Breathe Again

by Rachel Brookes

  We stood in each other’s arms until the very last moment. Tanzi walked towards us, Max in her arms. Grabbing him, I held him close to my chest, desperate to hug him because my fear of not seeing him for god only knew how long was barreling in.

  “You be a good boy for Mommy, okay? And remember that Daddy loves you so much.”

  “Where are you going, Daddy?”

  “You are going on a plane with Mommy, and Daddy is going home with Aunty Tanzi.”

  “But why?”

  “You are going to see Gramps.”

  “But why?”

  “You and Mommy are going on a trip.”

  “But why?”

  “Come on, Max. Let’s go,” Savannah’s broken voice spoke softly. Max clung to my neck, and his soft cries were like knives in my heart. After I finally pried his arms from around me, his cries were the last thing I heard. Watching them walk down the corridor and towards the plane felt surreal, like I was watching a movie where I was the star. It didn’t feel real; I didn’t want it to be real.

  Max’s eyes locked with mine until they got to the corner that would take them out of my sight. Savannah looked back towards me with tears streaming down her face. Her lips moved as she mouthed, “I love you,” and then they were gone.

  Jack stood beside me as my eyes fixated on the space where Sav and Max had just disappeared through. “Come on, man. You have to let her go.” His words cut through me.

  The problem was that I could never let her go.

  Savannah

  SIXTEEN HOURS later, Max and I stepped into the brightness and heat of the Australian sun. Being surrounded by Australian accents didn’t comfort me at all. This didn’t feel like home anymore. The plane trip had been tortuously long I hadn’t slept and my mind had kept running through worst case scenario. What if I turned up and something had happened while I was in the air? What if he had woken up and I hadn’t been there?

  I’d made a decision on the plane during the tenth hour of travel. My complete focus needed to be on Mr. Davenport. No matter how long this took, I would be by his side. I had to put myself second. I needed to stop thinking about anything besides caring for Max and Mr. Davenport. All of my life, he had been the one constant. He was my family, my protector, the one who had saved me. And he was the one who had allowed me to still be alive today. At my darkest, he was my light, and now, as he was facing the biggest challenge of his life, I needed to be his hope.

  I cringed at the thought of what I had put him through. Mr. Davenport never questioned any decisions I made. Yes, he might have suggested other ways, but he never left me. He had been my life since I was ten years old, and now, with a child of my own, I needed him more than ever. It was my time to protect him, to care for him, to provide him with everything he had provided me.

  Tate had been my constant companion during the trip; he’d never left my thoughts. A constant stream of tears cascaded down my cheeks as I realized what I had left.

  Max struggled in my arms as we waited at baggage claim. After I placed him on the ground, he held my hand and pulled me towards the door, anxious to run around and stretch his little legs. He had been absolutely perfect during the long trip. As I waited, getting antsier the longer it took. I pulled my phone out of my handbag and turned it on. A new message icon flashed on the screen as my phone came to life.

  I miss you two so much already. I called the hospital and there has been no change. Call me. I love you x

  I pressed the call button, not caring for one second about the international call rates, just needing to hear his voice. He picked up after one ring.

  “Savannah?”

  “We just arrived and I needed to hear your voice.”

  “How was the flight? How is Max?”

  “The flight was long and Max was amazing. He had one flight attendant wrapped around his finger. We seriously have a lady-killer on our hands.”

  “He is doing his daddy proud.”

  I laughed for the first time in days.

  “It’s good to hear you laugh.”

  “I don’t know how I’m going to do this without you.”

  “I’m always with you, Sav. You have my heart in the palm of your hands, so wherever you are, I’m with you.”

  RUSHING THROUGH the corridors of St. George Hospital, I was dragging my suitcase and carrying Max on my hip, having come straight from the airport. Finally reaching the empty waiting room of ICU, I sat Max on one of the plastic seats besides the nurses’ station and gave him his favorite Thomas book.

  Turning towards the desk, I stood before a middle-aged woman with a face of thunder. She continued to tap away mindlessly on the keyboard, completely ignoring the fact that I was standing in front of her. I cleared my throat loudly and but she didn’t look up.

  “Excuse me.”

  Still she didn’t look at me. My temper was spiraling out of control with every second she blatantly ignored me. It was seven a.m. and my jetlag was the worst I had ever suffered, I was starving hungry, my son hadn’t had a good sleep in hours, and I hadn’t slept for twenty-four hours.

  “Look at me,” I snarled, my hand pounding the desk.

  Finally she met my eyes. “Visitors hours are not until nine a.m. Children are not permitted.” Looking over at Max she unashamedly turned her nose down at him and rolled her eyes. How fucking dare she?

  Leaning over the counter, I glared at her with every ounce of my frustration. “I have just traveled sixteen hours and I will not be leaving before I get into room eight. You will let me the fuck through the doors, otherwise I will scream this place down with bloody murder. I don’t need your sour face bitchy attitude. Are we going to have a problem?” I kept my voice low so that Max didn’t hear me curse.

  “Come with me, miss. I’ll take you through.” I turned at the sound of a warm, inviting voice behind me. A young woman who looked barely old enough to have graduated stood just behind me dressed in her blue hospital uniform. Her smile was genuine and her eyes were welcoming, a beautiful contrast to bitch-face mole behind the counter.

  “You should learn some bedside manners. Don’t be a sour bitch all your life.”

  I leaned down and lifted Max from the seat. After taking his hand, we left the woman behind the counter huffing and puffing as we followed the sweet girl through another two corridors, my hand holding Max’s for dear life.

  The closer we got to room eight, the more nervous I felt. I had no clue what to expect. My mind had been protecting itself with thoughts of walking through the doors of the hospital room and finding Mr. Davenport sitting up in bed, drinking his favorite coffee with the morning paper in his hands. That’s the only thing that had kept me from completely breaking down over the past week.

  “Miss, I would suggest not taking the little one in there. There are tubes and machines and it might scare the little guy. I could take him to the staff room and watch cartoons if you’d like?”

  She was so damn sweet. I looked at Max and knew she was right. I couldn’t let him see Mr. Davenport like this. Crouching down to his eye level, I smiled as his big blue eyes looked at me. “Maxey, you are going to go and watch some cartoons while mummy goes in that room for a little while,” I said, pointing to the closed door of room eight. I looked at her name badge quickly. “This is Justine and she is your new friend, okay? You could show her your Thomas book.” Max hesitantly looked between me and Nurse Justine and a tired smile swept over his face.

  “I’m Max.”

  My gorgeous amazing boy. I followed Justine into the staff room and moved our luggage to the far corner before setting Max up on the couch with his book and favorite blanket. I knew he wouldn’t stay awake for long.

  “Are you sure this is okay?”

  “Of course. I’ve been expecting you. I have been on the phone to a Tate Connors from the US all day. He has been ringing every hour for updates and asked me to take care of you when you got here.”

  Tate was looking after me from halfway across the world. A single
tear rolled over my cheek at the amazingness of him. He truly was with me. “Thank you,” I whispered.

  My feet moved on their own as my mind left my body. I was shutting down in fear of what I was about to walk into. The number eight gleamed on the closed door in front of me, and with a shaking hand, I pushed down the handle and stepped into the unknown.

  My hand flew to cover my mouth as I gasped and took in the stranger in the bed in front of me. I barely recognized him. Gone was the strong, courageous man that could make fear overtake me with a single glance. Gone was the man who would bring me pancakes on my birthday every year. And gone was the man who had shed a tear when Max was born. In his place was a weak, barely breathing man who looked a shadow of his former self. A constant beep from the heart monitor filled the air and a breathing tube was secured down his throat as he clearly struggled to live.

  I pulled the chair from against the wall towards the side of the bed and sat beside him. I didn’t know what to do. Did I talk to him? Could I touch him? I sat like a statue, just looking at him and trying desperately to remember to breathe. After what felt like an eternity, the door of the room opened and a middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair walked in, startled to find me sitting by the bed.

  “Miss Rae, I assume?” he asked in a deep, low tone. I stood from the chair and shook his hand. “I am Doctor Sloan and I’ve been the doctor taking care of this very lucky man.”

  Lucky? Was he looking at the same person I was looking at? My face must have shown my confusion because he pointed towards the chair, indicating for me to take a seat, and then he started with his doctor speech.

  “Simon suffered a traumatic brain injury in a motor vehicle accident ten days ago and this injury is our main concern. Due to the severity of the injury, he was placed into a medically induced coma to allow the swelling and bruising of the brain acceptable time to recover without the added stress of normal brain function. We ran a variety of brain activity tests last night, which came back better than expected, but he definitely isn’t out of the woods. As the swelling comes down, we will then proceed to start reducing the medication, slowly bring him out of the coma, and see if he comes through on his own and to see his level of function.”

  “Will he be okay?” I finally spoke, my eyes begging Doctor Sloan.

  “He is a fighter, Miss Rae, and he has every chance of pulling through this. His recovery rate so far has been exceptional. I suggest talking to him, holding his hand, making him aware you are here. He may not be receptive, but studies have shown that this kind of interaction helps quicken recovery. I will ask Nurse Jenkins to bring in his belongings for you.”

  With a stern nod and a straight smile, Doctor Sloan walked through the door and shut it behind him. With a shaking hand, I grabbed Mr. Davenport’s hand and squeezed it lovingly. I could do this. I scooted the chair closer, leaned my head on the mattress, and looked up at him.

  “Max and I are here. Max took his first plane trip today and he was so amazing. He drew you a picture. He is here but I haven’t brought him in to see you yet. I am scared that he will be frightened with the noise and the tubes.” I felt my throat tighten and the first of my tears slide over my cheeks. “Please fight this, Mr. Davenport. We need you more than you will ever realize. You have to fight. You need to come back to us. I can’t do this without you and Max needs his gramps. I promise I will not leave your side until you are walking beside me out of this hospital. That’s my promise. You have spent your life caring for me, and now I will care for you, whether you like it or not.”

  Tate

  One month later

  THIS WAS fucked.

  What kind of karma was this?

  I felt like a selfish asshole because all I wanted was for my girlfriend and son to pack up and leave Australia and come back to me, but how could I really wish for that when Mr. Davenport was on the brink of death in Australia?

  So many times I had wanted to beg Savannah to jump on the next plane and come home, but I knew I couldn’t. She needed to be the one to make the decision to come back to me. I wasn’t going to be the cause of her leaving Mr. Davenport, because I knew she would never forgive me if something were to happen and I would never forgive myself if I were the cause of her not being there, if god forbid, something did happen. All I could do was pray that she made the decision and soon.

  I had never felt this extent on loneliness before. It was gut-ripping, heart-twisting and breath-consuming cruelty. It was like being in a constant state of distraction, a place between reality and fantasy, a world where you hoped that you were about to wake up from the worst nightmare of your life.

  “Tate, seriously, not again.” Tanzi’s words ripped me from my tender thoughts.

  Every morning it was the same. I’d get lost in my thoughts and Tanzi was the only one who could pull me from them.

  From the stove, she quickly grabbed the pan of what was supposed to contain scrambled eggs but now was just smoking charcoal. “You need to pay attention.”

  “Sorry,” I mumbled, grabbing my glass of orange juice from the bench top and walking out of the kitchen and towards the living room.

  “Wait,” Tanzi’s strong, pleading voice echoed from the kitchen. Stopping in my tracks, I dropped my head and awaited her next words. “I am worried about you, Tate. It’s been a month. What happens if they don’t come back for a while? I hate seeing you like this. What can I do?”

  “You can bring back my son and girlfriend.”

  I left Tanzi speechless in the kitchen as I rushed out of the apartment, desperate to get away from the inquisition. I couldn’t get into a conversation where the subject was Max and Sav being away for an extended period of time. I couldn’t even begin to fathom that idea. My one place of refuge over the past month had been Red Velvet. It was the one place where I could get lost in the craziness of business meetings and expansion opportunities. Now, as I worked twelve-hour shifts most days, it was my one place of solitude.

  It was early when I arrived—the cleaners were still there—and I knew I had the empty bar for a few hours before I had to deal with conversation.

  Sliding into my chair, I opened my laptop and looked at a blank email before beginning to tap feverishly at the keys.

  From: Tate Connors

  To: Savannah Rae

  Time: 08.48am PST

  Subject: I miss you

  Hi Sav,

  I miss you. It’s as simple as that. What else can I say? I miss your touch, your taste, your lips, and your smell. I miss every single thing about you. You are making me into some mushy guy who is pining over his girlfriend. Fuck, I even slept with one of your t-shirts the other night just so I could feel somewhat near you.

  How is the little guy doing? I hope he isn’t getting into too much mischief. Thank you for the Skype call the other night. You don’t realize how much it meant to be able to see and hear you both.

  How is everything with Mr. D? Is there any change in his condition? What are the doctors saying?

  I really do miss you both so much. I knew it would be tough but I didn’t think it would be this tough. Please take care of yourself Sav. Mr. Davenport needs you strength and so does Max.

  I love you Savannah.

  Tate.

  Savannah

  I WAS exhausted, both physically and mentally. Days were running into each other like I was in some messed-up Groundhog Day. Everything was predictable—my days, my emotions, and my reactions. My day involved waking up at six a.m. with Max jumping in bed with me. We would climb out of bed after our morning phone call with Tate. Then I’d make his favorite breakfast and watch our morning cartoons while I caught up with emails from the States. We would dress and then make our way to the hospital, where we would spend most of the day.

  I had no clue what else to do. My emotions were a wreck, I was constantly on edge and my phone was always glued to my hand in case there is any change in Mr. Davenport while I wasn’t around. I spent hour after hour sitting beside an unresponsive M
r. Davenport, not knowing whether my presence was even helping. My bedside vigil would remain until I saw him open his eyes, but the longer I stayed, the more my relationship with Tate suffered. There was nothing win-win about this, and I knew for a fact that I was destroying the best thing that had ever happened to me and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

  “Savannah.”

  I lifted my head from its resting position on the mattress beside my hand that was holding Mr. Davenport’s to find Justine standing by the door with Max in her arms. She had been my constant companion since I had arrived in Sydney. She would look after Max while I would talk with the doctors, and she would take him to the hospital park when my emotions got the better of me. Without her, I had no clue what I would have become.

  “Let’s go and grab a coffee in the cafeteria.”

  My eyes shot to Mr. Davenport anxiously, not wanting to be away from him for a moment. It was hell leaving him at night when visiting hours were over, let alone voluntarily leaving him during the time when I could be here.

  She spoke softly. “Let’s take Max to grab some lunch. He misses his mummy.”

  My precious Max. His cuddles in the late hours of the night, his innocent giggles as he learned something new, and his sweet kisses first thing in the morning were everything I needed to calm the torrential downpour that life was throwing at me at the moment.

  “Okay.” Agreeing, I pulled myself up from the chair that I hadn’t left for the past three hours and stood anxiously by the bed. I leaned over, taking in the still-unconscious Mr. Davenport, a stranger of himself lying before me. “Don’t go anywhere while I’m gone,” I whispered before kissing his forehead softly and turning to follow Justine and Max to the cafeteria.