After ordering sandwiches for Max and me and salad for Justine, we moved out to sit on the vast, perfectly green lawn that was shadowed by the twenty-story hospital that was beginning to feel like a second home. I was seeing the inside of that place more than I was seeing the inside of Mr. Davenport’s Bondi apartment.
“Tell me what’s going on, Savannah. I know we have only known each other a few weeks, but I see you more than I see my boyfriend and family, so if you need to talk, then speak to me.” Justine opened her salad before shooting me a pleading look. Could I really talk to her about everything? Could I open up to someone who had been a stranger less than a month ago?
“I feel useless. Is sitting beside Mr. Davenport all day every day really doing anything? I am on the other side of the world doing nothing that seems to be helping while the love of my life is in the US. Everything was perfect with Tate and me before this. We had the perfect life planned for the three of us, but then I was ripped from my present life to my past life by a single phone call and all rational thought flew out of the window and now I feel like I am stuck in limbo. I want nothing more than to be with Tate, and every morning I wake up and look at my suitcase, just wanting to pack up Max and me and go back to him, but then what happens if I leave and something happens to Mr. Davenport? I could never live with myself knowing that I wasn’t here. What do I do?”
“It’s helping, Savannah. Even though he isn’t communicating, his charts show that it’s helping. Every conversation you have with him, every time Max visits is helping. I’m not supposed to say anything, but they are going to attempt to bring him out of the coma in the next few weeks. His vitals are stable, he is responding to tests, his injuries are healing, and the swelling in his brain has subsided quicker than expected. You being here is definitely helping.”
My voice cracked with emotion as my eyes glistened with tears. “Really? You mean I may have him back soon? He might be awake? Will he be able to talk? When can he come home? When will I be able to see him?” I shot off question after desperate question.
“Hang on, Savannah.” She placed her salad on the grass beside her and grabbed my fidgeting hands. “We are going to try and bring him back. I can’t tell you exactly when but as soon as I do, I will tell you. He has had major head trauma, so we cannot guarantee that he will come out of this the same man that you remember. We are doing everything and I mean everything to bring him back to you. I promise you that I will keep you in the loop at all times. You have my word.”
I had no more words of response. Until I saw Mr. Davenport conscious, I knew my life would be tumultuous, but I had to keep going. The little boy that was chasing the seagulls and squealing in complete happiness needed his mum functioning like everything was okay. How could I explain everything to him? I knew he was missing Tate. He would talk to him constantly, gibbering and laughing at whatever he was saying. He’d brought a photo of Tate to the hospital today and kept saying, “Daddy.” It broke my heart. Would he hate me for keeping him from Tate? Would Tate hate me for keeping him from Max? I felt like my heart and mind were in a UFC cage, both pounding each other to the point that one would be completely fucked over and the other would win whether they were meant to win or not.
The moment we walked into the darkened apartment that Max and I now called home after being kicked out of Mr. Davenport’s room, Max shot out of my arms, ran across the living room, and launched himself onto the couch. His newfound running skills were running me rampant. He literally ran everywhere and anywhere he could. It was so damn cute but so damn exhausting. Watching him curl up in his favorite corner of the couch, I knew he would be asleep within minutes. Opening my laptop, I sat at the dining room table and began typing out everything I was feeling in a new email.
From: Savannah Rae
To: Tate Connors
Time: 20.32pm AEST
Subject: Max
Hi Tate,
Max and I just got home from the hospital and now he is curled up on the couch watching Gordy. He has seemed to have forgotten about Thomas and now everything is Gordy this, Gordy that.
Today I got news from Justine that they are going to try and bring Mr Davenport out of the coma in the next few weeks. I hate seeing Mr Davenport like this, Tate. I feel so helpless when I’m just sitting beside his bed while he lays motionless in front of me. I don’t know what I can do. I talk to him, I tell him everything Max has been doing I even read him the paper. Apparently every little bit helps but it’s so heartbreaking when I am seeing absolutely no change. It’s not even like I am looking at him anymore.
All I want is to be wrapped up in your arms and to feel your heart beat against my chest. I miss you so much, Tate. I don’t know what to do. I want to come back to you, I want to sneak into our room early one morning and climb into bed with you so I’m there when you wake up. I want to kiss you and make love to you and hear you breathing in my ear in the early hours of the morning. But then what if something happens to Mr Davenport? I would never forgive myself if I’m not here when he wakes up or if….. I can’t even say it. Why does this have to be so screwed up? Please tell me what to do? Please tell me that you understand? Please tell me that I am doing the right thing?
You have my heart,
Savannah x
Tate
Two months later
THE MOMENT my phone chimed with an incoming email notification, I knew it would be Sav. Fumbling through my pockets, I pulled out my phone, instantly unlocking it and going to my Gmail app. Sure enough, it was from Sav and just seeing her name flash in front of me made my face come alive with a smile. The smallest things meant so much now.
Sitting at the bar at the end of a busy shift at Red Velvet, I scrolled through the email, drinking in every word she had written. The longer we were apart, the more numb I got. I was moving through the days like a robot now, every day moving into one. The highlights of my days were now the emails, the calls, and the text messages I received from Savannah.
“An email from Sav?” Blake asked as he took a seat on the stool beside me and nodded in acknowledgement to Jack, who stood behind the bar watching me closely.
“Yep.”
“How’s everything going over there?”
“They are going to try and bring him out of the coma. I don’t think she will be coming home any time soon.” I grabbed the glass of scotch that Jack had pushed towards me and slammed it down, the burn of the strong liquor awakening my senses.
“Go to her, man. Jump online and buy a ticket and get yourself to Australia. Jack can look after the bar and I am off tour for a couple of weeks, so I am more than happy to pour some drinks and swoon some ladies.” He shot me a cocky grin.
“What? And get my bar mentioned in a sexual harassment case?”
“Hey! The ladies never complain.”
The thought of buying a ticket to Sydney and turning up on Sav’s doorstep ignited something within me, arising something I had given up on. Hope. Hope that I could see my son. Hope that I could wrap my arms around Sav and practically kiss her face off. I looked at Blake and Jack, who watched me with encouragement flashing over their faces.
“You know what? What’s stopping me from going there? Abso-fucking-lutely nothing.” I pushed back from the stool and walked towards the far couches that lined the walls near the stage for privacy. Collapsing on the couch, I scrolled through my phone until I got to an app that Sav had downloaded onto my phone before she’d left that allowed me to be able to text her. Checking my world clock, I saw that it was seven p.m. there. She would have left the hospital for the night.
Tate: What would you do if I just turned up on your doorstep one day?
Sav: Honestly?
Tate: Always honestly.
Sav: I would probably scream in your face while I cry my eyes out but then I’d pull you into a hug and I would fuck the living daylights out of you and hope to god Max isn’t around to see mummy attacking daddy.
Tate: Jesus Sav, I’m at work and I am about re
ady to explode in my pants. Fuck I miss everything about you. I want to taste you, I want to be balls deep in you, I want to pull your hair until you whimper but then beg me for more.
Sav: I miss the ache of you being so deep inside me that I can feel you for days.
Tate: I’m booking a flight to see you. I will be there in two weeks. Let me finalize these details for the club opening in Vegas and have my final investor meeting and I’ll be there. If I could get out of these meetings believe me I would. I will stay until the moment I can bring you and Max home.
Silence.
I checked my phone constantly, and for ten long minutes, there was no response. Did she really not want me there? Was this just her way of easing me into the thought of not being together? The longer the minutes clicked over, the more my mind rioted.
Savannah: Say that again.
Tate: I’ll be with you in two weeks.
Savannah: I love you so much.
THE MOMENT I told Savannah I would be coming to Sydney, everything seemed to change. I was happier, I stopped working as much, and I was enjoying life again. Knowing that I would be seeing Max and Savannah in a matter of weeks did a world of difference. I walk walking on cloud nine.
“Tate, can I have a word?”
Jack joined me in the kitchen and I couldn’t help but be aware of the hesitation in his step. His eyes darted back to the living area. He looked completely on edge. After I grabbed my coffee and nodded towards the living room, he followed me in and sat on the chair opposite me.
“Is Tanzi here?” he asked suddenly.
“No. She left about twenty minutes ago.” My suspicion grew by the second. “What’s going on, Jack?”
“You know I love your sister, right?” He dropped his eyes to the floor and swallowed hard. “Look, I am just going to come out and say it.”
The longer he hesitated, the more suspicious I got.
“I am planning on proposing to Tanzi, but I want to ask your permission first. I love your sister, man. I worship the ground she walks on, and I want her to be my fiancée. So, Tate Connors, will you give me permission to propose to Tanzi Connors?”
My best friend was asking for my permission to propose to my twin? I couldn’t hide my excitement. I had been waiting for this moment for years now. When I thought of Tanzi, the only thing I wished for is her utter happiness and for her to be treated like the princess she was, and Jack does that—daily. Of course I had been an asshole to him when he had first come on the scene, but sure enough, he’d kept coming back. And the next thing I knew, he had been sitting on the couch in Tanzi’s and my living room so many years ago. I had done the whole arrogant brother routine, warning him, threatening that if he hurt her that he’d pay—the usual brother spiel. But then we’d surfed together, we’d drunk copious amounts of alcohol together, and eventually he’d become assistant manager of Red Velvet. The rest is history.
“I would be honored for you to marry my sister. You have my full blessing,” I said with pride dripping from my words.
“Thanks, man.”
“So when is the big proposal happening?”
“Next weekend. I just need to organize it.” He flipped on the television before turning back to look at me. “When are you going to ask the big question?”
I considered my answer. Proposing to Savannah had been playing on my mind ever since Max was born. I wanted it to be perfect. I needed it to be perfect for her.
“You never know what will happen in Sydney,” I said with a smirk before turning back to the television and thinking of all the ways I could propose to Sav.
Savannah
IT HAD been two weeks since Tate had announced that he was coming to Australia, and now, in less than twenty-four hours, he would be here. The thought of lying in bed with him, having him hold me, kiss me, and of course make love to me sent shivers skyrocketing down my spine. My body was craving the touch that only he could provide and the pleasure that he could deliver. My body knew how long it had been.
Today was going to involve all things Tate Connors. I was banned from going to the hospital as they were finally attempting to bring Mr. Davenport out of his coma and I wasn’t allowed to be in the room for fear of my appearance doing more damage than good. I’d screamed, demanded, and begged, but they wouldn’t have any of it.
Thankfully, I had the perfect distraction. Home and body prep for Tate. Pulling out my phone, I opened my notes app and wrote exactly what I needed to do in the next ten hours before I would be allowed to go to the hospital. I had negotiated with the doctor and he said had that I could visit at five p.m., considering how Mr. Davenport was faring.
My smile took over my face as I busily began typing my to-do list.
Clean apartment
Grocery shop
Wax, buff, and moisturise every inch of my body
Put red satin sheets on bed
Buy new lingerie
Satisfied with my list, I climbed out of bed, wrapping my gown around my body and putting my phone in my pocket in case any news came through. I took off through the quiet space of the apartment towards Max’s room, shocked that he wasn’t already out of bed and begging me to watch cartoons. It was usually our six am ritual.
Quietly opening the door of his room, I felt my heart rate quicken at the sight before me. There he was my little guy, sitting by the sliding glass door with his legs pulled up to his chest, looking out over the beach, peacefully, calmly, and contently. For a minute, I stood in silence, taking in the sight before me. Grabbing my phone from my gown pocket, I took a photo and immediately sent it to Tate with the caption “Like father like son.”
“What are you doing over there, Max?” I asked softly. His head spun around quickly towards me at the sound of my voice.
“Daddy?” he asked, pointing to the guys on the beach going for their morning surf.
Walking across the room with my heart in my throat, I sat beside him on the carpeted floor and immediately he crawled into my lap, wrapping his little arms around my neck and hugging me tight. Every night he would look at a photo of Tate and talk to him. It had been my mission from day one that Max would never forget who his dad was, and knowing he would be seeing him so soon was something I was so excited to be able to give to Max.
“Okay, little man. We have a big day ahead of us. We are going to clean, go shopping, go to the hospital, and then come home because tomorrow I have a very big surprise for you.”
“A surprise?” he asked with wide excited eyes.
“Yep, for you and Mummy but we have a lot to do before we get it.”
FIVE P.M. was constantly taunting me, radiating in front of me, begging for me to completely come undone. Finally, at four thirty, Max and I got into the taxi and made our way to the hospital to await news of Mr. Davenport. Justine had been quiet all day and that only intensified my anxiety.
In some fucked-up and crazy way, I had almost felt more calm when he had been in the coma because that was one thing I’d known I could be certain about. My fears were sky high. What if he couldn’t remember us? What if he had no clue who Max was? What if he couldn’t talk or walk? What if he didn’t wake up at all?
“Miss, we are here,” a firm voice said from the front seat. Looking out of the window, I saw the bright lights of St. George Hospital in front of me. Handing him a fifty dollar note, Max and I climbed out of the cab before I propped Max up on my hip and ambled through the double glass doors, making my way through the corridors that I knew like the back of my hand.
Justine stepped out of the room as Max and I turned the corner. Her eyes found mine and I panicked because I couldn’t read them. She rushed up the hall towards me and finally the most welcoming smile I had ever wanted to see took over her face. Instantly I felt my emotions bubble over and my cheeks flooded with pent-up tears I had been holding in all day.
“Justine, what’s going on? Please tell me it’s good news,” I rushed out.
“He is awake, Savannah. He seems to be alert. He
is speaking, he has no recollection of the accident, and he is complaining of an intense headache, but that is expected. He knows you are here and he has been asking for you.”
It was as if my prayers had been answered. The past two months had been a blur of tears, stress, separation, and panic, but just hearing that he was awake felt like the biggest weight had been lifted from my shoulders.
“Can I see him?” I whispered hopefully.
“Of course.” She smiled before her eyes dropped their emotion slightly. “But, Savannah, please remember he has just awoken form a severe head trauma. He may be a little disoriented, so just be patient. How about I take Max to get ice cream so you can go and have some time with Mr. Davenport?”
Nodding, I kissed Max and watched as he walked hand in hand with Justine down the hall. When I turned back towards the closed door of Mr. Davenport’s room, my nerves swam freely. I grabbed hold of the door handle and the door swept open quietly.
What I noticed first was the lack of the constant beeping of Mr. Davenport’s breathing machines that had taken over the room at every visit. There was nothing. He was breathing on his own. At the sound of the door opening, Mr. Davenport’s head rolled slowly to the side and a weak smile fell over his face as his eyes met mine, the eyes I hadn’t seen for two long months. I stood frozen to the spot as every emotion I could summon swayed within me. My test tightened and a loud sob escaped my chest as fresh tears streamed down my cheeks. I didn’t know what to do, what to say, whether to move or turn around and leave and try to wake up from this dream.
Breathe Again Page 17