Author’s Note: I am not a doctor, so any ‘medical’ stuff is entirely made up and maybe not even possible :p I just do what fits with the story, and since my characters aren’t medical doctors either, I wanted them to be a little confused about the details as well. Hope you guys enjoy this one!
The door to Phil’s house wasn’t locked. I felt scared as I pushed it open, not knowing what I would find there. Phil had called me, in a complete state of panic, before calling an ambulance, which I would scold him for later, so he had no idea what was going on with his mom. I just hoped she would be okay.
“Phil? It’s me.”
He didn’t answer, but I saw him sitting in a chair in the living room, staring at the wall with an expressionless face. His mom wasn’t there.
“Phil?” I said softly, walking closer. It broke my heart to see him like this. “Where is your mom?”
He startled at hearing me say ‘mom’, as if he only then realized that I was there. “Oh… Allie. They took her away with the ambulance already. She’s at the hospital. I wasn’t allowed to come along…”
“What happened?” I whispered, barely holding back tears myself. The shock of what had happened was only now sinking in. I’d known Isabelle Horton since I was a little girl. I decided to give my parents a big hug when I got home.
Phil stood up, rubbing his exhausted face with his hand.
“They’re not sure. Probably something with her heart… You know how she always works so hard, and sleeps so little, and the stress of that might have been too much.” He bit his lip and turned his head away from me.
“Is she going to be okay?”
He sighed. “They think so. Apparently, I found her quickly after it happened, so they still had time to… to save her. They’re pretty positive that she’ll recover, but still…”
Phil angrily blinked his tears away. “It’s my fault.” “Phil!” I cried out, but he kept talking. “It is. I should have gotten a job and helped her out with money, so she didn’t have to work so hard. But she didn’t want me to. She wanted me to focus on school and now… Look where that’s gotten us.”
“Phil, stop it, don’t say that.”
I grabbed his hands and squeezed them, forcing him to look at me. His gorgeous, blue-gray eyes looked so sad and so full of pain and worry… It took all I had in me not to kiss him.
“This is not your fault. You are such a good son, the best son any mom could ever ask for. Everything will be all right. She’ll recover, that’s the only thing that’s important right now.”
Phil sighed. “I guess you’re right.” He hesitated for a second. “But… I’m scared, Allie.”
I pulled him towards me and embraced him. I could feel his heartbeat against mine, his strong arms and shoulders softly wrapped around me. “I know you are,” I whispered. “So am I. But it will be okay. You have to have faith in that.”
I took a step back and smiled. “You look terrible.” He chuckled a little, despite the situation. “I’m going to make you some soup and a cup of tea and then you’re going to get a good night’s sleep,” I said, determined. “I can sleep on the couch if you don’t want to be alone.”
My heart jumped when I saw a tiny half-smile form on his face. “Thanks for coming over, Allie. I really needed you.”
A few hours later, after I’d fed him soup and tea, Phil was sitting on his bed. I was rummaging around his room, getting laundry and old dishes together to clean up a little bit.
“You don’t have to do that, you know. I can do it in the morning,” Phil said.
“It’s fine, I don’t mind.” The truth was, I didn’t want to go to sleep yet. Sleeping alone in their living room on the same couch Phil had found his mom, not-moving and white as a ghost, wasn’t exactly appealing to me.
We were silent for a while, as I was picking up dirty socks from the floor. Suddenly, Phil croaked: “Allie?”
I turned around and saw Phil’s face, barely holding back tears. His hands were shaking. “Can you stay here for a while? With me, in my room?”
I didn’t say anything, just threw down the socks, sat down next to Phil and put my arms around him. As soon as his head fell on my chest, he started sobbing uncontrollably, his body shaking. I squeezed him close to me and realized that I was crying, too.
“Sssh,” I whispered. “I’m here, I’m with you, it’s all going to be okay.”
He cried for a long time, his head close to mine, his breath warm on my cheek. Eventually, the sobs turned into little hiccups, but I didn’t stop hugging him. I wanted to keep him as close to me as I could.
And suddenly, before I realized what was going on, his lips were on mine. Soft, but urgent, as if this kiss was the most important thing in the world to him. And I kissed him back. Phil was now embracing me, his arm around my waist, one hand cupping my face and getting tangled in my hair. I didn’t know how this happened but I didn’t want it to stop. I could’ve sat there for the rest of my life, and I would have been perfectly happy.
It was as if our lips were created as a lock and a key, that’s how perfectly they fit together. I had kissed before, but not like this. Never like this.
And suddenly, in between kisses, I heard Phil saying it. Over and over and over again.
“I love you. I love you so much. Allie, I love you.”
And I kept kissing him and he kept saying it, and eventually, I heard myself saying it as well.
“I love you too, Phil.”