This Crazy Rich Boy

The moment Miguel opens his eyes, the first thought in his head is: Where's Gab? The hospital room is brightly lit, there are machines that surround him, and in a corner, a nurse occupies a small desk and she seems to be writing on a chart.

"Hello," he says aloud, his voice hoarse from lack of use. "Hello, can I have some water, please?"

"Oh, my God, Sir, you're awake!" The nurse is suddenly walking about and tapping on machines and looking at readings. "My goodness! Please, wait, Sir, I'll get you some water."

The nurse disappears into a side-door, and returns almost in an instant, bearing a glass of still water. She helps Miguel sit up. The man gulps down the water like he's been walking in the desert for so long, and only now he's found shelter.

Miguel wipes with the back of his hand some of the water that dribbled down his chin. He smiles. "Thank you so much."

The nurse smiles, too. "Your brother has been waiting for you. Should I let him know you're now awake?"

Miguel thinks about it for a moment, searching his memory. When was the last time he'd seen Gabriel? It seems like it was a lifetime ago. "Please, do."

The nurse disappears. If this is the same hospital where they'd brought Gabriel not a fortnight ago, then his brother would be waiting in a nearby sitting room. Everything's hazy. He's not even sure why he's here. It all seems like he's been dreaming—like he's been moving underwater, his arms and legs heavy, moving in slow-motion. His memory is too hazy, too. He recalls, as if in a dream, Claire as a face coming out of the dark; she said words, and yet he doesn't remember them. That's all he remembers. When yesterday he had woken up momentarily, the doctor mentioned something about an accident. Was he in a car crash? The doctor said not to think too much for the meantime, to get a lot of rest, and let Gabriel fill him in. But fill him in on what, exactly?

"Migs!" Gabriel cries at the door. He's instantly upon him, giving him the most desperate embrace he's experienced in a while. "Oh, my God! Thank God you're back," Gabriel mutters as he sobs like a child. "I thought I lost you, brother. You can't imagine…"

"I'm here, I'm fine, Gab," he says, his voice still hoarse.

Gabriel looks him over, gently touching his bandaged head. "How do you feel?"

Miguel makes a face and shrugs. "Better, I guess. I mean, I had no idea what this felt. Whatever this is." He gives Gabriel a look. "Care to explain what this is? The doctor said you'd fill me in. Did I bump into a tree or something?"

Gabriel pauses. He sighs. "How much do you remember?"

"I'm not sure," Miguel says. "I kind of remember Claire…Her face, at least. Like we were talking. But that's it. All I get is this dreadful confusion whenever I try to make an effort to 'remember', you know."

"Don't strain yourself," Gabriel sighs. "It's time we talked about the big white elephant in the room."

Miguel's brow furrows. "What do you mean?"

Gabriel sits by the bed, facing his brother. He tries to smile, obviously trying to sense how to best proceed with this. Then he remembers the previous day's press conference—the principle of it. How he just tried to keep it as simple and truthful as possible. If there's anything his brother needs, it should be nothing but honesty. Brutal frankness. Mincing words wouldn't help.

"Miguel," Gabriel begins, searching his brother's eyes. "I knew you liked Claire. We had this little 'dance' with her before. I never really thought about it. Took it for granted. Maybe because I had this inappropriate sense of entitlement. That I was the one who sort of 'found' her, and who should naturally 'earn' her love in return. What I'm just trying to say is, I didn't realize until it was too late that your feelings for her were more real than I wanted to acknowledge."

Miguel says nothing.

"But what Claire and I have is real. It has always been real, we just didn't realize it at first. I didn't realize it at first. You know that, don't you? I learned about what you tried to do. All the stalking, the inappropriate advances. You even tried to…I couldn't believe it at first. It didn't seem like something my own brother would do, especially to me or to the woman you knew belonged with me. It hurt me, Migs. Deeply."

"I'm sorry," Miguel mutters. He sniffles. He couldn't look at him. He touches the back of his bandaged head. "Was that the reason for this accident?"

"You were very drunk that night, Miguel. I'm not sure if you remember, but we tried to speak with you. We were supposed to meet at lunch, do you remember?"

Miguel gazes at him blankly. "When was that?"

Gabriel sighs. "Don't worry about that. But the point is, you came to Claire's place, at The Residence, blind drunk. I came as fast as I could. Because I thought that was the right opportunity to talk to you. I just didn't realize how drunk you were. When I arrived, you were at the lounge with Claire, and the first thing I saw was…I saw you grabbing her. Right in the lounge. In the full view of some of the staff and…"

"Jesus…" Miguel squints. "I did that?"

Gabriel nods calmly.

Miguel wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. And yet, the tears stream down his cheeks. "My God! I was such a monster."

"All I tried to do was take you off her," Gabriel says. "But maybe I was so nervous. Or angry. Or just in panic. But I yanked you out so hard that you bumped your head." He sighs, weighing his next words. "That's why we're here. I've been pulling my hair from regret and misery ever since. I couldn't accept that I hurt you. But I knew I wouldn't have been in that position if I didn't see what was happening, what you were trying to do. All this conflict was tearing me apart, Migs. Tell me what I must do to put an end to this?"

Miguel keeps sobbing into his fist quietly. Gabriel is teary-eyed as well. He puts his arms around his brother. "I'm sorry, man," Gabriel says. "But I love Claire. I love her so much. I don't know what to do. I remember what you did for me years ago, when you made that sacrifice so I could be with Michelle. But I don't know. I couldn't do it for you this time, knowing now that Claire returns my feelings."

"Does she love you truthfully without a shadow of a doubt?" Miguel says. "Because if she loves you as much as you love him, I will—"

"I love your brother without a shadow of a doubt, Migs," says a voice. That sweet familiar voice that has haunted him all his nights.

Miguel looks up. His heart jumps in his ċhėst upon seeing that breathtaking vision: it's Claire, looking immaculate in a white dress, smiling at him.