When we arrived at the Santos' home, Liam's mom explained the details of Tía's situation to us. She got bypass surgery, where they grafted healthy blood vessels to create a detour from the blocked ones. Her heart was stopped for the surgery, which is standard procedure. But her heart did have a hard time starting itself afterwards. Still, the surgery itself was successful. Coma wasn't usual for heart surgery, but it also wasn't unheard of. For now, all we could do was wait for her to wake up. All we could do was pray that she'd wake up.

There was a time, Mrs. Santos was sure, Tía had a small stroke while visiting them. She'd dropped her knitting needles and then said some slurred gibberish. Afterwards, she promised she was fine. It probably hadn't been the first time she had a stroke and probably wasn't the last.

I was still angry with my mother. Certainly, the reason things had escalated this far was that she and Tía didn't take Tía's disease seriously. What was with the Latina women in my family always acting tough? When my parents divorced, I hadn't seen my mother cry once. When my Tía's husband died and dog, Tiko, passed I know Tía only spilled her tears privately. But the fact that my mother had cried at the hospital, maybe she felt some regret.

When Tía woke up, would she be angry at my mother for doing the surgery she was against? Was Tía not waking up because she felt it was her time to die? Yes, I'd become an adult and left the house, but she and Lily had gotten so close. Why would she want to leave Lily?

Dinner was quiet. I waited to see the scene where Liam and his parents would talk, but it didn't happen. Liam was quiet as he watched the Maple Leafs battle it out on the rink. He no longer looked sad. Now, his expression was like nothing. He was numb.

That night, we climbed into Liam's bed. I wanted to cry for him. I wanted to cry for Tía. Liam was here now, but I couldn't save him and his parents weren't doing anything. Tía was half here and only God could save her.

Our backs faced each other but there was so much distance. I rolled over and scooted close in an attempt to cuddle up to his back. I was hit with coldness as he moved away.

Tears rolled down my cheek and I sniffed. "Please, Liam. I need you right now."

Not even a second passed before his arms were wrapped around me and his chest against my temple. "I'm sorry." It felt like I hadn't heard his voice in days. "I was being selfish."

I scooted closer to soak into his body heat. "She was my second mother."

"Don't use past tense."

Liam let me cry myself to sleep in his chest, stroking my head the entire time. Part of me was ashamed to ask for soothing from someone who was hurting and needed to be soothed himself. The other part of me was so glad and thankful for this missed warmth.

***

The next morning, I woke up in bed alone. The bathroom mirror reflected something hideous. My eyes were puffy―the bags no joke. Sighing, I travelled downstairs to find Liam at the kitchen table with his dad by the stove.

Liam turned in his chair. "Good morning." He placed a kiss on my cheek.

Who was this man? His attitude had changed completely from yesterday―from the past weeks. "Morning," I said with an awkward smile.

Mr. Santos turned around to greet me as well. "We're having pancakes."

"Where's Mrs. Santos and Lily?"

"They went to church," Liam explained. "In place of your mom. She wanted to go but doesn't want to leave Tía Rosa's side."

I nodded. "I should've gone."

Liam stroked my back. "It's okay. You needed rest."

I was in straight up Oz. Where the fuck was Toto?

King came prancing into the kitchen, wagging his tail as he made sweet eyes at Mr. Santos. The universe apparently thought it was clever.

"You've got the wrong person," Mr. Santos said firmly to the dog. The jackshund sighed and left the kitchen with a disappointed expression. Mr. Santos carried three plates of pancakes to the table and placed two in front of Liam and me. "Lily is the only one who feeds him human food, I don't know why he even bothers to beg from me."

"You won't know unless you ask," Liam said.

Mr. Santos raised an eyebrow. "Ask the dog?"

Liam chuckled. "I meant King asking."

"Oh, oh."

Did Liam just laugh?

It wasn't until we drove to the hospital after Lily and Mrs. Santos came back from church that I realized. Last night, I'd relied on Liam. That was what he needed. My boyfriend wasn't himself unless I relied on him. So what was I supposed to do? Was it best for me to act needy so that he could feel fulfilled? Or was it best that I encourage him to change that dependency on being depended on?

Tía was the same as yesterday. Not even her eyelids fluttered.

***

Though I'd been permitted to take some leave, my work hadn't stopped. I sat on Liam's bed, laptop resting on my thighs as I struggled to write for my column. Pushing up my glasses to rub my nose bridge, I remembered I needed to schedule LASIK for after the New Year. I couldn't blame my struggle on my eyesight, though. The reason for the words being unclear was that my mind was unclear. When I glanced at the clock, it was already 10 PM. I'd been working since seven. Without a doubt, I needed a break.

As I passed the large window by the stairs, I notice Mr. Santos' car was gone. Lily's door was closed; she was definitely asleep. Mr. Santos had probably taken my mom a change of clothes or food if he was gone this late.

Mrs. Santos' voice came from the kitchen. The way their house was built, from the kitchen table you couldn't see anything because of the walls. But from the connected living room to the front and middle of the staircase to the side, you could see through the large doorway into the kitchen. She was sitting at the table with Liam, a large book laid out in front of her.

"Look. Do you remember?" She pointed to the book and I realized it was a photo album. "Rosa knitted you two Christmas sweaters. Alex hated the design, but after you put it on like it was nothing, he was beaming for this picture."

I remembered that. Back then, I was such a pushover for Liam. He was my idol, the coolest kid I'd ever met. I wanted to be like him just as much as I wanted to be beside him.

"Mom, did you have a feeling?" They'd flipped through other pages. From the distance, I couldn't see the photos myself, but I'd viewed that part of the album before. There were countless photos of our time in second through third grade.

"About what?" Mrs. Santos asked as she gazed at the photos.

"Alex."

"What about him?"

"Him being in love with me."

There was a pause. "No."

"He's liked me since back then." My cheeks heated.

"Has he?" She looked up. "I guess you apologized then."

He had. Way more than necessary. "Yeah," he replied. Unfortunately, I couldn't see his face from my angle.

"I had a feeling about you, though."

"I... kind of figured that out," Liam replied, voice tinged with chagrin. I smiled to myself, recalling his words as he pleaded to not tell our parents about us. Minutes before he stuck his tongue down my throat in front of them. I crossed my legs―just realizing I'd taken a seat on the steps, eavesdropping comfortably―and wondered when was the last time we had sex.

"It was tough," Mrs. Santos said. "We didn't want to influence you in any direction―gay, straight, or other. Just support you. The line between friendship and something else was blurry for even us to see... You protected your friend and were happiest when he was around. We scolded you for punching Raphael, but we really thought, 'Yes, we've raised him right.'" She smiled and looked her son in the eyes lovingly. "You were really good to him, Liam. He'd just come from a rough place, abusive father, no friends, and you opened your arms with no prejudice."

Of course, back then my mother had confided in my best friend's parents. What little self-worth I had back then was all thanks to the way Liam treated me. And he'd done it because he was Liam, not because his parents told him to or he felt obligated.

"No wonder he fell for you, what a catch!" she teased with a playful laugh.

Seriously, he was my hero. And for years, he was used to being my hero. Even when we weren't friends, he tried to be my hero. Now, I didn't need a hero, and Liam didn't know what to do with himself.

Liam's next words showed his thoughts were in the same place as mine. But hearing it from his mouth crushed me. "A lot has changed since back then, though."

A lot had changed, but my love for him hadn't. His kindness hadn't. And our past hadn't.

***

Three families stood in the hospital waiting room in front of the doctor. The only one not present was Bruno, who was studying in Spain and said he'd come if there was a funeral. The doctor met ten pairs of eyes with a serious yet empathetic expression.

"Ms. Camejo-Murphy's surgery went well and she's stable, so it is unexpected―strange that she's still comatose. She'll survive, but we don't know when or if―when she'll wake up."

The doctor was shifting between being frank and sugarcoating. She seemed young, and though she was the one to offer the key to saving Tía, this was probably her first time either dealing with this type of situation or such a large family.

"Her vitals have been stable, but we're continuing to monitor them for any signs of deterioration which is the first sign of the body shutting down. There is still a chance she'll come out of the coma, there's just no way of saying exactly when. We have seen patients come around in a matter of days. More often, we see months. But taking her level of coma, her age, and health into consideration..." She paused to glance around with sympathy as she pursed her lips. "If she's still comatose by the end of the week, we can discuss your next options. But right now, we definitely recommend that you see if she left a will."

My mother wore an expression full of worry and exhaustion as my uncle said he'd help look around the house for a will.

"Crista, you've been at the hospital for days," my uncle's wife said. "Why don't you let Nicolás stay here and I'll help you look?"

My mom sighed heavily. She turned to me. "You and Liam shouldn't miss any more work. It's a miracle that things reversed but there's no telling when or if―when she'll wake up." She echoed the doctor earlier.

"But Mom... Christmas is in a couple of weeks, anyway, and―"

"You aren't in school anymore! You don't get a week off," she remarked all motherly, like I didn't know.

I cocked my head. "No, but―"

"Don't worry, Alex. Daniel and Angela are here with me."

"What about Uncle Nicolás?" I demanded, gesturing to him.

He lifted his chest and looked at me over his nose with folded arms. "I run my own business, so I can take off when I want."

I was definitely ready to clap back, but Liam took my hand to reign me in.

He didn't flinch. "Mateo and Marco are done with their exams and out of school. If they weren't here, they'd be alone at home."

I rolled my eyes. Whatever, I didn't have time him. "Mom―"

"Go back, Alex. I will keep you updated, I swear." She cupped my face and all I could do was trust her.

When we travelled back to the Santos house in the middle row of the SUV, Liam was quiet while staring out of the window. Watching him, I knew―I was back in Kansas.