Violation

by Sawyer Bennett

Page 6

  We all three settle in to eat, and actually have a pretty good time. The thing with Macy is that she always likes to shock you when she first meets you. Then, after that, she settles right down into a charming conversationalist. She has no problem keeping Matt amused, and I use the time to watch him interact on a personal level and away from the office.

  He laughs so easy, his eyes crinkling at the corners and his dimples making periodic appearances. He reaches over to me every once and a while, rubbing my leg softly just so he can have contact with me. The secret smile we share doesn’t have to be so secret here, and it graces both of our faces when we look at each other.

  I wish it could always be this way between us.

  “So, Matt… where do you live?” Macy asks.

  “I live over in Chelsea,” he says as he takes a bite of egg roll.

  “That’s closer to your office—how come you two just don’t go there after work? I mean, it’s not like you do anything but eat and screw like bunnies. ”

  That’s a good question, so I turn to Matt with a smile and playfully punch him on the shoulder. “Yeah, how come you never take me to your place?”

  Matt doesn’t miss a beat. “Because I never invite the women I’m just fu—”

  He stops abruptly, sudden realization of what he was about to say hitting him. He looks quickly to me, guilt lying heavy on his face.

  I’m not going to lie… it hurt to hear him say that.

  “You mean, you don’t invite the women you’re just f**king over to your place,” I clarify, trying to keep my voice light and unaffected.

  Macy cautiously rises from her chair. “I think I’m going to head to bed now and give you two a little space. ”

  I don’t bother looking at her as she leaves, and Matt’s eyes never waver from mine. When she’s gone, he says, “I’m sorry… that was crude. But it’s the truth. I told you I don’t do relationships, Mac. I always—”

  Holding my hand up, I stop him. “No, what you said was honest and you’re right… you’ve been very clear about things with me. If there’s one thing I appreciate about you, is that you always give me honesty. ”

  I try to give him a warm smile, to let him know my feelings aren’t hurt, but deep down… they are. But in fairness to Matt, he’s never led me to believe this would ever be anything more.

  “Do you want me to go?” Matt asks softly.

  “No,” I assure him with a half smile. “Stay. Finish eating and let’s go shake the apartment’s foundation. ”

  “Okay,” he says, giving me a tentative smile of his own.

  We finish dinner and hit the bed… hard.

  Nothing has changed in that respect. He touches me, and I melt for him. I grasp onto him, and he shudders. We still have that sizzling hot chemistry between us, and for the first time, I am beginning to truly accept… that is truly all there is.

  For the last eighteen hours, I haven’t thought of Matt.

  There are too many other things on my mind. Far more important than Matt.

  I glance around the hospital room, taking in the gray paint on the walls, the gray floor, the gray tone to my mother’s skin.

  Nope. Haven’t thought of Matt once in that time. All I can think about is my mother’s broken body… her broken brain that has swollen so much they had to cut a hole in her skull to relieve the pressure.

  Matt had left my apartment around nine PM the night before and I immediately fell into an exhausted sleep, so deep I apparently didn’t even hear my cell phone when the hospital called.

  Macy shook me awake, the look on her face so terrible that I almost vomited knowing something horrific had happened. She pulled me into a warm hug and told me she had bad news.

  Then she proceeded to destroy my world when she told me my mom had been in a terrible car accident and was in critical condition in my hometown of Nashville. She watched me apprehensively, waiting for me to melt down, but that never even crossed my mind.

  Instead, I sprang into action, booting up my laptop and looking for a late evening flight out. There was none until the next morning, and I knew I could make the thirteen-hour drive faster. I hastily packed a suitcase, having no clue what I really put in there, all the while Macy paced nervously, wringing her hands.

  She begged me not to drive, and I shut her down with a glare.

  She begged to come with me, but I told her I didn’t need her. My gut didn’t even clench up when I saw the look of hurt and worry pass over her face. I’m not sure why I told her that, other than to say I probably wasn’t thinking straight, because I would never intentionally hurt her.

  Within twenty minutes, I was heading to the parking garage that housed my car, which I hardly ever drove because it just wasn’t needed in the city, and prayed that the fact I hadn’t had the oil changed in over a year wouldn’t hurt my chances of making it to Nashville. I had merely told Macy before I left to please call my office in the morning and tell them I wouldn’t be in and had no clue when I’d be back.

  She tried to give me a hug before I left, but I was icy cold with the knowledge that my mom could be dead before I made it home, and I didn’t spare her another glance as I left the apartment.

  I fueled myself up on coffee the entire trip and never got stopped once for speeding. I drove straight to the hospital, praying for the best and expecting the worse. Mom’s doctor had called me with an update just as I was hitting the Virginia border.

  He made me feel hopeless.

  It was hopeless… pretty much.

  My mom… my champion… the one that has been there for me through thick and thin, was essentially brain dead. The doctor droned on and on about what all the tests had shown, and while they wanted to get one more neurosurgeon to evaluate her, they wanted to prepare me for the worst. They told me she was on life support and was not in any pain, but that I would have some decisions to make.

  Decisions.

  I know what they mean by that. I look at the respirator attached to my mom, watch the way it’s breathing for her, and I follow the electrical cord from the base of the unit to the wall plug. They want me to make the decision to unplug her.

  But how can I just unplug my mom from this life? I’m not sure I can, and I don’t have anyone else to help me with this decision. My dad, God rest his soul, died four years ago from a heart attack at the tender age of forty-six. I’m an only child. It’s just been my mom and me since then, and I’ve always been the one leaning on her.

  Now she’s leaning on me… needing me to do what’s right by her.

  Tears well up in my eyes and start leaking out. I let them slip slowly down my face, making no move to wipe them away. It does no good because they’ll just start up again.

  It’s all I’ve been doing since I got to the hospital five hours ago… staring at my mom from across the room, and weeping.

  I’m a f**king rock in the storm, my sarcastic voice says, and more tears slip down my cheeks. I check my cell phone and see missed calls from both Macy and Matt, both of whom left voice mails that I have no desire to listen to. I assume Matt probably wants to know when I’m coming back or something. I shoot off a quick text to Macy to let her know I’ll call her tonight.

  A nurse comes in, giving me a sad smile. She checks my mom’s vitals and switches out a saline bag on her IV. All the while, the ventilator rasps and the monitor issues a soft beep every few seconds.

  When the nurse leaves, I stand from the chair and stretch, grimacing over the popping bones in my vertebrae. Glancing at my watch, I note it’s almost four PM, and I know the doctor will be in some time this evening to discuss options.

  As if I really have an option.

  My stomach growls, and I realize it’s been more than twenty-four hours since I’ve eaten… unless you count the gallons of coffee that I drank on the way here.

  I walk up to the edge of my mom’s bed and look down at her. Taking her hand gent
ly in mine, I bring it up to rub against my wet cheek.

  “Oh, Mom,” I whisper. “What am I supposed to do?”

  She doesn’t answer, but I don’t expect her to. I watch her heart monitor, and there’s no change. Nothing about my touch or my voice will rouse her from her coma. No amount of love for me is going to pull her from those dark depths.

  The tears start pouring now in earnest, because the clock is ticking and the doctor will want my decision in a few hours. I call upon God, but he gives me no answer. I wrack my brain for every conversation I may have ever had with my mom about dying with dignity. For the life of me, I have no clue what her wishes were when it came to this sort of thing, although I can’t imagine she’d want to live life this way.

  I am so lost and I don’t see a clear path anywhere, so I do nothing but hunch over my mom and quietly cry.

  “Mac?”

  My body goes still, and my breath freezes in my lungs.

  It’s not possible.

  Turning away from my mom, I let my gaze follow the voice. Standing in the doorway is a man, but my eyes are so tear-filled that he’s just a hazy apparition. I blink once, pushing the liquid away, and my vision clears.

  And there Matt Connover stands, looking at me with sympathy. He opens his arms up, and there is no other choice in my mind but to walk into them.