She couldn’t lose him.
She couldn’t lose him.
She couldn’t lose him.
A large form stepped in front of her, and she collided into it before she reached the ambulance. It was Tyler. He wrapped his arms around her as her knees buckled and she sank to the pavement, sobs wracking her body. His soothing words couldn’t penetrate the icy fear slowly gripping her heart with its cold tentacles. The ambulance peeled away, siren screaming.
She didn’t know how long they knelt on the pavement, but it felt like an eternity as the fear, grief, and uncertainty of the future poured out in salty liquid. Finally, she sat back, taking a shuddering deep breath. She met Tyler’s eyes and saw his own pain reflected in them. “Are you okay?” he asked.
She nodded, then shook her head. She didn’t know how she felt anymore. She felt numb, and somehow, she knew that was worse than the previous raw pain she’d felt.
“How’s your head?”
Piper gingerly touched a finger to a cut on her cheek. “It hurts a little, but not much.”
He nodded and led her over to the back of the remaining ambulance. “Let me clean the cuts on your face, then I’ll take you to the hospital, okay?”
She nodded and took a deep breath. Now that the shock and panic had worn off, she tuned in to the bone-deep ache that had spread over her entire body and the headache that intensified as Tyler shined a penlight in her eyes to check her pupils and gently prodded the bruises on her face.
“What happened?” She sent a glance over her shoulder towards Ezra’s olive-colored Subaru. The entire driver’s door was completely smashed in, and the whole vehicle resembled more a hunk of aluminum than a car. A large black truck sat empty not far away, the grill dented in. More tears leaked out at the sight, stinging the cuts on her cheeks. Funny how she hadn’t noticed them before.
“Hey.” Tyler gently turned her back towards him and started cleaning the wounds on her face. “You gotta stop crying. You know Ez hates when you do. In answer to your question, the pickup truck missed a red light and t-boned the driver’s side of the car. Broken glass did this.” He gestured to her face, then shook his head. “It’s by God’s hand alone that you’re both alive.”
“And Ezra?” she asked softly.
He didn’t meet her eyes, busying himself with applying a butterfly bandage to one of the larger cuts. “He’s probably got a few broken ribs and head trauma; some cuts and bruises. But I don’t think his spine or pelvis was broken. So that’s good.”
“So he’s going to be okay?”
Resting his hands on her shoulders, his blue eyes met her brown ones. “I can only pray so, Piper.”
Piper fiddled with her hands as she sat in the ER waiting room with Tyler. He’d made a valiant attempt to cheer her up—what he did best—but she just shook her head, and he lapsed into silence. He’d insisted on her being examined when they reached the ER, despite her protests. They wouldn’t hear anything on Ezra for a while anyway he’d said, and he was right. She felt like she’d been waiting for hours when it had only been a half hour by the clock on the wall.
The kindly doctor who’d examined her had pronounced her lucky to have no other injuries than the cuts on her face and a few on her arms. She’d cheated death again, Tyler had joked. He had no idea . . . Sure, she’d cheated death again, but at what cost? The expense of someone she loved. Her faith felt shaken and her heart wounded, raw. Why was this happening to her? Again? She was trying so desperately to cling to the promises she knew, but fear invaded once again, wrapping its cold fingers around her.
Another minute ticked agonizingly by and the doors swooshed open for the hundredth time since they’d been sitting there. A tall man in business attire with dark, salt-speckled hair entered. He looked towards the information desk before catching sight of her and Tyler and walking hurriedly towards them.
Mr. Bryant.
He instantly pulled her into a tight hug that melted her fears somewhat. She choked back the tears threatening to rise again.
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” he said, voice choked as he released her and looked searchingly into her face, gently fingering one of the bandages there. His son had been severely wounded in a car accident and here he was worried about her? His kindness soothed over one of the scraped-raw-again scars in her heart. Keeping one arm snug around her shoulders in a comforting half hug, he turned to Tyler, who’d stood up when he entered, and raised a single brow. Ty shook his head.
“Nothing yet, but it shouldn’t be long now.” He checked his watch again and glanced towards the doors leading back into the ER.
Mr. Bryant seated her back in her chair and took the one next to it, loosening his tie and unbuttoning the top button of his dress shirt with a deep sigh. He’d obviously come straight from his downtown office where he’d gone after their little party. Tyler retold the story of what had happened and she was grateful she didn’t have to. He had been not far behind them on his way home, and she was glad for his assistance and support as she gave her statement to the officers and navigated the maze of medical formalities. It helped to have someone she knew with her so she didn’t have to do it alone.
Lost in her own thoughts, she caught only snatches of Tyler’s softly-spoken story.
Not good . . . miracle they both survived . . . the car was totaled . . .
Oh God. She squeezed her eyes shut. What if . . . he was already dead? No, surely somebody would have told them by now if that were the case.
More minutes crawled by. Mr. Bryant reached over and took her hand, smoothing his thumb over the back of it in a comforting gesture. She glimpsed the sparkling diamond and gold encircling her fourth finger and tears trickled down her face. Was it only just hours ago she’d become Ezra Bryant’s fiancée? She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t. She wanted to bolt through those doors and run until she couldn’t breathe. Run back in time to a place where none of this had ever happened. Maybe she’d wake up and find that it hadn’t. . . .
Mr. Bryant squeezed her hand as if reading her thoughts, and she looked up at him, not caring a whit that he saw her crying. Moisture sparkled in his green eyes, so like his son’s. “Hey,” he said. “It’s going to be okay. I know . . .” He swallowed hard. “My son picked a strong, courageous young woman. And you’ll make it through this. I can promise you that. And whatever happens, know that I already consider you a daughter, and always will. Whatever happens.” His voice broke and he bowed his head.
She blinked rapidly and clutched his hand in both of hers, resting her head on his shoulder.
A daughter. When had she last been a daughter?
You have always been My daughter, and I am holding you right now.
The words whispered through her heart, bringing with them a blanket of peace that settled around her.
Piper closed her eyes as happy memories of times spent with Ezra filled her mind. Some from more recent, and some from years ago. Paul and Ezra teasing her. Paul threatening to go after a schoolmate who’d made her cry and Ezra holding him back. Her sixteen-year-old-self curled up on the sofa between Paul and Ezra as they watched a movie at Paul’s apartment.
Piper inhaled deeply and released it as Mr. Bryant started praying aloud.
Finally, a doctor entered the waiting area and glanced around the nearly empty room before coming towards them. Piper straightened, heart in her throat.
“Are you Ezra Bryant’s family?” the doctor asked.
“We are.” Mr. Bryant answered for them as he stood and pulled her to her feet before offering his hand to the doctor. “Tom Bryant, his father. This is Piper Redding, Ezra’s fiancée, and Tyler Collens, a friend.”
The doctor nodded and shook each of their hands. “Doctor Michaeles.” He turned back to Mr. Bryant. “Your son is still unconscious, but currently stable.”
A collective breath seemed to escape all three of them and Piper’s heart slowly slid back to where it belonged.
“If you’ll follow me,” the man c
ontinued, “we can further discuss his condition.”
His condition. The words hit like a sledgehammer and reality popped back in with startling clarity. Mr. Bryant gripped her hand again, this time seemingly to be comforted just as much to comfort, and the three followed the doctor to a small private waiting room. They each took a seat and Dr. Michaeles leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands. It would take a saw to cut the tension in the room as the doctor gathered a breath before speaking.
“Ezra has suffered a severe traumatic brain injury, in addition to three broken ribs on his left side from the impact and some cuts and contusions from the shattered glass, as I see this young lady has.” He gestured to Piper before continuing. “The ribs will heal in four to six weeks, with no complications. They didn’t puncture a lung or cause any further internal damage, which is lucky. Same with the cuts. They’re only superficial and will heal quickly.
“As for the head trauma, he hasn’t roused or shown any response to pain or stimuli yet. We did a CT scan, which showed no fractures or bleeding in the brain, which is a good thing. There is, however, some swelling of the brain tissue, causing pressure inside the skull. We inserted a probe into the skull to monitor the pressure, and if it reaches a certain point, he may need surgery to relieve it to avoid causing any further brain damage. He’s stable for now, though. As for prognosis, he could sleep for a few hours and wake up completely fine, or . . .” The doctor scrunched his mouth to the side as if he didn’t like what he had to say. “Or he could potentially never wake up. It’s too soon to know. I’m sorry to be so blunt, but I don’t believe in false hope. I wish I could give you something more definite, but . . .” He spread his hands and shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve ordered an MRI, after which he will be moved to ICU where we’ll monitor him for the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours and see what happens.”
Dr. Michaeles was quiet for a few moments as he allowed them to process all he’d told them. Tyler hunched forward and fiddled with his hands. Mr. Bryant still held her hand and absently stroked it. Piper sat silently staring at a crack on the floor, watching as the tile seemed to spin in circles.
Never wake up . . .
Finally, the doctor cleared his throat and she jerked. “Do any of you have any questions?”
Mr. Bryant spoke first. “Can we see him?”
Dr. Michaeles nodded. “Of course. I’ll have a nurse come for you as soon as he’s settled in ICU. It’s been proven to be beneficial to have those a patient loves around them even when unconscious. Just be prepared, he may look pretty rough to you.”
Mr. Bryant nodded and Tyler asked a few more medically detailed questions she couldn’t follow before the doctor stood. He sent a concerned glance her way as he did so. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”
Mr. Bryant looked at her as well and just shook his head. The doctor left. Ezra’s father stood and pulled her into his arms in a futile attempt at comfort.
Piper felt empty—numb. She wasn’t sure what she should feel if she could. Never wake up.
God, I need You.
P iper and the others followed the nurse into Ezra’s room in the ICU. He checked the various monitors and displays by the bedside before stepping back and motioning them forward with an encouraging smile. With a gentle hand on her back, Mr. Bryant guided her towards the bedside while Tyler stood on the outskirts of the room to give them some space. She’d tried to prepare herself, but at the first sight of Ezra her lungs constricted and she felt the blood rush downward from her face.
He lay completely motionless on the bed except for the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest. His face was completely white beneath the angry-red cuts and scrapes. The left side of his face was bruised and swollen and more welts covered his lower arms and the backs of his hands. An IV protruded from one and an oxygen monitor was on his index finger. Oxygen prongs protruded from his nostrils, and the monitor the doctor had mentioned was attached to the top of his head.
If it weren’t for the movement of his chest as he breathed, she’d think him dead.
Her heart seemed to miss a beat and she pressed a fist to her mouth and ran from the room before anyone could stop her. Leaning against the opposite wall, she slid to the floor, pressing her face to her knees. God, I can’t do this. Don’t make me go through this. I can’t, she cried. He said He was holding her, but it felt far from it right now. All she had was faith, and that felt as thin as a thread, able to be snapped with the slightest pressure. More tears fell and she saw Ezra's blood-covered form on the ambulance gurney again. Then it was Paul, lying in the street in a pool of blood. Back and forth the two images rotated through her brain.
Suddenly, arms enfolded her, rocking her back and forth, shushing as a mother would her infant. And then the voice started speaking scripture softly into her ear.
“Fear not, for I have redeemed you. I have called you by name, you are Mine. When you pass through the waters I will be with you. When you walk through the fire you shall not be burned. For I am the Lord your God, your Savior. Fear not, I am with you . . .”
The rocking kept up until finally Piper pulled back. “How did you know?”
Miss Cecile smiled. “Tyler called me. I came as soon as I could.” She wiped the tears from Piper’s face with a tissue, careful to avoid the tender cuts and scrapes. More tears welled up in place of the ones she wiped away.
“I can’t do this, Miss Cecile. I can’t.”
The nurse looked straight into Piper’s eyes, firmness and confidence in the brown depths. “You can. And you will. You need to be strong for that man of yours, and the Lord says there ain’t nothing you can’t do with His help. He’s got’cha, darlin’. Now you get back in there and let the boy know you’re there for him. Got it?” Miss Cecile rose to her feet with surprising ease, considering her bulk, and tugged her up. Piper took a deep breath and looked at Miss Cecile one more time before stepping into the room. The woman gave a firm nod and Piper put one foot in front of the other.
Piper sat in an uncomfortable hospital chair by Ezra’s bed, one hand gripping his as she watched the slow rise and fall of his chest. Three o'clock, almost five hours since the accident, and still he hadn’t moved or so much as blinked. As each motionless hour ticked by, she could tangibly feel the fear circling around the room, hovering closer and closer with each pass. Mr. Bryant sat at the other side of the bed, head in his hands as he prayed. New lines had been added to his face, the stress of this awful day making him look older than his fifty-five years. She understood the thoughts that must be running through his head. They’d both lost a loved one, and were now in keen danger of losing another.
Tyler had prowled around the room, seemingly unable to be still. He’d left a few minutes ago to get ready for work. Ezra should be getting ready for work now as well . . . The thought pierced. Piper shifted in her chair as the monitors beat their steady rhythm and rested her head on her arms, putting her own restlessness into prayers. For Ezra. For herself, for Mr. Bryant and their extended family. For Ezra’s friends, Tyler. So many loved this man, and they were all hurting because he was hurting. She stroked his hand again and raised her head, speaking softly.
“You’ve got wake up, Ez. So many people love you. You can’t leave yet . . . I need you. I . . .” Her voice broke. “I can’t live without you.” Tears fell again and she sniffed them back. She had to be strong. Pulling out the small card Miss Cecile had written on and slipped into her pocket, Piper read it again. “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.” Such simple words, but so hard to live by. She rested her head on her arms again and continued alternating praying and thinking as the long vigil grew longer.
“Piper. Piper.”
Ezra was calling her. She had to wake up. Her head shot up and she blearily rubbed her eyes and looked to Ezra. But he was completely still, yet sleeping the sleep of the comatose. A hand was on her shoulder as her name was called again. She turned to find Mr.
Bryant behind her.
“Piper, I was going to run to my house real quick and grab some things. Do you want me to take you home?”
“No!” Panic lit her tone. “Please don’t make me leave, Mr. Bryant. Let me stay,” she pleaded.
His gaze softened and he wrapped an arm around her trembling shoulders. She was strangely and suddenly cold. “Of course I won’t make you go. I just thought you’d want to be home. I’ll be back in about a half hour, all right?” She nodded and he patted her shoulder. “Oh, and it’s Tom, okay?” he added, smiling softly. She gave a weak smile back and nodded again.
He turned to leave, the stoop of his shoulders attesting to his weariness. A nurse came in just as he left and checked the various monitors and displays, clicking keys and changing the IV. She wished it was Miss Cecile, but she didn't work in the ICU. The nurse finally finished her work and wrote a few notes for the doctor on the clipboard at the foot of the bed before turning to Piper with a kindly smile.
“Anything I can get you, hon?”
She thought for a moment, absentmindedly rubbing her arms. “A blanket would be nice, thank you.”
“Of course.” The nurse nodded and left, coming back with a blanket a short time later.
Piper tucked the blanket around herself and looked at Ezra. The swelling on the left side of his face had only gotten worse as the day went on. The doctor had said his face likely slammed into the doorframe at the impact, causing the bruising. She ran a finger lightly over the swelling. Her face didn’t look the greatest either with the cuts that still stung, but it was nothing in comparison to this. Her heart clenched. She couldn’t imagine the kind of pain he would be in if . . . when he awoke.
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