We spend the morning in Drew’s room, quiet and lost in ourselves. The nurses come in and out, checking on Drew, but nobody has any news. Brayden’s mom brings us lunch, demanding we eat. Afterward, she and Tim go home to shower, telling us they’ll be back soon.
When the door opens a couple hours later, I expect it to be them or the nurse, so I’m shocked to see my dad walk in. He’s dressed in a suit, like the one he wears to work every day, and with him is the doctor who’s in charge of Drew’s case. His eyes lock with mine and suddenly it’s all just too much. The waiting. The not knowing.
I throw myself into my dad’s arms as tears well up from deep inside and course down my cheeks. He wraps his arms around me and tells me he loves me while I breathe in his comforting scent. Memories from when I was a little girl surface. Him putting a Band-Aid on my skinned knee when I fell off my bike. Being the one to stitch me up when I tripped and hit my head on the table. Taking care of me when I had the flu and my mother refused to go near me. He’s always put her first over the years, let her call the shots, but when I needed him, really needed him, he’s always been there, and now I need him to make Drew better.
When I finally pull back, he smiles softly down at me. “We need to talk, but right now, let’s focus on your boyfriend’s condition.”
It warms my heart that he referred to Drew as my boyfriend. Then I wonder if maybe he thinks I’ve replaced Ashton and Brayden. Drew wasn’t with us the night I told my parents about them.
My dad’s eyes glance over my shoulder and a small smile tugs at his lips. “I feel like we didn’t get to properly meet last time.” He extends his hand out to Ashton. “I’m Harold Lexington, Mia’s father.”
Ashton glares at his hand for a long moment, and I hold my breath, waiting to see how he’ll handle it. He’s protective of me, all of my guys are, and they know how badly Dad’s choice to go along with Mom’s decision to disown me and cut me off hurt me. Ashton’s gaze meets mine, and I nod slightly, silently asking him to let it go for now. It’s like he said earlier, if he can help Drew…
“I’m Ashton, Mia’s other boyfriend.” He shakes my dad’s hand.
“Nice to meet you, Son.”
Ashton’s jaw ticks, but he doesn’t correct him.
“Dad, you remember Brayden?”
“I do,” he says, stepping over to him and shaking his hand as well. “Good to see you again. I’m sorry it’s under these circumstances.”
Brayden doesn’t say a word, just nods and shakes my dad’s hand.
Dad clears his throat, then walks back over to me and the doctor, who is standing patiently in the corner, waiting for him.
“I’ve taken a look at the tests Dr. Palmer has run. Drew has what we call an ‘athlete’s heart.’ His heart muscles are thicker than they should be. Because of this, blood flow leaving the heart is restricted. You might’ve seen him struggling to catch his breath when he’s overly active.”
Brayden curses under his breath then finally speaks. “Yeah, I have. When we went skiing. When we were messing around in the rink. I chalked it up to him being out of shape and gave him shit for it.”
Guilt shines in Brayden’s eyes. “Don’t go there,” I tell him, cutting across the room and hugging him. “You couldn’t have known. None of us knew besides Drew.”
“But I should’ve,” he argues. “I should’ve known he wouldn’t just leave the NHL. I knew he was hiding something and I didn’t push him to find out what.”
“Can you fix him?” Ashton asks my dad.
My eyes swing over to Dad, but it’s Dr. Palmer who speaks. “Right now, our main concern is him waking up.”
“He will wake up,” Ashton hisses. “And when he does, I want to know if you can fix him.”
“Hockey is his life,” Brayden adds.
“Unfortunately, his condition can’t be fixed,” Dad explains. “Most people don’t even know they have it. They lead a normal life. But those, like Drew, who play an active sport, find out because they put strain on their heart for long periods of time. It can be treated, which, according to his medical records, he’s taking medication for, but there’s no cure. There’s no surgery to fix him.”
“Then how the hell did this happen?” Ashton asks. “He wasn’t playing hockey when he collapsed. He was…” He swallows audibly. “He was packing his shit.”
“The heart attack could’ve been brought on due to several different reasons. Looking at his chart, his medication is too low. If he’s active, it should’ve been reevaluated. He also might not have been taking it. If he was stressed, it could’ve put strain on his heart…”
Brayden curses and walks over to the corner, tugging at the ends of his hair. I want to comfort him, but I also want to hear what my dad is saying.
“So, he’ll never be able to play hockey again?” Ashton asks.
“Not at a professional level,” Dad explains. “The medication slows down his heart, preventing him from going at full speed, which will keep him from playing at his best. And even if he were fine with that, no professional team will let him play in his condition. The risk of heart failure is too high. He could have a heart attack while playing. No team will take on that risk.”
We all go quiet at his words. Heart failure. Drew had a stroke. He could’ve died.
Fresh tears fill my lids and Ashton pulls me into his side. “Don’t go there, MiMi,” he says, knowing my thoughts without me having to verbalize them. “We aren’t going to lose him.”
“You getting him here when you did saved his life,” Dad says to Ashton.
“During cardiac arrest, immediate chest compressions are key,” Dr. Palmer adds. “Because of your quick thinking, he’s still here. I’m certain of that.”
Had he been alone… I can’t even imagine it.
“When will he wake up?” I ask, even though the doctor has said he doesn’t know.
“Unfortunately, now it’s a waiting game. It could be hours… days…” His sad eyes meet mine, silently telling me what I don’t want to hear. He might never wake up.
“Fuck this!” Brayden barks, stalking out of the room.
“Should we…” I begin, as Ashton says, “I’ll go.”
The doctor excuses himself, letting Dad know to inform him if he needs anything before leaving Dad and me.
“I know now isn’t the best time,” Dad says once we’re alone—well, alone with Drew sleeping next to us. “But I thought you should know I’ve left your mother.”
I gasp in shock, never expecting him to say that. “What?”
“It’s why I’ve been calling you. I’ve hired a lawyer and filed for divorce.”
“Why?” is all I can come up with.
“Because she’s not the person I married. I don’t know when she changed, or why I refused to see it, and I wish I could go back and fix what I allowed her to destroy, but when Drew called me—”
“He called you?” I glance over at the beautiful man sleeping. “When? Why?” He never mentioned this.