by Lori L. Otto
“Love ya, Em.” His voice is strained, as if the air has been stolen from his lungs. I smile, recognizing that he has the same effect on me. He draws another deep breath, one last phrase escaping his lips as he succumbs to sleep. “Hold me.”
I shouldn’t let him sleep, but I can’t fight my own exhaustion any longer. I wrap my arms tightly around him, the sound of his pulse fading quickly as I lose consciousness.
~ * ~
It’s still terribly bright when I open my eyes again. One of my arms is clutching tightly to a pillow, the other in a cast. I wonder when that happened? Nate is no longer next to me, is nowhere to be found. I look around the white room and realize it’s not his room. I’m in a hospital. Bouquets of flowers line a shelf next to the window. Then I realize my leg is also wrapped tightly, restricting any movement. I turn my head to the left to see my brother sleeping in a chair in the corner of the room.
“Chris?” I say, the sound scratchy and foreign. I’m very thirsty. “Chris?” I say louder, and he lifts his head, and then quickly runs to my side.
“Emi,” he cries, relieved. “My god, you’re awake. Emi, how do you feel?”
“I’m thirsty,” I tell him. He picks up a small cup and pours water in it from a pitcher. He finds a straw nearby and places it in the cup, holding it to my lips. I drink it all and ask for more.
“Do you hurt? Are you in pain?” he asks.
“A little,” I tell him. “What happened? Where’s Nate? He was just here.” I survey the room again, still a little startled at my unfamiliar surroundings. “Or I was... there?” We were at his loft... why am I here?
He stares at me silently, looking confused. “You don’t remember?” he asks.
“No,” I laugh, the movement of my muscles causing more pain than I expected. “Where exactly am I?”
“At Methodist General Hospital. In the ICU,” he says, sitting on the bed with me, taking my non-bandaged hand into his.
“And why exactly am I here? I mean, I see the casts, but... what happened?”
“Emi,” he hesitates.
“Did you say ICU?” I interrupt, just now putting meaning to his words.
“You’ve been in a coma... Emi, what do you remember?”
“I remember your engagement party last night... and Nate’s band played for you guys... and then he and I left the party for a few minutes...” My brother didn’t need to know the details... he didn’t need to know that the time Nate and I shared together last night was the most amazing, most satisfying, of my life. That secret was left for me and Nate. I’m sure he wouldn’t want to hear about it anyway.
“And then... there’s a gap in time. I remember waking up next to him this morning. I know there has been an accident... but I can’t remember it. He does, but I don’t... but he said it was bad.”
“What do you mean, Emi? Who remembers?”
“Nate. He said we were lucky. Where is he, anyway?”
“Emi, the party was on Monday,” he tells me.
“Okay... well what day is it now?”
“It’s Thursday, sis. You were in a coma for three days.”
“How did I fall into a coma? It was Nate that wasn’t supposed to sleep, with his concussion. Did something else happen? I mean, where did these casts come from... and where is he?”
My brother shakes his head, the movement so slow and subtle I barely catch it. “Oh, god,” he starts, speaking softly, swallowing audibly.
“What?”
“Emi, I don’t think you’re remembering things... clearly.”
“I know. I can’t remember an accident at all. But Nate says that’s a good thing.” I smile, thankful that my brain has apparently shielded me from something pretty horrible... pretty scary.
“When did you talk to him again?” Chris asks, his eyes begging to understand.
“The morning after the accident. Which I thought was this morning... but I guess not. I’ve apparently slept since then,” I joke with him.
“No, Emi, you were already in the hospital then.”
“When? When was I admitted to the hospital?”
“The night of the accident,” he says.
“No,” I laugh. “Nate and I were at his apartment the next morning. I’m guessing something else happened after that? Was there another accident or something? Why isn’t he here?” I realize he still hasn’t answered that question. Did he fall asleep after all? Was it the concussion? My breathing becomes shallow.
“Emi, you were brought here directly from the accident scene on New Year’s Eve. You’ve been in a coma ever since. We’ve been worried sick.”
“No,” I argue. “I mean, you weren’t there. I think you’re confused. Nate and I were definitely together.”
“Stop, Emi. I’m not confused. I think–” His next intake of air is shaky as his eyes widen and his jaw drops, a look of terror coming over his face. In one quick moment, he grasps the metal railing of the bed tightly with one hand and pushes a button on the wall with the other. “I think we need a nurse,” he says hurriedly.
My brows furrow in an effort to understand his demeanor, but he averts his gaze quickly, pacing nervously, his eyes darting around the room in obvious avoidance of mine.
“I’m fine,” I argue. “Where is Nate?” I ask, demand. He grabs my hand again, squeezing it tightly, as the speed of my breathing increases immeasurably, along with my pulse.
“Emi, do you remember leaving the party that night?”
“Yes, I told you already, I remember that part. We went upstairs to our room,” I tell him, blushing as a flash of our night together fills my vision. “Where is Nate?” I repeat, becoming impatient.
“And do you remember leaving your room? Leaving the hotel, maybe?” A tear falls from his eye. I don’t remember the last time I saw my brother cry.
“No.” I try harder to fill in the increasingly-obvious blanks brought on by the last three days. I remember making love to Nate. I remember it so clearly, so vividly. I remember waking up in his arms the morning after. He was hurt, but he would be okay. I was fine, too. He said there had been an accident. My days are getting messed up... when was this? Whenever that was, I wasn’t in plaster casts like I am now. That morning in his bed, that’s the last memory I have. “Come on, Chris, where’s Nate?” It’s impossible for me to hide the building panic in my voice.
Anxious and determined, I try to sit up quickly, but the tubes tethering me to the bed pull against me, and my sudden movements cease immediately, thwarted by a sharp pain in my good arm and a sickeningly dizzy head rush. I feel Chris putting his hands on my shoulders, steadying me, pushing me carefully back toward the hard and lumpy pillow.
“Emi, calm down,” he says softly. “Just lie down. I’m trying.” He swallows hard. “You both left the hotel, together,” he begins. I close my eyes in an effort to see the events of that night as he talks. Instead, I see Nate smiling beneath me the morning after, his face bathed in the bright, warm sunlight. I sigh as I feel his hand on my thigh, a flash of heat spreading over my body. “You went to the store, do you remember that?” my brother’s voice snaps me back to the present.
“No,” I begin to cry, tears of frustration. “Chris, please, just tell me where Nate is.”
“Emi,” he squeezes my hand tighter and pauses, obviously searching for the right words but clearly not wanting to say them. “God damn it, where is the fucking nurse?”
“What is it, Chris?”
“Emi, I don’t know how to tell you this...”
My chest gets tight.
“I didn’t want to be the one to tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
“Nate is gone, Em,” he blurts quickly. A deafening silence fills the room. His words make no sense to me. I know he’s not gone. I was just with him. It was just the two of us. Maybe my brother just didn’t know he was okay.
“No,” I choke out in disbelief. “No, you’re wrong.”
“Em...”
“I was just wit
h him...” I mumble. “He’s okay.” Why wouldn’t Chris know this?
“No, you weren’t,” he returns. “And he’s not... okay. He’s... not with us... anymore. Oh, Emi,” my brother breaks down, his head bowed to the floor, his tears dropping on my hospital gown.
“He’s at his apartment, Chris, I know he is. Has anyone looked there?”
“He’s not there, Emi,” he says sternly.
“He is there! I was there! I saw him!” I struggle to get up, again wrestling with the tubes and wires and really heavy casts. “Help me out of here. I’ll take you to him.”
“Stop, Emi!” I continue to fight, wishing my fucking arm wasn’t in this fucking cast, keeping me from pulling away from these fucking tethers! Chris walks abruptly to the door and yells down the hallway. “Where is the god damn nurse?!”
“Let me up!”
“Emi, just... don’t move. I don’t know what all those tubes are doing, but if one of those is keeping you alive... fuck,” he sighs. “I can’t lose you, too.” He collapses back on the chair he had been sleeping on, his head in his hands.
“You haven’t lost anyone, though,” I say to him... attempting to sound positive and upbeat, but the rapidity of my heartbeat is telling me that something isn’t quite right.
“We’ve lost Nate,” he sighs, slumped over, sounding annoyed and resigned. “He’s... he’s dead, Emi.”
“No,” I say quickly, trying to erase his words. “He said he’d never leave me, Chris,” I explain through tears that flow freely out of nowhere. “And I know he meant it. He’s not gone. He was just here, with me, in bed.”
“Emi, no. He wasn’t. And it wasn’t his choice to leave you. I’m sure he didn’t want to go,” he attempts to soothe me by sitting down next to me and holding my good hand tightly.
“No, Chris, you don’t understand, he promised he’d never leave!” I sob, loudly, heavily, and he leans over the bed to put his arms around me. “He was just here! He is fine! He has a concussion... some cracked ribs... but he survived!” I try to fill my lungs with air, but the lump in my throat is so big, so painful that I can’t even inhale. “Chris, I can’t breathe,” I cry. “I need Nate.”
“Emi, he’s not here,” he tells me again.
“No, he’s not gone. I need him. I need him, Chris. I can’t live without him. Please get him. I need him.”
Two nurses in scrubs enter the room, and Chris backs away from the bed.
“She said she can’t breathe,” he tells them. “And I think she’s hallucinating or hysterical or something.”
“I’m not... why are you lying!?” I yell at him.
“I don’t know what to do,” he continues to cry, his hands pulling at his hair. One of the nurses ushers him out the door, then returns to my side, restraining me.
He can’t be gone, he can’t be gone, he can’t be gone. I just repeat the words in my head, sure that they will bring him back. Am I dreaming, is this a nightmare? We just made love, we just fell in love. I love him and he loves me. He is not gone.
I close my eyes tightly until I see him here with me again. God, I love you. I reach out for him, trying to touch him, but he seems so distant even though he’s right next to me in his bed. His smile is enough to soothe me, to stop my sobbing... comforted again by my love, I suddenly become very tired and allow myself to sleep, knowing he’s with me.
~ * ~
“Emi?” a woman’s voice wakes me. I peek over at Nate as we exchange smiles. He touches my cheek and nods before I try to roll over to see who’s calling my name.
My head hurts so badly at my efforts, and I decide I don’t want to move, much less open my eyes to let any light in. They well up with tears that immediately fall down my cheeks. Why am I crying? I struggle to figure out where I am. Why is a woman saying my name? Wasn’t I with Nate, in his loft? When I open my eyes to survey my surroundings, I recognize the hospital room and remember the conversation that I had with Chris in this very room.
“Nate?” I ask, looking wildly for him. He was just here. Where could he have gone so quickly?
“He’s not here,” the woman says. I turn my head to finally see who’s talking to me.
“Teresa?” I say. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to visit you.”
“Where did Nate go?” I ask her, not quite awake, feeling his absence immediately.
“Em...”
“He was at his apartment, right? Just like I told Chris he would be... right?”
“No,” she whispers.
“Where’s Chris?” I ask her, suddenly annoyed that she is here with me and not my brother, the only one I’ve told of Nate’s whereabouts. I can’t expect her to know what’s going on. “Where’s my family?”
“Em, do you remember what happened?”
“Sure, Teresa, I remember a lot, but no one wants to fucking believe me. There was an accident, whatever. Nate and I were together after that.”
“But you don’t remember the accident...”
“No, Teresa, I don’t remember,” I snap at her. “I know Chris thinks something horrible happened–” I don’t even allow my brain to go there– “but he’s wrong.” I tell her, my voice becoming louder. “What day is it?” I ask her.
“It’s Friday, Emi,” she says, shifting uncomfortably on the bed next to me. “Emi, I’m so sorry,” she says, starting to cry. “Chris is right.”
“He’s not,” I argue, giving no credence to her statement. “Nate has been here, hasn’t he? He’s come to see me? He was just here...” Wasn’t he?
“No, he wasn’t. He hasn’t. He couldn’t–”
“Well, I don’t know what’s going on, but I know he’s okay. He told me so himself.” What the fuck is going on? What is wrong with everyone?
“Emi, I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say. He’s gone, sweetie.”
“I get that he’s gone,” I tell her through gritted teeth. “His whereabouts seem to be in question. He’s somewhere. I don’t know why he hasn’t come to see me during the days to show you all he’s fine, but he’s been sleeping with me at night. I know that.
“I mean, I was just with him,” I remind her after a few deep breaths. “I don’t understand what’s happening.”
“They said you two left in his car,” she says, recalling the events of that night, not acknowledging my statements. “You went to the store or something... and when the light turned green, he drove out into the intersection, and another car went through a red light and hit his car, on his side.”
I hear her words, but have no recollection of this. All I can do is shake my head. Since I can’t even focus on anything through the tears, and since my head is pounding, I just close my eyes. My heart jumps as Nate appears again, his body a dark shadow against the brilliant sun. His familiar features come into focus as he comes closer to kiss my forehead and dab my cheeks with a tissue, but a stream of tears continues to move down my face.
I jump at the feel of someone else touching my face and open my eyes abruptly. Teresa takes a tissue, attempts to dry them, tries to stop them from falling. What the fuck?
“Where did he go?” I whisper, disoriented.
“He died there, on the scene,” she informs me.
“No, just now...” My voice fades quickly, my heart pounding. He was just here... but I know, deep down, he wasn’t... “What did you say?”
“That he...” She swallows hard. “That he died at the scene.”
“It just didn’t happen,” I tell her. “We woke up together after that. He had some broken ribs... I was fine...”
“Emi,” she hesitates, “I’m not sure that really happened...”
“But we were together the next morning,” I plead, wanting someone to listen to me, to understand that I saw him. That I was with him. That he was still alive.
“No, you weren’t,” she explains. “You were here, Emi. I was here, with you, with your family and friends. Nate was gone. Maybe you dreamed that you were together...”
“It was too real to be a dream.” I don’t understand. “And if it was, well, then let me go back there. Let me dream forever,” I begin to sob. “I need him. You don’t understand,” I mumble to her. “Where is Chris? Surely he found him.” I’m grasping, I know.
“He’s at the funeral,” she tells me, “with your family.”
“No, no, no, no...” I cry. “Noooo...” I moan.
“Oh, Emi, I know,” she says, holding my hand.
“My head hurts, Teresa, and I want to sleep.” Get me back to him, God. Help me find him. He’s here, I know he’s here. Take me to him. I don’t want to be anywhere but with him. Let me be with him.
“Do you want me to get a nurse?” I nod.
When the nurse arrives, Teresa tells them I’m very upset, that I want to sleep. She acts like I’m not even in the room, like I can’t hear her, but I can... But I do want to sleep, and the nurse can make that happen.
“Emi, honey?” the nurse asks. I direct my eyes to hers. She has very kind eyes. “Emi, can I get you something?”
“Just Nate,” I tell her, and begin to cry uncontrollably again. “He’s the only thing I want.”
“I know, baby, I know,” she rubs my arm. “Do you want to sleep?” I nod. A few minutes later, my body feels heavy, and the world becomes black again before he comes back into focus. Nate’s brown eyes stay with me before he ducks his head into the pillow, disappearing from my field of vision. I cling to him with all the strength I have.
~ * ~
The next time I wake up, it’s dark in the room. I immediately know where I am. I immediately know the circumstances that brought me here– or at least I know what people have told me. Still, I see this vivid image of Nate in the hotel room, leaning over me in the bed, his naked body next to mine. He was gazing into my eyes, and the way he looked at me... I knew he loved me, completely. I remember him moving a strand of hair from my eyes. I remember him kissing my forehead, touching my breasts, smiling at me, telling me he loved me. God, I love you, Emi. That was what he had said. I remember the words, every inflection, the look on his face when he said it before his head collapsed on the pillow next to mine.