Chapter 217 Missing Him
The hallway was a total madhouse, people rushing around like headless chickens. I asked around and scoured the place from the entrance to the end before I finally spotted Brad, just standing there in front of these big iron doors, looking all spaced out.
Brad was still caked in mud, with bits of grass sticking out of his hair. He used to stand tall, but now he was all hunched over, looking beat and kinda down, like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
I had no clue what was going through his head. I stood there for a solid five minutes, and he didn’t even flinch or notice me.
"Brad," I called out, standing about six feet away.
Brad snapped his head around. When he saw me, he looked kinda shocked. There was something in his eyes, but it was gone before I could figure it out.
I figured Brad’s mind was all wrapped up in that injured woman, and he’d totally forgotten I existed.
"What brings you here?" Brad forced a tired smile, walking over. He looked like he wanted to put a hand on my shoulder but then thought better of it and pulled back. He pointed to a bench against the wall. "Let’s sit over here."
Brad plopped down, leaving a seat between us. "I’m too dirty."
For the first time, there was this weird distance between us.
It wasn’t just in my head or some jealousy thing because of another woman; it was real, like a wall between us.
I wanted to ask him what was up, why his eyes didn’t light up when he saw me. I came all this way because I was worried, I missed him, and I was scared something had happened to him. He didn’t have to be all emotional, he could even tell me I was being silly, but he couldn’t just ignore me.
On my way here, I kept telling myself Brad would be fine, that I was here to take him home. He’d be happy to see me, hug me like he used to, and call me "baby."
But reality was a whole different story. He wasn’t happy, he didn’t hug me. Aside from that initial greeting, all I got was his exhaustion and indifference.
A girl’s heart is sensitive, especially when it comes to feelings.
I pushed down the discomfort, telling myself Brad was just too tired and I should understand. 'Jane, usually it’s Brad who takes care of you. Now that he’s had a rough time, it’s your turn to take care of him. Don’t overthink it, don’t let irrelevant stuff mess with your head.'
Yeah, what I needed to do was take care of Brad, not let my mind wander. Brad’s a good guy; he’d help a stranger in trouble. How could he not care about a colleague? If he didn’t care, he wouldn’t be the Brad I’ve admired since I was a kid.
I scooted closer, took off my backpack, placed it on the bench, squatted in front of him, and pulled out a big pack of wet wipes to clean his hands. After that, I wiped his face and hair.
He didn’t say a word, just let me do my thing. I glanced up occasionally to see his eyes deep and his face filled with nothing but fatigue and worry.
Who was he worried about? I didn’t want to think about it.
"Brad, are you hurt? We wanted to come see you right after we got off the bus, but the person in charge wouldn’t let us, saying we’d interfere with the doctors." Hugh found us, took a few big steps over with Daniel, and bent down to carefully check Brad, afraid of missing a spot.
Brad held my hand and had me sit next to him, then patted the other side and forced a smile. "Dad, just sit. I’m fine. Daniel, call Mom and let her know I’m okay so she won’t worry."
"I called as soon as the passage was cleared. When your mom heard the news, she couldn't stop crying and didn't sleep all night. If we hadn't insisted, she would have come with us. It's a good thing she didn't come; if she had seen the scene last night, she would have fainted. And thank goodness you're okay, otherwise, your mom might not have made it."
Hugh's old eyes were filled with tears, carrying the joy of surviving a disaster. His rough hand stroked Brad's head and then patted his shoulder heavily, his love evident.
Emma's call connected, and Daniel handed the phone to Brad. "Mom wants to talk to you."
I was close enough to hear Emma sobbing uncontrollably on the other end, and Brad forced himself to comfort her.
Seeing that Brad was indeed unharmed, Emma felt at ease and hung up the phone.
"Brad, you haven't eaten anything, have you? I brought milk and bread. Have some."
I opened my bag and took out the food. Brad rubbed the top of my head while taking the items. He slowly drank half a can of milk, and opened the bread bag, eating in small bites.
He leaned back on the bench, so exhausted that he seemed to lack the strength to chew the bread.
I couldn't help but feel sorry for him, and the thought of asking him what was going on naturally disappeared.
He was Brad, the person who loved me the most. He wouldn't do anything to hurt me.
I trusted him.
After eating, Hugh felt reassured seeing that Brad was okay. Hugh was too old, hadn't slept all night, and had done a lot of physical work. Daniel was worried about his health and took him back to the hotel to rest.
I didn't leave; I stayed by Brad's side.
We hadn't seen each other for over a month. I thought I would be fine, but the time when I really saw him I realize how much I missed him.
I stared at Brad, unable to get enough of looking at him.
Brad, noticing my gaze, turned his head, and his eyes filled with tenderness. In a hoarse voice, he asked, "Why did you come here?"
"I saw the news and was worried sick. My boyfriend was trapped by a disaster, his life or death unknown, and his phone was off. No one knew what was going on. How could I not come?"
I moved closer to Brad, and grabbed his arm, wrapping it around my shoulder. I snuggled into his embrace, holding his slender waist. Breathing in his earthy scent, I finally felt at ease.
Brad was okay, and that was enough.
My fingers touched the rough fabric, and the pain from the wound made me gasp and shiver.
"What's wrong?" Brad grabbed my hand, saw the injury on my finger, and his eyes reddened with heartache. He gently kissed my fingertip. "You've suffered."
"I'm not suffering; you are. Brad, I missed you." I hugged Brad, burying my head in his neck, showing how much I missed him.
"I'm dirty; the mud will get on your clothes." Brad tried to push me away, but I wouldn't let him. I moved even closer. "I don't care if it's dirty; I want to hug you."
Brad smiled helplessly and indulgently. He touched my nose with his finger, tucking my hair behind my ear, and kissed my smooth cheek and ear repeatedly.
His lips were cracked in several places, with two wounds still covered in dark purple scabs. When they touched my skin, it felt tingly.
"We haven't seen each other for only a month, and you've learned to be clingy and playful." Brad spread his palm and caressed my cheek.
"I only cling to you. I wouldn't even bother even if others want me to."
We hadn't chatted for long when the door to the emergency room opened. A group of nurses pushed a gurney out, and Brad quickly got up to ask about the situation, leaving me behind.
I was a bit slow because I was packing my bag. By the time I got there, the doctor had already briefed Brad on the patient's condition. Brad's face looked grim, and he seemed lost in thought, not even noticing when I approached.
It wasn't until I grabbed his pinky that he snapped out of it, his expression difficult to read.
After the nurses settled the patient into the intensive care unit, Brad and I went in.
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