Twenty minutes had passed when Noah settled into the hard, lumpy chair next to Joe’s hospital bed—his butt was numb, and his injured leg throbbed nonstop. He ignored the ache, leaning forward to fix his gaze on Joe’s still face. “Hey, man.”
No answer.
He exhaled sharply. He’d visited every single day since the accident, yet Joe’s motionless form still hit him like a punch to the gut. When awake, Joe was always on the move—grinning, laughing, cracking jokes, the life of every room. Seeing him completely silent and still shattered Noah’s composure every time.
“Everything’s fine at home,” Noah said softly. “Joey wears your favorite Giants hat nonstop. Won’t take it off, even for bed.”
The room stayed quiet, save for the medical machines’ constant whoosh and beep keeping Joe alive. “Katie’s as tough as ever—stoic, unbreakable. She rearranged your closet three times already, and hate to break it to you, she threw out all your old socks. Even your lucky basketball pair. I tried to save ’em, but the trash crew already hauled everything away.”
He paused, forcing himself to focus on good news. “On the bright side? You’re always nagging her to check the oil on her beat-up old car that she refuses to replace. She’s finally doing it now. Every single day.”
Noah leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. “She misses you so bad.”
I miss you too. “I’m doing everything I can to take care of them, to make sure they have whatever they need.” But nothing’s enough. No one can replace you.
He swallowed hard, holding back the worst truths. He didn’t tell Joe how Joey cried for his dad every night and struggled to sleep. He didn’t admit that none of them were sleeping well, that the whole family was falling apart. “Oh, and some good news: you got called for jury duty last week. You dodged it, though—lucky you, stuck here napping.”
Still no reaction.
The doctors had warned them not to expect any movement, no flicker of the eyes, no squeeze of the hand. Hearing the warning was one thing; living through the endless silence was another entirely. Noah leaned forward again, voice tight with desperation.
“Listen, man. The truth is, I’m failing Katie. I’m failing Joey. Hell, I’m failing everyone. I need you to wake up—” He froze. Had Joe’s eyelid just twitched?
He stared intently for five long minutes, but the movement never repeated itself.
A nurse appeared in the doorway. “Sir? Visiting hours are over.”
Noah locked eyes with Joe’s unresponsive face. “I’ll be back tomorrow.” He squeezed his best friend’s hand firmly.
Joe didn’t squeeze back.
Of course he didn’t. He was trapped in a coma.
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