Craving My Brother's Best Friend (Bailey and Kaleb) novel Chapter 63

**The Night We Borrowed Fire from a Broken Star by Selvin Arlo Crest**

The journey to the hospital felt like an eternity, stretching out in front of me like a long, dark tunnel with no light at the end.

Bailey was beside me in the passenger seat, her body trembling so violently that I feared she might shatter into a million pieces.

David occupied the back seat, his fingers gripping the headrest like a lifeline, leaning forward as if he could will the car to speed up with sheer force of will.

An oppressive silence filled the car, heavy and suffocating.

The only sound that pierced the air was Bailey’s muffled sobs, each one a reminder of the fear we all felt.

“Hold on,” I whispered, my eyes glued to the road, a desperate plea for both her and myself.

“We’ll be there soon. I promise,” I added, trying to inject some hope into the atmosphere.

From the back, David’s voice quivered with uncertainty. “What if… what if he doesn’t make it?”

Bailey gasped sharply, shaking her head as if to dispel the dark thought. “Don’t say that, David! Don’t…” Her voice broke, and she buried her face in her hands, the weight of her worry too much to bear.

I gripped the steering wheel tighter, my knuckles turning white.

“Don’t think like that. He’s going to be fine. We’ll see him in just a few minutes,” I urged, trying to convince myself as much as them.

As we approached the hospital, its white façade glowed like a beacon against the inky blackness of the night sky.

I pulled into the parking lot with a screech of tires that echoed my anxiety. David was out of the car before I had even fully stopped, his urgency palpable.

I hurried around to Bailey’s side, supporting her as she stumbled, her legs unsteady beneath her.

Once inside, the sharp scent of antiseptic assaulted our senses, and the glaring fluorescent lights made my already weary eyes ache.

We rushed to the reception desk, where Bailey’s voice rang out, desperate and frantic. “My dad! Mr. Hart! Where is he?”

The nurse looked up, her demeanor calm, yet the softness in her eyes betrayed her empathy for Bailey’s distress.

“He’s stable now. Room 209. Take the elevator to the second floor,” she instructed, her voice steady and reassuring.

A wave of relief washed over Bailey, nearly causing her to collapse.

David quickly took her arm, guiding her toward the elevator. I followed closely behind, my heart still racing as adrenaline coursed through my veins.

As we stepped into the room, time seemed to freeze.

I stood frozen at the threshold, my breath caught in my throat. Mr. Hart lay in the hospital bed, a stark white bandage wrapped around his side. He appeared pale and exhausted, yet he was alive, and that thought brought a flicker of hope.

“Dad!” Bailey screamed, rushing to his side. She fell to her knees beside the bed, grasping his hand tightly as if afraid to let go.

“Oh my God. You’re okay. You’re okay,” she repeated, her voice trembling with relief.

David approached more cautiously, his jaw set in a tight line, but I could see the relief reflected in his eyes as well.

He reached out, placing a hand gently on the foot of the bed, then quickly looked away, blinking rapidly as if to hold back his own emotions.

Mr. Hart managed a weak smile, his voice raspy but steady.

“It’s just a surface wound. The doctors said it missed anything important. I’ll be fine,” he reassured us, though his words were barely above a whisper.

Bailey broke down again, tears streaming down her cheeks as she pressed his hand against her face.

“You scared me to death. Don’t you ever do that again,” she sobbed, her voice thick with emotion.

“I’m sorry, Bails,” he whispered, his gaze softening as he looked at her.

“I didn’t mean for you to find out this way.”

David cleared his throat, attempting to project strength. “As long as you’re alive, Dad. That’s what matters,” he said, his voice steadying.

I leaned against the wall, a wave of relief washing over me as I watched the reunion unfold.

Suddenly, Bailey turned to me, her eyes wide with urgency. “Kaleb, can you wait here with Dad? I need to get Mom. She just arrived downstairs.”

“Yeah,” I replied softly, my heart swelling with a mix of emotions.

David mumbled something about needing the restroom before darting out of the room, leaving me alone with Mr. Hart.

“I’m glad it wasn’t fatal,” I said, breaking the silence that hung between us.

He looked at me for what felt like an eternity, his expression unreadable.

“Kaleb,” he said quietly, almost as if he was testing the weight of my name on his tongue. “I’m sorry.”

I frowned, confusion washing over me. “Sorry? For what?”

He sighed deeply, shifting in the bed and wincing slightly at the movement. “For everything, for your father and for what happened back then.”

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