Falling for my boyfriend's Navy brother novel Chapter 100

Falling for my boyfriend’s Navy brother

Chapter 100: Asher

It’s only been forty–five minutes.

Forty–five goddamn minutes.

But it feels like we’ve been sitting in this whitewashed waiting room for hours. Time moves differently when you’re waiting to hear if someone your cate about is okay–slower, heavier. Like it’s weighed down by every breath you take, by every second you’re not sure if the next one will come with bad news.

Penny’s parents are sitting across from me, their hands linked tightly together. Her mom’s crying in silence. Her dad keeps tapping his knee with a rhythm that’s too fast to be anything but panic. Madame Loretto showed up about fifteen minutes ago and hasn’t said a single word since. She’s standing stiff- backed, like she’s keeping herself from pacing.

I get up and walk down the hallway toward the end of the waiting area and pull my phone out. I dial my parents.

My dad picks up. “Asher.”

“Where are you guys?”

A pause. Too long.

“Listen…” he starts, and my stomach tightens. “We can’t bring Tyler there.”

“What? Why?”

“He’s a mess. He’s shaken up, Asher. Keeps saying it’s his fault.”

“What?” My voice drops into that dangerous register I’ve spent years learning to control. “How the hell is this his fault?”

“I don’t know. That’s just what he keeps repeating. ‘I did this. It’s all my fault.‘ Stuff like that. He’s not making much sense.”

I close my eyes, pinch the bridge of my nose. “He’s probably in shock.”

“I think so too. We’ll keep him here tonight. You just… keep us posted.”

“Yeah.” I hang up and turn just in time to see the doctor pushing through the swinging doors. He’s young. Maybe mid–thirties, Tired face. Serious eyes. He scans the room and says, “Penelope Vales‘ family?”

All four of us rise like rockets. Her mom nearly falls over trying to stand.

“I’m her mother,” her mom says.

“Father,” her dad adds.

Madame Loretto steps forward. “Her coach.”

The doctor’s gaze lands on me. “And you are?”

I open my mouth, but Penny’s mom beats me to it. “He’s family.”

That word sinks into me like an anchor.

The doctor doesn’t argue. “Okay. I’ll make this quick.”

We all lean in like we’re on the edge of a cliff

“She’s stable,” he starts. “What looked dramatic at first wasn’t as bad as we feared. She fell directly on a line of capillaries near her hairline and at the back of her head. The scalp and face have a dense network of blood vessels very close to the surface of the skin. That area bleeds a lot when it bursts, so the blood was… substantial. But it’s not a deep wound.”

1/3

Chapter 100: Asher

Her mom exhales shakily.

“She’s also got a concussion. Mild to moderate. That’s the main concern for now. Reflexes are responsive, she’s conscious, coherent, nothing a bicarn! nothing paralyzed. She will have some bruising.”

The breath I’ve been holding finally releases.

The doctor continues, “She’ll need at least two weeks off from any physical activity. No dancing, no alcohol, no ibuprofen.”

“Because it thins the blood,” Madame says knowingly.

“Exactly,” he nods. “And yes, that reminds me, I assume she’s a professional dancer by her attire? After the two weeks, she can resume with caution. But for the next forty–eight hours, she may experience nausea, fatigue, headaches, sleepiness. It’s all normal with concussions.”

Her mom wipes her eyes. Her dad’s shoulders finally drop from where they’ve been living near his ears.

“You can go see her,” the doctor says softly. “Just one or two at a time for now.”

Her parents move quickly, like a wave crashing forward. Madame stays back.

I sit down again, my hands now fists against my thighs. My knee is bouncing.

Madame lowers herself into the chair next to me, smoothing her skirt like it’ll help straighten out her tangled thoughts.

I don’t look at her when I ask, “What happened?”

She exhales slowly, the breath long and sharp. “Boy… you know your girl’s got a fire in her belly. But sometimes she doesn’t know when it’s worth lighting.”

I turn to her. “What does that mean?”

She presses her lips together. “I shouldn’t say. Not yet.”

“I need to know.”

She eyes me carefully. “And what would you do with that information, my boy?”

“Depends on what you tell me.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

4

I clench my jaw.

She sighs again, then speaks quieter this time. “It wasn’t Luc, that I can tell you. Well, not directly. He dropped her during the final sequence of the Black Swan routine. It’s a difficult lift. One we choreographed to test both their strengths. But he was distracted. Everyone was. Someone… Someone brought a phone in the studio that wasn’t silenced. The thing rang during their dance. The noise–it startled them mid–lift.”

I breathe in hard through my nose.

*Luc tried to catch her. He really did. He got most of her fall, or else… it would’ve been worse. Poor boy is out there blaming himself, when he’s not the culprit at all.”

I press a hand to my face. God.

“I’ve been teaching her almost four years,” Madame says, softer now. “She’s brilliant. So much promise. She’s got nerves, but that’s part of the art. I’ve never been so scared in my life. Watching her fall like that.”

I look at the floor. “She’s strong. She’ll recover.”

*She will. But…” Madame turns her eyes to me now, sharp and assessing. “You. You’ve been on her mind, that I can tell. Four years, I’m telling you. I’m starting to know her pretty well. And I see things. I’m not blind. You care about her. I knew the second I saw you with her for the first time.

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