“There was too much bleeding. They couldn’t get it to stop. Armen—”
I stood and walked away. I couldn’t hear her speak those words. To confirm my biggest fear.
As I walked away, my mama’s sobs echoed in the stillness of the night. I stared at the window of the waiting room glowing in the dark, knowing I’d ruined seven lives that night.
But worst of all, I had killed my best friend.
* * *
“There’s the doctor,” Saige says.
“I just got off the phone with his parents and they said it was okay to talk to you, Saige,” an aging man in scrubs says.
The two of them shuffle away, but in doing so, they grow closer to where I’m still sitting against the wall. Great, I get to be here to hear the news right from the doctor’s mouth.
“He’s out of surgery and doing well. His season is over and the beginning of next season will depend on how he heals and how rehab goes, but all in all, he’s a lucky man. I’ve seen these cases before and they don’t always end this well.”
“Thank you so much, doctor. When can I see him?”
Saige is happy. Everyone will be happy.
“He’s just waking up. Maybe a half hour or so. I’ll have a nurse come and get you.”
“Thank you,” she says and walks back into the waiting room, telling everyone the news.
I hear cheers ring out as people say how relieved they are.
I stand up from the floor and walk toward the red exit sign. If it wasn’t for me, Aiden wouldn't be in this situation at all. I have nothing to celebrate.
I knock on Maksim’s door and there’s no answer, so I ring the doorbell. I know he’s home. I gave him all night to get himself out of this blame game.
Nadiya opens the door wearing her cap and gown.
“Well, you look awesome,” I say. “A couple weeks, right?”
“Yes, I cannot wait. I had my grad photos done this morning. Our parents come in two weeks. Are you ready to meet your future in-laws?” She laughs. “Inessa is a tough one.”
“Are you sure they aren’t going to be your in-laws?”
She laughs again. “Never.”
“Is he in his room?” My voice turns serious.
She nods.
“Has he been out of bed at all?”
She shakes her head and I catch sight of Jessie on the couch.
“Hey, Jessie.” I wave. I ask Nadiya, “You heard about Aiden, right?”
“The news says he’s going to be okay. Is that true?”
“Yeah, he’s out for what’s left of the season and maybe part of next, but Saige says he’s doing great and is in good spirits. I wanted to see if Maksim wanted to go visit him.”
As I step forward, Nadiya puts her hand on my wrist. “Losing Armen… he can’t stop blaming himself. The wound is deep and it never healed.”
I nod because I know. I’ve known since he told me the story about losing his best friend. And it’s probably because of my background that I don’t want Maksim to live with that guilt in his life anymore. I want him to be healthy, vibrant and carefree. Not to think he has to be everyone’s protector and then blame himself when something inevitably goes wrong.
“I know.” I pat her hand and venture down the hallway.
I open the door to Maksim’s bedroom. His drapes are drawn and he’s sprawled out on his stomach in bed.
Sitting on the edge, I place my hand on his back, running it up and down, then I trace his tattoos. “Hey, sleepyhead.”
He groans and wraps an arm around my waist, sliding over on the mattress to get closer to me. My fingers roam his body and run through his hair.
When I overheard him talking to Jana and he mocked her for suggesting he loved me, I was hurt. But it’s okay if he doesn’t love me. We’ve only been dating a short while. I can’t be upset about it, even if it stings because I know my feelings for him.
“Come into bed,” he murmurs.
“I’m going to see Aiden and wondered if you wanted to come.”
His body tenses and his arm goes limp. Rolling over, he turns his back to me. “I’m not going.”
I had a feeling this might happen. Sometimes I hate that my education helps me predict people’s responses after I get to know them. “You have to get up and visit your friend. Sulking is doing no good.”
“Sulking?” He huffs, throws the covers off himself, and walks into his en suite naked.
Without shutting the door, he relieves himself then washes his hands before moving to his drawers to grab a pair of track shorts.
“You can shower. I’ll wait,” I say.
“I’m not showering because I’m not going anywhere.” He sits on the edge of the bed, staring at the wall in front of him.
“I think it’s time you talk to someone.” I know last night I was all about letting him do his own thing, but after what happened with Aiden and how he’s taking it, it’s clear to me that Maksim needs to deal with his issues.
“I’m not talking to anyone. What’s therapy gonna do for me?”
My back straightens. I’m annoyed that he keeps pissing all over my profession. “It does a lot of people good. It might give you some perspective.”
“You have thousands of dollars in student loans that say you have to think that.”
I stand. “You’re not serious. I get the whole ‘I’m Russian and we don’t talk feelings’ thing”—I do my best impersonation of him, which is pretty terrible—“but it’s a real profession and therapy helps a lot of people. It doesn’t mean you’re weak if you’re in therapy. Do you even know why I chose my profession? You’ve never bothered to ask me. Probably because you don’t believe in it.” I blow out a breath.
He says nothing.
“I went to therapy after my dad left us and all throughout college. It’s what got me to the point that I don’t have such horrible abandonment issues that I can’t date you. I’m healthy and stable enough to embark on a relationship with a man who’s in the spotlight and has women all over the world admiring him. Have I been jealous a few times? Sure. Sue me. But this is pretty extreme in comparison to a normal relationship. But without therapy, I wouldn’t be who I am. I’d be some twisted up, bitter woman with no confidence to tell you what she really thinks, who would never trust a man.”
I inhale deeply, my chest heaving, my eyes tingling from the tears that want to fall. “Would you like it if I downgraded your profession all the time? Said that all you do is hit people and act like a goon for a living?”
He stands. “You can say whatever you want.” He digs into a drawer and puts on a T-shirt.
“Ugh!” I yell. “Why are you doing this? Why are you pushing me away? Why do you want to be this person?”
He turns around with accusation in his eyes. “What person? There’s nothing wrong with protecting the ones you love. It’s admirable in a lot of people’s eyes.”
“Not when you harbor this much guilt. Aiden is fine, and even if he wasn’t, it’s not your fault. Armen wasn’t your fault. You need to release yourself of the responsibility of it all.”