by M. S. Parker
“It’s not—”
“What the fuck ever,” he said, his laugh bitter and harsh. His shoulders hunched forward. There was none of the arrogant swagger that I’d come to associate with Edward and Cody’s younger brother.
“Cody was only there because of me. You left your party early because of me. It’s my fucking fault.” He spun away and moved to the window, staring outside. “I swear…if he dies, I don’t know if I’ll be able to live with myself. If he doesn’t wake up…” His voice cracked and he ran his hands through his hair. His shoulders strained against the material of his wrinkled shirt as he bent down and braced his hands on the windowsill. “When I heard about the wreck, heard that both you and Cody were involved...I swear, Gabriella. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself. I’m so…”
A spasm wracked through him.
Unable to stand his pain anymore, I wheeled myself around the foot of the bed. “Flynn.”
He tensed at the sound of my voice and shoved away from the window, staring at me. I froze. The impact of his haunted eyes hit me hard enough for me to feel the breath go out of me.
“Look at you,” Flynn said, flinging a hand in my direction. “You’re bruised all over. You’ve got cracked ribs. You’re in a wheelchair—”
“I’m in a wheelchair because I get tired too easily. My ribs barely hurt and the doctors said they’ll be completely healed in another month or so. I’ll be fine.” Frustration and exhaustion had my accent popping back up and just then, I was too tired to care. Or maybe I was tired of hiding it.
“You wouldn’t be in a wheelchair if it wasn’t for me! Your ribs wouldn’t need to heal.” He spun toward his brother, his face twisted in torment. “He wouldn’t be there if it wasn’t for me! His arm broken so badly that they don’t know if he’ll be able to use it right again.”
I didn’t know how to help him, what to say to him. So, I said the only thing I could. I repeated what Edward had told me. “None of it would have happened if the moron behind the wheel of the truck had paid attention. If we have to blame someone, we can blame him.” I paused to let that sink in before I made my tone more firm. “Now…why don’t you stop feeling sorry for yourself and talk to your brother?”
He flinched as if I’d slapped him.
I forced myself not to look away or apologize. I knew he was hurting. But this wouldn’t help Cody, and while I hated Flynn hurting, Cody was my top concern.
“I heard them talking to me when I was…” I took a deep breath, then shoved the words out. “When I was in the coma. I heard people. He can hear you. People need to talk to him. It could help him come back.”
***
People need to talk to him.
As the aide pushed me down the hall, I reminded myself of what I’d told Flynn yesterday.
Kendra hadn’t been able to come in today. She’d taken a lot of time off over the past two weeks and I’d assured her that I understood. Honestly, she’d been almost hovering since I woke up. I’d just gotten off the phone with Edward. He’d told me he would be in that afternoon, hopefully in time for me to be discharged. But he wasn’t here now and I wasn’t going to sit in my room and twiddle my thumbs.
A few well-placed questions had turned up the information that Cody’s parents usually arrived around ten. It was just before nine and I was going to spend some time talking to Cody. Flynn had talked to him for nearly thirty minutes yesterday before Kendra had come in and taken me back to my room.
I’d spend whatever time I could today doing the same. Edward, Kendra, my parents, my sister, my brother...all of them had all guided me through that dark period. I didn’t want Cody alone in the darkness. I knew Edward would talk to him and Flynn would now. But his parents? Would they talk to him? Or just at him, over him, about him?
“You ring when you get too tired,” the aide said. Her name was Sarah and she was a bright, perky woman. She seemed to have boundless energy and was always smiling. Just looking at her made me tired, but I nodded and smiled.
As she walked away, I reached for Cody’s hand.
“Hey there, gorgeous. It’s Gabs. So, exactly what is it that you’re dreaming about that’s keeping you from coming back to us?” I managed to inject a little bit of humor, even though I wanted to cry.
There was no response. Not physically and not on the monitors, but I didn’t let that stop me.
“Okay, sleeping beauty. If you won’t talk, I will.”
And so I did.
***
I lost track of time.
Caught up in a story about how Catherine and I had played a prank on Suzanne when we were growing up, I didn’t realize it was ten until I heard a furious voice.
“What are you doing in here?”
Instinctively, I squeezed Cody’s hand as I turned my head. Meeting Claire’s gaze, I said, “I’m talking to him.”
“He’s in a coma. Thanks to you.”
Blood rushed to my cheeks. I couldn’t stop it, but I didn’t let her see that she’d all but sucker-punched me. I kept my voice even. “No, it’s thanks to the man who hit us. I guess you didn’t speak with the police, but I’m happy to clarify.” I didn’t let go of Cody’s hand, gaining strength just from his presence. “I’ll clarify something else too. Being in a coma doesn’t mean he can’t hear you. Trust me, I’ve been there. I know.”
Albert McCreary, Claire’s second husband and Flynn’s father, stood just behind Claire, a silent presence. He reached up and rested a hand on her shoulder, watching me with curiously unreadable eyes. In the time I’d known him, I’d gotten the impression that he didn’t have much of a personality of his own, but rather just reflected his wife’s abrasive nature.
“I don’t want you in here,” Claire said, her voice shaking.
“Fine. I’ll go.” I pushed the call button for the nurse with my free hand and looked back to Cody. “I’ll come back and visit you when I can, Cody. I’m not kidding, buddy. You need to wake—”
“You will not come back,” Claire said. Her eyes, so like Edward’s in their ice blue color, shone with a fury I’d never seen in my fiancé’s eyes.
I barely noticed. Staring at his hand, I whispered, “Cody?”
He squeezed, weakly. For the second time.
And one of the monitors made a beeping sound. A new beeping sound.
Without thinking twice, I grabbed the panic button. Nurses came rushing in and I whipped my head around. “I think he’s waking up!”
***
It was Edward who got me back into Cody’s room later that day.
Coma patients don’t just wake up. It’s not like they hear an alarm clock and just pop open their eyes and jump out of bed. I knew that from the time I’d been in a coma, but it was a bit different seeing it from the other side.
That squeeze of my hand and beep on the monitors had been a sign of increased brain activity, the nurses had told us, and throughout the afternoon, there were other signs. I was discharged at some point, but I didn’t leave. Not yet. Edward wanted to take me home, but I wanted to be there, wanted to see Cody in the new rooms he’d been moved to as soon as he’d started improving.
I was so anxious that I wasn’t even fazed when Flynn sank down on the couch next to me. We were in what must have been the penthouse of hospital suites, because it more closely resembled a top notch hotel room than anything I’d ever seen. Even the nurses were dressed differently here. The décor was upscale and elegant.
The couch was so comfortable, I felt myself drifting off to sleep. That happened all too often. Even the irregular beeps from the machines didn’t disturb me.
The wreck.
We’d been in the wreck.
And Cody was…
“Gabs…you…sorry…”
No, I tried to say. Not you…
A hand touched my shoulder, quick and light. Then I heard Flynn speaking, “Gabriella.”
Hunching my shoulder, I tried to escape the sound. Sleep. I was so tired.
“Tennessee.
” He was louder now. So were other people.
I cracked one eye open and heard a hysterical sobbing.
I jerked awake. “What…Cody!”
Flynn stood in front of me, one hand outstretched. “He’s awake.”
“What!” I lurched upright and fell against him, off-balance and weak.
He steadied me. A moment later, though, Edward was there. I didn’t think it was my imagination that Flynn’s hands lingered. I knew it wasn’t my imagination that the crazy racing of my heart began to slow when I went from Flynn’s steadying embrace to Edward’s.
But then it was all forgotten in a rush of tears and emotion as Edward guided me over to see Cody. He didn’t look anywhere close to healthy, but his beautiful blue eyes were open and clear.
Claire glared at me and Cody grumbled, “Leave it alone, Mom.” He cracked a grin as he looked up at me. “You. I heard you.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Sleeping beauty?”
I managed to laugh as I sank down into the chair Flynn dragged over to the side of the bed. I grabbed Cody’s hand and tears sprung to my eyes when his hand squeezed mine. It lacked the strength I’d always taken for granted, but it was solid and warm.
“Sorry, Cody. But I was too busy feeling like shit to find a prince to kiss you awake.”
The sound of him laughing was the sweetest thing I’d heard in a long, long time.
Chapter 19
I went home.
With Cody awake, it wasn’t exactly where I wanted to be, but he didn’t need me there all the time.
The venom between Claire and I wasn’t going anywhere and I could respect that she had more of a right to be there as his mother than I did as his friend. Besides, I was tired and even the short period of sitting by his side was enough to exhaust me. The medicine the doctors had given me for my ribs kept the pain at a dull ache, but I still needed to take it easy. I could’ve asked for something stronger, and I knew if Edward had known I had any pain at all, he would’ve asked for me, but I didn’t want anything that would make my head fuzzy.
By the time Edward had me settled in at home, it was almost nine and although he tried to insist I eat, all I wanted to do was sleep. That was the extent of my first night at home after my aborted wedding.
I came home and fell asleep in the wide, fat armchair in front of the fire. I had vague memories of Edward coming over to pick me up and vague memories of him brushing a kiss across my forehead sometime later.
Then I woke up.
Bright sunlight shone into my eyes and I stared dumbly at the clock for a good five minutes before I realized it was after nine in the morning. I’d slept all through the night. I had no more sat up in bed when there was a knock at the door.
“Miss Gabriella?” a tentative voice called out.
“Come in.” I brushed my hair back as one of the servants, dressed in black, came in, pushing a cart.
“Mr. Edward wanted to make sure you had a good breakfast. Are you hungry?”
My stomach grumbled at the smell of bacon and eggs. With a laugh, I put a hand over it and said, “Yeah, I guess I can eat.”
She smiled approvingly, but when I went to get up, she shooed me back onto the bed. “No, no…you sit!”
“I’m able to get up,” I pointed out mildly.
“You can get up, but there’s no need.” She brought the cart closer and lifted a lid, revealing an elegant tray. “After your troubles, why not enjoy breakfast in bed?”
Put like that, why not? Besides, the pillows behind my back felt better than a chair would. The cracks in my ribcage were at the back, close to my spine. It matched up with the lump on the back of my head that had prompted them to put me in a coma.
I sighed and let her bring me the tray, but when she went to doctor my coffee, I covered it with a hand. “I can do it,” I said firmly.
She huffed out a little breath like I’d offended her. I just waited. If I was going to be the mistress of the house, they’d have to learn to accept my orders.
Shaking her head, she backed away and went around straightening things that didn’t need to be straightened.
The room was nearly immaculate, but I had a feeling she’d been tasked with watching me. Glumly, I tried to remember the last time I’d had a babysitter. My parents had pretty much let me handle myself from the time I was fourteen on, and usually with both Jackson and Jennifer to look after too. But Edward?
He treated me like a china doll.
Still, I was tired and it was nice to be pampered after everything that had happened, right? It wasn’t like when I’d had the doctors and nurses constantly watching me.
The food smelled wonderful, but I was only able to eat a few bites of everything before I just couldn’t eat anymore. My appetite had been off ever since I’d woken up in the hospital. The doctor and nurses had assured me it was normal, although I’d assumed it was hospital food. Even though the meal laid in front of me was delicious, I still couldn’t eat more than a few bites.
Pressing a hand to my stomach, I looked over at the lady hovering nearby. With a faint smile, I said, “I’m sorry. I can’t remember your name.”
“It’s Helen, Miss Gabriella.”
“Call me Gabriella, please. Or Gabby. Just…no miss.”
She looked away. “I’m…well, it’s only considered appropriate. Won’t you eat some more?”
“I’m full, Helen. I want to take a shower and get out of this bed.” Rolling my eyes, I said, “I’ve spent enough time in bed.”
She looked like she wanted to argue, but thankfully, she didn’t. Apparently, that wouldn’t be appropriate either.
As she wheeled the cart out, I sat on the edge of the bed, waiting until I knew my legs were going to hold. Every day that passed left me feeling stronger and steadier, but there were still times when I’d go to stand up and my legs would be like Jell-O, my bones and muscles going to nothing so much as butter.
Today, though, I managed to stand up without needing to use anything to pull myself up or steady myself. There was only a twinge in my ribs before it settled back to the normal throbbing.
“Victory,” I muttered.
“Miss?”
The sound of Helen’s voice had me swaying and I flung out a hand, grabbing the column of the four-poster bed. She stood in the doorway, hands clasped behind her back.
“Nothing. Ah…I don’t need anything. You can…well, don’t you have other things to do than worry about me?” I hoped it hadn’t sounded as harsh to her as it had to my ears, but I hated having people hover over me. I hated it with a passion. I hadn’t even liked it when I’d been sick as a kid.
“Mr. Edward asked that I watch over you today and be there if you needed me.”
Suppressing the sigh, I pushed a hand through my tangled hair. “Right now, I don’t. The only thing I need is a shower. I’ll be downstairs in a bit and you can…”
Helen averted her face.
“Let me guess. Edward pretty much insisted you stay close by.”
She gave a small dip of her head, but still didn’t look at me.
“Fine. There are chairs out in the hall. You can wait out there. Close by is open to interpretation and I think you and I can both agree that you’ve satisfied your responsibilities as long as you’re close enough to hear me if I call your name.” Which I won’t, I thought stubbornly.
Helen hesitated, but she must have seen something on my face. Maybe she understood that I could take care of myself. She looked like a woman who did pretty much the same thing when she wasn’t taking care of other people. Finally, she nodded and disappeared from my sight.
I felt oddly vulnerable as I moved into the bathroom.
I’d been so ready to come home so I could finally have some privacy, but it looked like that would only happen if I forced the issue.
***
I came out of the shower feeling exhausted but accomplished. Wrapped in my warm, fluffy robe, I saw Helen out of the corner of my eye as she peeked into the bedroom. When she disappea
red quickly, I pretended not to notice.
Dollars to donuts said she’d planted a chair close to my door. But I was okay with that. I at least had the illusion of privacy. Sometimes a person just had to take what they could get.
With my ribs throbbing, I tugged open the belt of my robe, coming to a stop in front of my closet. Soft clothes. I needed soft, smooth clothes. Nothing with a loose weave that would catch on my healing wounds and nothing that would rub against me either.
Robe hanging open, I tugged open the closet and froze.
It was a long, elegant column of silver. Not as formal as a traditional gown, yet lovely enough that I would have felt comfortable dancing with Edward as he stood before me in a tux.
My wedding gown.
Not the one I’d bought on that crazy trip out shopping with Kendra, but the one I’d picked up in a rush the afternoon before...the accident. It wasn’t the fairy tale dress. This was the one that said, I’m a woman. I’ll do adult things even if it kills me. But it said those words with a smile and a swing of her hips.
I’d bought that dress to marry Edward in an intimate ceremony, something that would bind us together in front of a small gathering of friends and family. The wedding that was supposed to be only mine, no taking over from Claire. It had been Edward’s compromise. And it had all been a waste. We’d be getting married in October after all.
I should tell Edward thanks, I thought bitterly. If it hadn’t been for his insistence, I would have cancelled all of the October plans once we’d decided to have a small ceremony, even though I’d known it would piss Claire off. But I hadn’t done it.
Reaching out, I stroked a hand down the shimmering silver. It was surreal, standing here, a single woman who should have been married. Except for the fact that I’d decided to leave my bachelorette party early. I didn’t feel married. Would that have changed if we’d exchanged our vows? Would I have felt more like Mrs. Gabriella Bouvier if we’d done something so simple as saying I do? Did that really make that big a difference? Two simple words?