After a couple of uncomfortable hours on the floor, I dragged myself up and onto my bed. That’s where I stayed for the rest of the day. The only time I got up was to pee and take painkillers for the mind-numbing headache I had given myself. I slept on and off, but nothing solid. My heart ached every time I checked my phone and Jonathan hadn’t called or texted. We’ve never gone this long without speaking and it took everything in me to not text or call him. I knew he was mad when he left, and I wanted to give him space, but at the same time, I wanted to hear his voice even if it was just him telling me he didn’t want to talk.

Staring at my roof, I hear my phone vibrate on the pillow next to me. Quick as a flash, I grab it, not even looking at the caller I.D.

“Jonathan!” I practically shout down the phone.

“No, it’s Kay,” She says quietly.

“Oh, Kay I don’t want to talk, I’m really tired. It’s 12 AM for goodness sake.” I change the phone to the other ear as I roll over and close my eyes.

“Cami, something has happened,” I hear her voice start to trail off.

“Please, Kay, I can’t do this with you right now. Ok?” I sigh.

“I’m coming over,” she says sternly.

“Kay, I just want to be left alone,” I yawn, rubbing the bridge of my nose.

“Cami, I’m coming over. Don’t turn the TV on until I get there”

“What is going on, Kay?” I sit up slowly.

“I don’t want to tell you over the phone, just please don’t turn the TV on,” she begs.

“Kay, you’re scaring me now. What is going on?”

“I’ll tell you when I get there. I love you,” she says before hanging up.

I pull my phone away from my ear and look at it for a moment before my eyes dart to my lounge.

“What doesn’t she want me to see?” I say quietly to myself as I eye the TV up.

Throwing my phone on the side table, I slip out of bed and make my way into the lounge. Grabbing the remote, I turn it on and start flicking through the channels. Nothing catches my eye and, as I’m about to turn it off, I flick past a news channel that instantly catches my attention. I quickly flick back and the first thing I see is ‘Breaking news – Two officers attacked at the 75^th precinct’. Recognising it as Jonathan’s precinct I turn the volume up as high as I can.

“Two New York detectives from the Organised Crime Control Unit were brutally attacked outside the 75th precinct tonight. They have both been taken away in crucial conditions. It is believed another member of their unit found them outside, here on the path, unconscious and called for help. We have just confirmed that the two detectives who were attacked late this evening were Detective Reneya Rossi, 28, and Officer Jonathan Harris, 33. We don’t have any information at the moment on who may have done this, but officials say that the pair were investigating some of the high-ranking members of the Sinaloa cartel here at Red Hook. It is yet to be determined if they had anything to do with the attack on the two officers.” 

My entire body went cold, my mouth went dry, and I felt every ounce of air leave my lungs. Everything around me began to spin. I staggered backward only to feel a pair of hands grab me just as everything went black.

After willing my heavy eyelids to open, I blink a few times trying to clear what looks like a fog blanketing my sight. As my vision clears and everything comes into focus, I roll over slowly and lay there staring at the wall. It’s then that I realise that this isn’t my wall, this is…

“Jonathan’s!” I spring up, my hand shooting to my mouth.

My eyes dart around the room at a million miles an hour as I realise, I truly am in his bed in his apartment.

“What the fuck is going on?” I shout.

“Are you ok, Melek?” I hear Jonathan ask softly from across the room.

I whip around and see him sitting in his armchair, laptop on his lap, no shirt, in his lazy Sunday track pants looking at me oddly. I tip my head at him, my brain not quite registering what it’s seeing.

“Melek?” he says softly, leaning forward and placing his laptop on the ottoman.

He’s here, he’s right there! My inner voice screams.

I jump out of bed and run over to him. Leaping into his lap, I pepper his face with a million kisses.

“You’re ok,” I breathe out between kisses. “You’re really ok.”

“Of course, I am, Melek.” He chuckles. “Are you ok?”

“Yes, I am absolutely fine, baby. I’m just so happy you’re ok and you’re here with me.” I smile at him.

Art by @konturava.art

“Did you have a bad dream, melek?” he asks as he reaches up and cups my face, rubbing circles with his thumb on my cheek.

“Don’t worry about it. All I want you to know is that I love you and I’m so sorry I lied to you. I will never hide anything from you again,” I lean into his hand, closing my eyes.

“I love you too, Melek,” he replies softly. “But I need you to wake up now.”

I shake my head, not sure what he is talking about.

“I am awake,” I giggle.

“No, you’re not, Melek,” his voice trails off.

“What? Jonathan, I’m right here. Look at me. My eyes are open, I’m awake,” I look him dead in the eyes.

The expression on his face changes as he starts to fade from my sight.

“Jonathan!” I cry out as I grab at the now vacant spot he was occupying. “Don’t go, Jonathan!” I cry out again as I sit up abruptly and find myself wrapped in Kay’s arms.

“It’s ok, Cami, it’s going to be ok,” she rubs my back softly.

“Where is Jonathan, Kay?” I shout as I pull myself away from her and search my room.

“He’s… He’s in the hospital, Cami,” she says quietly, her eyes moving from mine to Micah’s, who is standing in the doorway of my bedroom.

I throw the blankets back, grab a pair of leggings and slip them on.

“Cami!” Kay shouts at me.

“What, Kay? What is it?” I yell back, stopping dead in my tracks.

“You can’t go to the hospital in Jonathan’s t-shirt,” she says as she walks up to me and places her hands on both of my shoulders.

“I need to go now, Kay! Do you understand?” I scream, ripping her hands off me and darting for the hall.

Micah catches me by my arm, stopping me in my tracks.

“Let go of me, Micah,” I snap at him, pulling my arm from his grip.

“Camilla, please,” he pleads with me as I slip my shoes on.

“Is the car ready?” I ask curtly.

“I- Yes,” Micah replies quietly.

“Good, then let’s go,” I grab my coat, stuff my keys and phone into my pockets.

Micah reaches in front of me and opens the door, I give him a slight smile and head out. Kay follows as Micah moves past us both, hurries down the stairs and out the doors. I practically jump down the stairs and by the time Kay is able to catch up, I am already outside in the frigid winter air. Taking a few deep breaths, I descend the stairs taking two steps at a time and dash towards the car, meeting Micah just in time for him to open the door for me. I slide in and put my seat belt on. Kay slides in beside me, as Micah walks around to the driver’s side and gets in.

“What hospital is he at?” I ask, panicked.

“The news said it was New York-Presbyterian Hospital- Columbia and Cornell,” Kay says as she leans forward and gives Micah the address.

The entire ride over was a blur, the lights of the city seemed out of focus and dull. Kay was talking the entire way, but I didn’t hear a single thing she said. All I could think about was Jonathan and the very last conversation we had. My entire body began to tremble as I repeated it over and over in my head. A pain ripped through my chest as the tears spilled out of my eyes stinging my already swollen cheeks.

“Why?” I sob uncontrollably.

“It’s going to be ok, Cami, I promise,” she says, taking my hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“No, it’s not, Kay. It’s never going to be ok. What if I lose him, Kay? I can’t lose him. I can’t live without him,” I cry out, my sobbing now so loud it vibrates through my chest.

“Cami-“ Micah cuts her off.

“We’re here,” he announces, pulling into accident emergency.

Not wanting to waste another second in this car, I throw the car door open and run into A&E.

“Jonathan Harris, where is he?” I beg the nurse behind the counter.

“I’m sorry ma’am, but who are you?” she replies calmly.

“I’m his girlfriend, Camilla Adams. Please just tell me where Jonathan is??” I plead with her, tears falling from my eyes.

“I’m sorry ma’am, but if you aren’t direct family, I can’t give you that information.”

“Please, I’m begging you. Please just tell me he is ok, please.” I cry out.

“I’m sorry ma’am, but I can’t share that information with you,” she repeats.

I turn around searching the waiting area for anyone that might be from his precinct.

“Cami! Where is he?” Kay asks as she runs up to me.

“They won’t fucking tell me,” I breathe out.

“What do you mean they won’t tell you?” she looks at me horrified.

“I’m not family, Kay,” I sob, slumping to the floor.

Kay bends down and wraps her arms around me as Micah walks up to us.

“What’s going on? Where’s Jonathan?” he asks, confused.

“It’s a long story. Can you go get Cami a drink please?” Kay asks, looking up at him.

“Of course,” he replies, heading off in search of water.

As Kay hugs me tightly, I glance over her shoulder and see a familiar face come running into A&E. It’s Emir, Jonathan’s brother.

“EMIR!” I shout, springing to my feet.

“Camilla,” He runs up, grabbing me and pulling me into a hug. “Where is my brother?” he asks, pulling away.

“I don’t know, they won’t tell me anything,” I sob.

“What!” His tone angry.

“I’m not family.”

Pulling me with him to the counter, he slams his hand down giving the nurse quite a scare.

“Where is my brother, Jonathan Harris?” His tone cold and stern.

“Ahhh… Ummmm, let me check for you, sir. One moment,” she replies sheepishly as her eyes dart to me and then to her screen.

“This is outrageous,” he exclaims. “This is my brothers’ girlfriend for christ sake. She’s not a bloody murderer,” he scolds the nurse.

“I’m sorry, sir, I’m just following procedure.”

“Fuck your procedure!” He shouts.

“I’m sorry, Ms,” she says quietly, looking up at me.

Emir rolls his eyes at her as he begins tapping his finger on the counter.

“He’s on level six in the ICU (Intensive Care Unit). If you go down that hall and make a right, there are two elevators. Elevator one will take you to level 6,” she says nervously.

“Thanks!” Emir replies curtly. “Come, Camilla, let’s go find my brother,” he says looking down at and giving me a reassuring smile.

I turn quickly to Kay who is standing next to Micah.

“Go,” she says.

“Will you guys be, ok?” I sniff.

“Yes, Cami. We will catch up to you later, ok?” she smiles at me.

“Ok,” I smile back. “I love you”

“I love you too,” she winks at me.

With that, I take Emir’s arm and we make our way to the elevators.

Approaching the ICU nurse, Emir gives Jonathan’s name and his own. The nurse confirms that Jonathan is here and that she will call his doctor for us immediately. I begin pacing back and forth, chewing on the end of my thumb nervously.

“Christ! What is taking so long?” I exclaim in frustration.

“Camilla,” Emir says quietly, walking up to me. “He’s going to be ok.”

I don’t say anything as Emir wraps his arms around me and I sob uncontrollably into his chest.

“Mr Harris & Ms Adams?” A voice breaks through my sobbing.

“That’s us,” Emir replies knowing I can’t speak.

“I’m Dr. Willet, your brother’s physician,” he says softly.

“What happened?” I sniffle out.

“Come with me, I’ll fill you both in on Jonathan’s condition,” he gestures down the hall.

Walking into the doctor’s office, Emir pulls my chair out for me but I’m reluctant to leave his embrace because I’m afraid I’ll collapse and never get back up.

“It’s ok, Camilla, I’m right here,” he reassures me as he lets go and helps me into the chair.

Sitting down, we both sit there in silence, neither of us willing to ask the question we both want the answer to but cannot bear to hear.

“Firstly, I want to start by saying that Jonathan is alive but in a very serious condition. He presented to us tonight with a severe concussion, several broken ribs, a stab wound to the thigh and numerous cuts and abrasions to his face and body. Jonathan’s breathing was very shallow and, as a precaution, we inserted a breathing tube to prevent any further oxygen loss to his brain. Once he was stable, we then took him into surgery and stitched up the stab wound. Once out, upon consultation with a brain specialist, we conducted an MRI. The MRI showed that Jonathan is suffering from what we call a TBI or Traumatic Brain Injury that has caused his brain to swell and fluid to develop around the brain.” He pauses when he sees my face go completely pale.

I felt the life drain completely out of me with every single word he spoke. Emir’s gaze moves from the doctor to me. Seeing I’m about to pass out, Emir immediately gets up from his chair, and, kneeling in front of me, pulls me into his arms, holding me tightly.

“Continue,” he says to Dr. Willet as he begins to slowly rub my back.

“We made the decision to place Jonathan in an induced coma in hopes that the swelling will subside. If all else fails, we will need to operate, removing a small portion of his skull to help with the swelling. This is, however, a last resort. The next 24 – 48hrs are critical and if no improvement is made in that time, we will need to reassess the situation.” He stops, giving myself and Emir time to take in what he has just said.

“Can- Can we see him?” I stutter out between sobs.

“Yes, but I would ask that it only be one at a time,” he replies softly.

I look up at Emir who is now staring off into the unknown. His face is completely expressionless, and his breathing is shallow.

“Emir,” I tug on his shirt, wiping my nose.

“Hmmm,” he blinks a few times.

“Do you want to see him first?” I sniffle.

He looks down at me blankly. “No, you go first Camilla, I’ll-“ he trails off.

“You’ll what, Emir?” I tug on his shirt again.

“I-“ he pauses. “I’ll call my parents and Sapphire to update them,” he says standing, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

“Emir, are you ok?” I ask, standing and grabbing his hand.

Tears begin streaming down his face as he stumbles backwards and collapses into the chair burying his face in his hands. I drop to my knees, placing my hands over his hands as he cries out in pain.

“I’ll give you two a few moments. If you have any further questions, please don’t hesitate to ask,” Dr. Willet says quietly, writing his number down on his notepad.

“Uh huh,” I reply absentmindedly.

“I’m so sorry,” he says as he closes his office door.

I sit there, holding Emir as his painful cries echo off the doctor’s walls. I feel completely helpless and as much as I want to let my pain take over, I can’t. I have to be there for Emir like he has been for me.

“I’m so sorry, Camilla,” he sniffles, looking up at me.

“Sorry for what, Emir?” I look at him confused.

“For falling apart like th-“ I cut him off.

“I’m going to stop you right there; you don’t have to be strong for me or anyone. Ok?”

“I-“ he sniffs. “What if he dies, Camilla? He’s my brother and best friend. How am I meant to carry on without him?” he buries his face in his hands again, sobbing loudly.

I don’t have an answer for that, and the thought makes me feel physically sick. It is not an option for him to die. I will not allow it. He doesn’t have the right to die, he has to survive, or I will never forgive him.