Page 71 of Caden & Theo

She hesitates. That hesitation sends an icy stab through my chest.

“He’s being stabilized,” she says. “He arrived in critical condition. I can’t say more.”

“I’m his boyfriend,” I tell her. “Please. I need to know.”

Her lips press together in a tight line. “I’m sorry. Due to privacy regulations, unless you’re listed as next of kin?—”

“Call his parents,” I snap again. “Please. They’ll tell you. I gave the number.” Fuck, it’ll take them hours to get here.

She sighs. “I believe they were contacted. But until we verify?—”

I close my eyes, hating everything about this moment. Hating that I’m here and he’s there. That we were five minutes from somewhere beautiful. That I fell asleep behind the wheel. That I?—

I can’t finish that thought.

“Am I going to surgery?” I ask when I can finally open my eyes again.

“Yes,” she says. “They’ll be here shortly to prep you.”

I nod, but it feels distant. Everything does.

All I can think about is the last look I had of Caden’s leg. The way it bent the wrong way. The blood. The glass. The mangled door pressed against him. The way he never spoke again after they pulled him from the wreckage. He never opened his eyes.

Not even once.

He always opens his eyes when I say his name.

The nurse squeezes my shoulder gently. “We’ll let you know the moment we’re able to, okay?”

I don’t answer, because the truth is, I already know.

Something’s broken that can’t be fixed. And I’m the reason it happened.

The ache in my chest isn’t just from broken ribs or guilt. It’s from the fear that the person I love most in this world might never open his eyes again. And if he does, it might be to a world where our lives are forever changed.

It’slate morning by the time my parents arrive. The hospital staff have been keeping me up-to-date about when to expect them.

The sterile light in my hospital room is too bright, making everything feel surreal and too real all at once. The quiet humof machines and the faint murmur of nurses moving outside my door fills the silence as I lie here, heavy with drugs and heavier with dread. My head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton, but my thoughts are jagged and sharp, refusing to dull.

I blink blearily toward the doorway just as it opens. My mom rushes in first, her face blotchy and streaked with worry, followed closely by my dad—his jaw set tight, his eyes already shining. Amelia trails behind them, moving slower, her hoodie sleeves tugged down over her hands like she’s trying to make herself small. Her braids are frizzed at the edges, the way they get when she’s been pulling at them.

They look like they haven’t slept. I doubt they have. It must have been hell for them to have to wait until this morning for a flight to get to us.

My mom is crying before she even gets to my bed. “Oh, baby,” she says, her voice cracking, and she carefully leans in to kiss my forehead. “Are you okay? Are you in pain?”

“I’m fine,” I whisper. “They’ve got me on meds.” I glance down at my casted arm, the bruises blooming beneath the hospital gown, but none of it matters.

“Is Caden okay?” I rasp, before they can ask me anything else. My throat burns with the question I’ve been carrying since I woke up. “No one will tell me anything. What’s going on?”

My mother opens her mouth—but nothing comes out. She turns away, covering her mouth with her hand as fresh tears fall. And just like that, I know. I know it’s bad. Something inside me cracks.

“Dad,” I say, hoarse and urgent. “Please. What happened? Tell me. Tell me now.”

My father steps forward, taking a steadying breath. His voice is rough when it comes. “Theo… he’s alive. He’s stable now, but… it’s serious.”

I nod, bracing.

“His left leg,” he says slowly, gently, like the words might break me if he’s not careful. “They had to amputate. Below the knee.”