set his soda aside. "Look, I wish I could tell you what you want, but I don't know what happened. All I have is speculation. Theories. Feelings."
"Then tell me how you're feeling."
Dante laughed dryly. "My feeling, Gavin, is that some men just want to watch the world burn."
Gavin hunched over, propping his elbows on his thighs, cradling his head in his hands as he closed his eyes. Burn. Dante instantly regretted using that word.
"I just meant—"
"I know what you meant," Gavin muttered. "Don't walk on eggshells around me. Don't treat me like I'm some…"
"Sentimental bitch?" Dante guessed.
Gavin didn't deny it, sitting in silence, rocking in his seat. Eventually, he sat up straight, pulling himself together. "They have him sedated. He's in bad shape, but it could be worse. Could be a lot worse. They say he's got a good chance of pulling through this, that he got lucky, you know, because somebody got to him in time. Because you got to him. Any longer and we'd be planning his funeral."
"I'm glad he's alive."
"Me, too, but I've gotta tell you, if the roles were reversed, if it had been your father, I don't know if I would've done it. I don't know if