Once inside, I likely wouldn’t be able to tell him everything I wanted to say. The words I couldn’t form felt like they were choking me.
I was breaking down and could hardly talk. I managed to say, “You’d better be okay, because I can’t live without you.”
Blinding tears filled my eyes. I had one job—to be strong for him—and I had totally failed.
“When I’m in there, I want you to think about all the things we have to look forward to this year, like planning our other wedding. Just focus on the good and then every hour that passes, we’ll be closer to having this behind us.”
I nodded as if it were really possible to look forward to anything in this moment.
He went on, “Nothing is gonna happen, okay? But God forbid, if something did, I need you to know that what I said that one time about not wanting you to ever move on, that was irresponsible. I would want you to move on and be happy.”
I shook my head profusely. “I can’t have this conversation, Damien.”
“Yes, you can, because nothing’s gonna happen, but I just need to say this. Please.”
“Alright.”
“I don’t want you to stay alone or feel guilty for moving on someday if something ever does happen to me.”
I nodded just to make him feel better, but I knew deep in my heart, that there would be no moving on if something ever happened to Damien. It was that kind of love. The once-in-a-lifetime kind. The kind that his mother and father had. The kind that I couldn’t have with Elec or anyone else, because it would have only been possible with Damien.
“You’re my soulmate, Damien. My fighter. Have you ever heard that song, The Fighter? The Keith Urban one?”
“I’ve heard it come on the radio. It reminds me of us,” he said.
It shouldn’t have surprised me that he’d picked up on that, too. We were connected that way.
He nudged his head. “Let’s go. Let’s get this shit over with. I have a wife and dogs to get back to.”
“Okay. Let’s do it.”
Inside, Dr. Tuscano addressed any last minute concerns we had.
“So, we’re clear on everything that’s gonna happen? The incision will be made down the center of Damien’s chest. The cut muscle will eventually heal on its own. We use a heart-lung machine during the procedure, which helps protect the other organs while the heart is stopped. Once the operation is over, Damien’s heart will start beating on its own again with no problems.”
The doctor noticed Tyler and Damien’s mother waiting outside the door and waved them in. They looked just as nervous as I did. Damien was being stronger than all of us.
Dr. Tuscano finished answering some questions that Monica had before he said, “Surgery should take about five to six hours. Don’t be alarmed if no one comes and updates you. We typically need full surgical staff to remain in the operating room for this procedure.”
Damien hugged Tyler and kissed his mother. They were just about to leave to allow us a moment alone when Damien called after his brother.
“Dude, keep Mom and my wife sane out there. I’m counting on you.”
“You got it, man.”
After the door closed, Damien whispered, “By the way, when I said you should move on with another man, that doesn’t include Tyler. I’d find a way to come back from the dead to castrate him if he ever made a move on you.”
He’d managed to make me laugh a little. “Understood.”
After a long silence, there wasn’t anything left for him to say except, “I love you.”
“I love you so much.”
“Be strong for me, okay?”
“Okay.”
Dr. Tuscano was all suited up when he came in with a staff to wheel Damien out. “Ready?”
Damien squeezed my hand one last time before letting it go. “Yep.”
As they took him out of the room and down the hall to the operating room, I started to feel weak, like my legs were going to give way. Just when it seemed like I was going to collapse, I felt Tyler’s hands on my arms, gripping them and essentially holding me up.
“He’s gonna be okay.”
I just kept shaking my head, desperately trying to convince myself of that. “I know.”
He had to be.
***
The first hour was the hardest. It went by painfully slow. As much as Damien had asked Tyler to look after us, it seemed Ty was just as nervous as we were and needed us just as much as we needed him.
Damien clearly underestimated how hard this would be for his brother, who’d been his closest confidante long before I ever came into the picture.
Tyler held my left hand and Monica held my right. Damien was our common denominator, the person each of us loved most in this life.
At one point, Tyler looked down at my ring. “Holy shit. He wasn’t kidding when he said he spent a fortune on that thing.”
Staring down at my rock, I agreed. “He’s crazy.”
Monica chimed in, “No, he’s not. He just loves you so much.” She sighed. “Congratulations. I know it was supposed to be a secret, but he told me everything. I’m looking forward to being there for the big one.”
“We didn’t mean to exclude anyone.”
“I know that. I’m not trying to make you feel guilty. I’m so happy you did it the way you did.”
“Thank you.”
Tyler grinned. “I’ll never forget the first day he told me about you. He said, ‘Ty, there’s this girl who moved in next door. She’s quirky, a little fucked-up in the head, can’t get out of her own way, but she’s beautiful, like the most natural beauty you’ve ever seen and the realest person you’ll ever meet. She came to complain about the dogs, and all I wanted to do was kiss her senseless.”
“He said that?”
“He did.”
Once the somber first hour of waiting passed, the mood changed drastically. It all started with a pizza.
A deliveryman showed up to the waiting area.
“I have a pizza order from Damien?”
“Damien couldn’t be ordering pizza. He’s in surgery,” I told him.
“Nope. He scheduled a delivery.”
“When did he call?”
“I don’t know. Anyway, I’m supposed to bring the pizza here and give it to Chelsea with this note.” He handed it to me.
“Thank you.”
The pizza box felt hot on my lap. The smell of the cheese and sauce reminded me that I hadn’t eaten anything. I ripped off the paper that was taped to the top and read it.
It’s not as good as mine, but I’m a little busy at the moment and couldn’t bake you one. So, this will have to do. I knew you wouldn’t eat unless I brought it to you.
—D
If we thought that was the only waiting room surprise, we were wrong. The next hour, came a ginormous fruit bouquet from Edible Arrangements along with a note.
I know my mother probably didn’t touch the pizza. She’ll claim to be too upset to eat, but she’s never seen a chocolate-covered strawberry she could refuse.
He was right. Monica had refused the pizza but ended up devouring the strawberries.
The third hour brought the biggest surprise of all. In walked our tenant, Gary, who was apparently still slaving away as a personal assistant to Damien in lieu of paying rent. He was leading the Double Ds on two leashes into the waiting room.
“They let the dogs in here?” I smiled.
Gary shrugged. “I guess? No one said anything.”
Letting them lick my face, I said, “I can’t believe they’re here.”
“Damien thought it would cheer you up to see them.”
“He was totally right.”
Gary handed me a wrapped gift. “He also wanted me to give you this.”
“Where is it from?”
“I have no idea. He gave it to me already wrapped like this.”
I opened it but had to quickly shield the contents from Tyler and Monica. It was a ménage book titled, Three Times A Lady
. Of course, there was a note.
I figured if anything could take your mind off me going under the knife, this would be it. Still a few hours to go. Happy reading.
Gary handed me one more item. “He also gave me this envelope but said you can’t open it until the fifth hour.”
I took it. “Okay, thank you.”
When the final hour rolled around, I opened the envelope. It was a simple note.
It’s almost done. I know you must be exhausted and scared, waiting for me to get out. Believe me, no one wants to get out of there more than me. I just wanted to remind you that even though a machine might be taking over my heart right now, it’s still only beating for you. I love you. Kiss my mother for me. Do NOT kiss Tyler. See you soon.
The expected six hours had come and gone, and there was still no word from the doctor. Even though Damien’s tactics had worked to seriously calm us down up until now, I was starting to get really nervous again.
Really nervous.
Panicked.
What could be taking so long?
I just wanted so desperately to see him.
I turned to Tyler. “Do you think everything is okay?”
“I’m sure it is. The doctor said it could go over the six hours.”
“I just wish someone would come out to give us an update, let us know that everything is going as expected.”
Monica was quiet and just took my hand again. The mood was quickly dampening with each excruciating minute that passed. It seemed like forever since I’d touched him or heard his voice.
Finally, thirty minutes later, Dr. Tuscano appeared, walking down the hall toward us. My heart beat faster with each step he took closer. The three of us stood up.
He pulled down his mask and said, “Surgery went well.”
It felt like someone had released a thousand-ton rock off of my chest.
“The procedure turned out to be a bit more complex than we anticipated, which is why it took a little longer, but we were successful in doing what we needed to. He’s in recovery right now. I’ve asked a nurse to come out in just a little bit to escort one of you at a time to see him. He’ll be in recovery for a while before they move him into the intensive care unit.”
“Thank you so much, Dr. Tuscano, for everything.”
“It’s my pleasure. Damien is one of my favorite patients. I’m glad we finally decided to do this. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you a lot in the coming weeks during the post-operative period. You have my cell phone number and email if you have any questions at all.”
“Yes. Thank you.”
After he walked away, the three of us embraced in collective relief. A nurse approached soon after, and Monica and Tyler agreed that I should get to see him first.
My heart nearly skipped a beat at the sight of Damien sleeping in the recovery room. There was a tube coming out of his chest that seemed to be draining fluid. A nurse was monitoring his heart rate.
“Is he awake?”
“The anesthesia is still wearing off, but he woke up fine. He seems to be dozing off again, though,” she said.
I waited patiently for him to open his eyes. When his eyelids began to flutter, I said, “Baby, it’s me…Chelsea. I’m here with you now. You’re fine. You made it through. We have it behind us.”
Damien blinked repeatedly and seemed disoriented. It was hard to see my strong man in such a vulnerable state.
I just kept talking. “Welcome back to the living. You’re gonna be okay.”
“Chelsea,” he whispered.
Thank God.
“Yes, baby, it’s me. And your mom and Tyler are here, too. We’re so happy you’re out.”
He repeated, “Chelsea…”
“Yes. I’m here. I love you.”
“Where is she?”
“Your mom? She’s just down the hall. She’ll be coming in soon.”
“No.”
“What?”
“Where is…” He hesitated.
“Where is who?”
“Where’s our baby?”
“Our baby?”
“Where’s our baby?” He repeated. “I saw her. Where is she?”
“We…we don’t have one. There is no baby.”
He just stared at me, looking confused until his eyes closed again. I didn’t know what to make of it and concluded that he was just delusional from all of the medication.
***
A few hours later, Damien was moved into the intensive care unit. His clarity had returned, and he no longer mentioned anything about a baby. He probably had no recollection of it. Still, hearing him ask to see our baby—a baby we would never have—was definitely painful. It made me wonder whether on some subconscious level, Damien was longing for a child more than I thought.
“Did you receive any special deliveries while I was under?”
“Oh, we sure did. You’re very clever.”
“The next couple of months are gonna suck,” he groaned.
“Why?”
“That’s how long it’s supposed to take for a full recovery.”
“I’ll be your private nurse. Don’t worry.”
“Mom, block your ears.” Damien spoke in a low voice, “That’s not gonna work. I can’t have you looking all cute and tending to me when we can’t have sex for at least three weeks. I’m gonna end up breaking the rules, and if I end up dead…”
“It’ll be all my fault?”
“No. I was gonna say, it will all be worth it.”
“We’ll figure something out, so that doesn’t have to happen.”
“I just want to go home.”
“I know. I just want you home, too.”
***
Damien was approved to be released after five days. There were no surprises or complications as far as his prognosis was concerned. We were so grateful to God that we would finally be able to slowly but surely move on with our lives.
It felt like I could finally breathe after months of worry.
That feeling wouldn’t last.
A few weeks into Damien’s recovery at home, one of my biggest fears would come true.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
GOD’S PLAN
“Notice how they never show these pretty boy hosts doing any work for more than a few seconds. How much money you want to bet they’re not really doing shit when the camera stops rolling?”
As Damien lay on the couch watching a home improvement channel with his big feet on my lap, I stared at the red line that ran down the middle of his otherwise flawless, rock-hard chest. The scar was a permanent reminder of the risk he took for us.
I knew he’d made the decision to have the operation, not only to better his quality of life, but also so that he and I could have a better chance at a longer life together. The scar was also a constant reminder of the fragility of life.
I had to leave the room. Whenever I got overly emotional, I was afraid he would be able to see right through me. I couldn’t let him see that something was seriously wrong. I wasn’t ready to face it myself, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to put him through any kind of stress over nothing—over speculation.
Another day…another denial.
My period was now officially three weeks late. Even though I’d never missed a cycle in my life before, I refused to believe that could mean I was pregnant. I wouldn’t take a test, because I was too scared of the consequences, unable to even fathom that possibility, unable to fathom what Damien’s reaction would be. So, I just kept letting the days pass.
Not to mention he was still in a fragile state. He was only just beginning to get back to normal, certainly nowhere near one hundred percent. I couldn’t risk putting him under any kind of unnecessary stress. There was still a chance it was nothing. I’d read that stress could potentially delay a menstrual cycle. I’d been under so much stress in the weeks before his surgery that it was easy to see how that could have technically happened. I was on the pill, which was ninety-nine percent effective.
Still, as m
uch as I tried to talk to myself, the not knowing was starting to eat away at me.
“Hey. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit. Come here.” He moved closer to me. “Sit down right here.” Pointing to the floor in front of him, he positioned my body between his legs and began to massage my shoulders. “Has this been too much for you?”
“What?”
“Having to take care of me while I recover?”
I looked behind to face him. “Of course not. It’s been my pleasure to take care of you. Don’t ever think that.”
He dug the base of his palms deeper into my muscles pressing in a circular motion. “What’s going on with you, then?”
“I think the stress of the past month is just catching up with me. Everything is okay,” I lied.
After a half-hour of sitting in the same position, I lifted myself off the ground. “You know what I just remembered? We are all out of shredded cheese. I was going to make tacos tonight. I’m gonna head to the store and get some.”
“Alright.”
I left the apartment in a hurry.
Once around the corner, I leaned against the side of the building and took a deep breath, taking out my cell phone and praying that Jade picked up. I’d told her about my late period earlier in the week.
When she answered, I said, “Oh, thank God.”
“Is everything okay?”
“I think I’m having a panic attack.”
“Okay, calm down. I’m here. Where are you?”
“I was sitting down watching TV with Damien, and I had to get out of the house. He’s starting to catch on that something is off with me.”
“Listen. You need to do a test. I know that you don’t want to know, but you need to grow some balls and do it. Not knowing is the problem right now.”
“Okay. I’m out now. I’ll buy a test and do it. I told Damien I was going to the grocery store.”
“I’ll stay on the phone with you. Can you use a public bathroom?”
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