She sat there for a few more minutes until an idea came to her. Pulling out her phone, she scrolled to a Bible app. She opened it to the book of John, and, phone in one hand, Ezra’s hand in the other, she started reading aloud.
“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God . . .”
Piper continued reading, barely looking up when Mr. Bryant—Tom—came in. She made it until the fourteenth chapter and her voice choked as she read the verses about the many mansions in the Father’s house. She squeezed her eyes shut and quelled the rising emotion. She couldn’t think about that. She couldn’t.
Tom cleared his throat and she looked up. He held out a hand. Piper gave him her phone and he continued reading where she left off. He continued on through the betrayal and arrest, Jesus’s imprisonment and death. Then the resurrection and the empty tomb. Hope swirled in Piper’s heart. Ezra wasn’t dead, but she hoped the morning would bring an empty hospital bed. Tom’s deep voice and the words of Jesus soothed her, and she slept dreamlessly, her head pillowed on the scratchy hospital sheets as she held Ezra’s hand.
P iper watched as the sun was just starting to sparkle through the second story windows of the hospital. Because of ICU policy, she’d had to go home for the night, but was back bright and early. Tom sat in the bedside chair now, head pillowed on his hands, legs crossed as he slept. He’d changed from the business attire he’d arrived at the hospital in yesterday to faded jeans and a rumpled green button-down.
She looked to the hospital bed. Nothing seemed to have changed. The blanket smoothed across Ezra’s chest still rose and fell in the gentle rhythm of his breathing. His eyes were still closed, the cuts scabbed over on his face, the bruising turned yellowish-purple. The monitors still beeped softly, the IV still dripped clear fluids into his arm. Everything was as it had been for the last who-knew-how-many hours. Piper sighed wearily and rubbed her eyes as the door opened and the doctor stepped quietly in. He smiled and gave her a softly spoken “good morning” before turning towards his patient. He check Ezra’s eyes and vitals, examined the injuries on his face and gently probed his ribs, watching all the while for any response from Ezra. He then turned towards the computers and monitors and spent several minutes there.
In the meantime, Tom stirred in his chair. His eyes popped open and shot to Ezra, then to the doctor, then to her before he slumped slightly in the chair. Piper stood and placed a hand on his shoulder and he reached up and gripped it as they waited.
Finally, the doctor turned towards them and sighed. “No change yet. His vitals are still steady and I’ll order another CT scan a bit later to make sure all is still normal on the inside. But otherwise, he’s just sleeping very deeply.” He cleared his throat and examined his loafers before speaking again. “I want to prepare you, if he does wake up—”
“When.” Tom’s rumbling voice, still heavy with sleep, interrupted.
The doctor hesitated before nodding his concession. “—there still could be a severe amount of damage to deal with. He could have amnesia—temporary memory loss—or other brain damage. From the scans, I don’t see any evidence of the latter as of now, but the former is a strong possibility. I just wanted you to be prepared. Please rest assured we are doing everything medically possible for Ezra.”
Tom slowly nodded and cleared his throat. “Thank you, Dr. Michaeles.”
The man dipped his head and left, the door softly clicking shut behind him, sounding loud in the silence.
“If . . . amnesia . . . brain damage . . . if he wakes up.”
The doctor’s dire words swirled through her brain making her feel faint and numb at the same time. If the doctor wasn’t hopeful . . . Shock and despair slowly spread through her body and limbs, weighing her down.
“Piper? Piper!” Alarm tinged Tom’s voice as he stared at her. She stared unblinkingly back. “Sit down before you fall down.” He hastily pushed her into the chair he vacated and leaned her forward, rubbing brisk circles on her back. Kneeling in front of her, he tipped her face so she had no choice but to look him in the face. “Piper, look at me. Take a deep breath. C’mon, take a deep breath.”
She finally forced her leaden lungs to expand and the dizziness and black spots crowding her vision faded.
Tom nodded encouragingly. “Good girl. Another. Now listen to me, Piper.” He waited until she met his eyes. They were more gray than green, as she’d noticed Ezra’s were when he was upset. “You’re okay, we’re okay. God is right here, and He hasn’t left, nor will He. He promises He’s here with us and for us. Okay?” She nodded. He was here. His grace was sufficient . . . She closed her eyes and took another deep breath and when she opened them, Ezra’s father was still searching her face, making sure she was all right.
“Will . . . will you pray?” she asked.
The tension in his face softened. “Of course.”
T he seemingly endless agony of waiting continued. Friends, family, and even Ezra’s co-workers visited briefly and offered prayers before leaving again. With the stream of visitors, it was clear Ezra was a popular guy. Piper was exhausted merely by having to smile and say thank-you repeatedly. No one mentioned Piper and Ezra’s engagement, and she was almost glad for it.
The future felt too uncertain to even mention it.
In the afternoon, a small group comprised of a few church friends, Tyler, Cecile, and their pastor all gathered in a circle around Ezra’s bed, praying, sometimes silently, sometimes aloud. A small gathering of believers interceding for one of their own in his time of need. Piper was moved to tears by the beauty of it.
She only wished it wasn’t so desperately necessary.
A while later, the doctor came in.
“I have some not-so-great, but thankfully manageable news,” he announced. Piper had to take a slow breath to steady her suddenly racing heart. “In the scan done this morning, it showed a bit of bleeding in Ezra’s brain. That’s not good, but, it was just a small amount, and I feel confident that it will stop and dry up on its own, no surgery necessary.”
Piper exhaled and sat down by Ezra again. She took his hand, longing to feel his fingers tighten around hers, for his green eyes to open and for him to grin that grin she loved. Ezra Christopher Bryant, you have to wake up. I can’t lose you too. I can’t lose you. I love you. She brought his hand to her lips and kissed his fingers before resting it against her cheek. She fell asleep like that until Tom shook her shoulder and urged her to go home.
Feeling bone and soul weary with no fight left in her, she relented after making Tom promise to call her if anything changed.
He hugged her tightly and whispered into her hair. “I promise.”
W hen Piper arrived at the hospital the next morning, nothing had changed. In fact, they seemed to have gotten worse. Ezra’s face was paler, his breathing slower and labored. Tom was grayer and despair flickered in his eyes, though she noticed he made a conscious effort to hide it.
Four days.
Four long days, and still they paced and watched and waited as Ezra seemed to slip further and further away. After the doctor and nurses had left after one of their regular checks, Piper slid to her knees by the bedside and rested her head on the blanket. Tom had left to go home and sleep for a few hours, so she was alone in the room. Despair wore heavily on her heart, and she felt she didn’t have the strength to fight it anymore. She poured her heart out before her heavenly Father and her anguish in salty tears.
“Oh God. I can’t do this. I can’t. I need him. Please don’t take him from me. You can’t take him from me. Help me. I am so, so tired.” Shudders continued to wrack her body long after the tears had stopped.
Then a still, small voice spoke into her torrent of thoughts.
“Will you live without him if that is My will? Can I be enough for you?”
Piper stopped moving and breathing altogether for the space of a few moments. Would she? Could she? Her brain knew the right answer, but her heart didn’t want to acquiesce.
Please don’t ask that of me, she begged.
“Will you give Me your all and allow Me to be your everything?” The voice demanded an answer, but was still gentle. He Himself had even given up His Loved One, His own Son. For her. Could she give Him her loved one and trust herself into His hands?
Answering that question felt like falling backward in a trust fall. She’d always hated trust falls. Could she do it now? God’s arms were more trustworthy than anyone else’s. Logic warred with her heart seemingly indefinitely.
Piper took a deep breath and let it out slowly, expelling her doubts, her fears. “Help me surrender, Lord. I surrender. Take my all for I am Yours.”
A few hours later, Piper was reading by Ezra’s bed when a shrill alarm at the bedside went off. Both Piper and Tom jumped out of their seats and looked at each other, mirrored panic on their faces. The door burst open and a nurse rushed in, soon followed by another. One adjusted the displays on the monitor while the other paged the doctor before asking them to leave. Piper started to argue, but Tom just gripped her elbow and gently led her out the door. They found seats in a small, nearly empty waiting area. Instead of sitting, Tom paced the room like a caged animal, tension filling the air. Piper watched him, her thoughts running faster than his footsteps.
One, two, three, four, turn.
One, two, three, back.
And repeat. Finally, he took a deep breath and sat in the chair next to her, taking her hands and bowing his head. He started to pray. Piper wanted to join in, but the words stuck in her throat. Her heart cried out instead, internally voicing her greatest fears. Soon a blanket of peace covered her, assuring her she was still in God’s arms. As was Ezra. And Tom.
What seemed like hours later, the doctor finally stepped into the room and strode over to them. “He’s fine,” he reassured as he took a seat next to them. “Although it may not have seemed like it, this was a good thing. Ezra’s heart rate accelerated, causing the alarm to go off. The likely cause was excitement or agitation. Could have been a reaction to pain—we haven’t been giving him a ton of pain meds as I didn’t want to add to his non-reactionary state—or to your voices, perhaps. Either way, this was a good thing,” he reiterated. “It means he could possibly be on his way to consciousness. We’ll know more in the next couple of hours, hopefully.”
Piper exhaled, seemingly for the first time in days. She felt like she’d been on the edge of her seat, holding her breath for a bit of hope. And here it was. She felt lighter as she thanked the doctor. She turned to Tom with the first real—though shaky—smile in what felt like a long time. He clutched her tightly, whispering into her hair. “It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay.”
“It’s going to be okay.”
H e was swimming. In a black sea of nothingness. He couldn’t see anything, feel anything. He heard faint voices, but couldn’t make them out. He felt detached from reality, living in a foreign universe in outer space. He thought about Piper. Was she okay? Something had happened, he knew, but he didn’t know what. Everything was foggy, shrouded by an opaque mist. Was she worried about him? Where was he, anyway? If he knew, he’d be able to find a way back to her.
Back to light. Reality.
Life.
Despair crashed over him. He was failing again now. He didn’t know how, but he was. He’d always been a failure. He didn’t save his mom . . . was this his punishment? That didn’t fit with the picture of a loving God, but . . . Was this hell? He thought hell would be hot, fiery. But this was dark, and cold, actually. . . .
A gentle voice floated through his head as he drifted off again. “I’ve prepared a beautiful place for you. But it is not yet your time. You have done well, My faithful servant, and I have much more for you to do.”
“But Lord,” he protested, feeling his utter unworthiness. “I can’t. I’ve failed You again and again. You can’t possibly use me.”
“In your unworthiness is where you have worth. My power works through you, My strength is made perfect in your weakness. You have given Me your heart and your best; that is all I ask.”
The words washed through his brain, rolling over and over and echoing off the corridors of his mind like waves on the shore. He wanted to hold onto this beautiful moment, those beautiful words, but he felt himself drifting again, like an unmoored boat.
The morning ticked by as slowly as usual. Tyler dropped by before work. A new kind of impatience welled up in Piper. She missed Ezra. She’d fully committed him to God now, whether he lived or died, so she tried to stem her impatience. Piper and Tom had just finished what had become their daily prayer time around Ezra’s bed when something caught Piper’s eye.
His hand. It moved. Barely, but it was more than before. She glanced at Tom and saw he had seen it too. Piper reached for Ezra’s hand, taking it gently in her own.
“Ezra?” she called. “Ez, it’s me, Piper.” No response . . . but then his dark eyelashes fluttered against the contrast of his pale face before slowly opening. He groaned as if pulling himself from a deep well, startling both her and Tom. Then he blinked up at her before his eyes shifted to Tom’s face hovering on the other side of the bed.
Then he smiled.
“Hey,” he said before his eyes flickered shut again. Piper wanted to laugh with joy, but it came out more as a sob. She noted tears in Tom’s eyes as well.
Ezra’s eyes opened again and this time his gaze was steadier. “Why’s everyone crying? What happened anyway?” He shifted slightly, then moaned and clutched a hand to his chest, hesitantly sucking in a breath. Tom moved to press the nurse call button.
“Hey, shh . . .” Piper laid her palm on his chest to make him hold still. “You were in a car accident. You broke a few ribs and have been in a coma for five days.”
A frown flitted across his face. “Oh.” He looked at her again. “Why are you crying?” His tone was gently reproachful and he reached up a hand towards her face, but it was shaky. She grabbed it and clasped it against her cheek instead.
He was back. And he remembered. More tears fell as she silently praised God.
“I’m happy, Ez. I was so scared . . .” Her voice hitched. “I love you, Ezra Bryant.” She pressed a kiss to his forehead and pulled away, running her fingers gently over the neatly healing cuts on his face.
He grinned—oh, that grin. Weak, but the same grin nonetheless. “Hey, if I get this kind of treatment, it might be in my best interest to be in a coma again.”
“Ezra!” She gave him a mock glare, but it failed. She couldn’t even pretend to be mad at him right now. “Don’t you dare do that again, do you hear me?”
Smiling gently, he minutely tightened his grip on her fingers. “Yes, ma’am,” he whispered.
“Well, Ezra, you gave your family and friends quite a scare there. How are you feeling?” The doctor gently thumbed open Ezra’s eyelids and examined his eyes with a penlight. They watered as the bright light sent a sharp pain ricocheting through his skull.
“Not to sound cliché, but kinda like I got hit by a Mack truck.”
The man chuckled and pocketed the penlight. “Well, almost. It was a Dodge, I believe. Feel like you can sit up a bit?” Ezra nodded and the doctor pressed a button, the bed tilting to bring him semi-upright. Ezra blinked and clenched his teeth against the massive headrush and pain in his ribs, barely suppressing a groan. Little dwarves with not-so-little jackhammers were pounding away inside his skull and every breath sent agony through his rib cage.
“Now how’s the pain?” the doctor asked.
“Fine,” Ezra gritted out, very aware of his dad and Piper looking concernedly on in the background. Dr. Michaeles raised his brows and made a note on his clipboard. “Right. We’ll get some pain meds running through your veins again and you’ll feel much better.”
Ezra was too tired to respond with a sarcastic remark. After poking and prodding Ezra’s ribs and the bruises on his face, the doctor left with the admonition to take it easy. As if Ezra had the strength or willpo
wer to do anything but. He said they would take one more brain scan to make sure all was as it should be and keep him for observation for another day or two. Then he could go home.
Within minutes of the nurse inserting the medication into his IV, Ezra felt like he was floating again and the pain was blissfully absent. Sweet relief. Then his dad and Piper were at his side again, his dad’s arm around her shoulders. Ezra smiled tiredly and reached up. His fiancée took his hand. “Take care of my girl, Dad,” he said before his eyes slid shut of their own volition.
“Oh, I have been,” Tom said, a smile in his voice.
Tom’s arm tightened around her shoulders and she smiled, her hand still holding Ezra’s. His girl. She was God’s girl, then Ezra’s. And she felt blissfully content. All was right with the world. Thank you for answering our prayers, Father, she prayed silently.
She and Tom stood at the bedside a moment more. Ezra was battered and bruised, and oh so weak, but he was here. Suddenly his eyes fluttered open again and fixated on her face. “Piper, please marry me.” His voice was already groggy and slightly slurred.
A jolt of alarm shot through her. Had he forgotten? She gave a nervous giggle. “Of course. But we did this once already. Did you forget?”
He smiled and closed his eyes again. “Nope. Just checking.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it, clinging tightly to it with both hands as his breathing steadied in sleep.
Piper fought tears again. She knew this man loved her with all his heart. What more could she ask for? Tom brought her a chair so she didn’t have to remove her hand. Soon, she fell asleep too, head pillowed on the edge of the bed, her hand encased in her beloved’s as she dreamed of the future.
T he next forty-eight hours passed quickly, to Ezra’s relief. He hated being sick and he hated being the center of attention. His dad insisted Ezra stay with him until he was fully healed, and he agreed. He knew head injuries weren’t to be messed with. Not to mention the mere act of breathing still felt like being stabbed with tiny swords.
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