Fate

by Tia Wylder

  “Well, you are. Being quite presumptuous, that is. If Tiffany continues to fight, I’ll provide the means for her to do so,” he maintained a strong gaze at the nurse. The nurse considered him with a faintly sad smile, nodding and stepping back. “If that’s all?”

  “That’s all, Doctor Brookes. I do pray that things work out in your favor. We’re all praying for you,” she murmured. He hesitated a moment, feeling guilty for lashing out. However, he couldn’t shake the feeling that she deserved it in a sense. They couldn’t ask him to be the one to end the life of the woman he loved. Not when he had just found her, not when they had such little time together.

  Shaking off the conversation, he slipped towards the elevator, making his way out of the hospital for the first time in days.

  The sun shone brightly, and it promised to be a beautiful day. He only wished he could share it with Tiffany.

  Chapter Eight

  Falling back into a normal routine had not been an easy task. Though he had missed his young clients, Daniel found himself longing for the lonely seat in Tiffany’s hospital room. Perhaps when she was well within his sights, it was harder to entertain the idea that she could potentially be gone. Though she could not speak, the rhythmic beeps of the heart monitor did all the talking for her.

  “I’m here. Don’t give up yet.”

  It was difficult, here in his office, not to consider the likelihood that he was living on false hopes. He didn't want to give up on Tiffany. Were the roles reversed, he was confident she would have remained at his side. She would have done all she could to see him brought ‘back to life' in a sense. If the roles were reversed, however, Tiffany never would have never hurt him deeply enough to send him running away.

  He cursed himself, not for the first time, for allowing her to slip away from him that day. He knew blaming himself was a fruitless task, but he couldn’t help himself. If he had simply accepted his feelings, told Tiffany how he’d felt when he had the chance…

  No matter. He would have his chance when she awoke.

  ...If she awoke.

  He shook off that painful thought, shuffling through some papers in his office to try and distract himself from his own immeasurable suffering. The usual routine check-ups would make up most of his day, which was something of a relief. He didn’t know how much tragedy he could find himself able to handle. Running a hand through his hair, he rose from his office chair as his nurse slipped into the office. She handed him a chart for one of his patients, and he flipped through the pages for a moment before nodding his head and making his way to the examination room in question. He forced a grin that was much more cheerful than he truly felt, but it seemed much he’d been doing was contrary to how he felt.

  Daniel couldn't allow himself to get lost in his recently developed self-loathing while a client was waiting. It simply wouldn't be appropriate to stumble into the room with tears in his eyes. He took a moment outside the door to steel himself, brushing a hand through his hair once more before stepping inside. The child's mother sat in the usual seat parents took, tapping her heel on the floor as she waited for the doctor. Her eyes widened upon seeing him, and Daniel took the briefest of moments to muse that it was usually the boy's father that brought him in for check-ups. He offered the woman a wan smile, managing to remain polite though the disdain boiling inside him. She watched him much like a cat would watch a canary, seeming to follow his every move with an intense expression. She drew her bottom lip between her teeth, and Daniel made a point to look away from her any time her expression grew too extreme. He couldn't reason how she could be so callous in front of her son, let alone eyeing him like he was some slab of meat. Didn't she know he was spoken for? Couldn't she tell he was hurting?

  It did little good to blame the woman for her more primal desires, however, and he simply continued to ignore her while going through the usual routine with her son. The boy’s eyes widened upon seeing the needles that his vaccines would be administered through. Daniel smiled kindly, reaching out to rest a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

  “You gotta be strong, alright little man?” Daniel murmured. The boy hesitated, meeting Daniel’s gaze earnestly. For a moment, the older man felt like a sham. How could he tell this child to remain strong when he was doing just the opposite? If a grown man could not sort out his fears, how did he expect a little boy to? His expression nearly crumpled as tears pricked the boy’s eyes, and he was shaken from his reverie by a derisive snort from his mother.

  “He’s always been such a crybaby. Takes after his father. Serves me right for not finding a real man,” she bullied. The boy choked out a cry, and Daniel narrowed his eyes before wheeling around to face the woman.

  “A real man? A real man, huh? So when you look at me like a hunk of meat, you think I’m a real man? You think I don’t have silly emotions like sadness or fear?” His voice cracked as it increased in volume, and the woman looked more than mildly taken aback by the outburst. Daniel realized that tears were spilling down his cheeks, but he refused to acknowledge them. He simply turned his back to the woman, smiling at her son. “A real man knows how to feel. A real man doesn’t pretend to be made of stone,” he murmured to the boy. He pricked the boy with the shot, and the two shed tears for entirely different reasons. Once the vaccines were given, he drew away and placed a small bandage on the boy’s arm. He turned to consider the boy’s mother, who was staring at him as if she had been struck.

  “I-I’m sorry,” she began, and he managed a pained smile.

  “Your husband is a far better man than me, ma’am. If he tells you even once how much he loves you…,” he trailed off, shaking off the tears. “Take care, Billy,” he managed weakly, slipping out of the room. He rushed to his office, all but collapsing into his chair. He hunched over the desk, desperate sobs spilling past his lips. He had been doing so well, but it seemed even the smallest thing could remind him of how wrongly he had treated Tiffany. His failings were growing increasingly apparent with every given day, and he could only hope he would have the opportunity to right his wrongs.

  He was drawn from his reverie when his phone vibrated and jingled the familiar tune he had assigned his sister. He breathed a sigh, wondering what she could need. He grabbed his phone, swiping the screen to reveal the message.

  "SOS."

  A simple three letters were all the message read, but it seemed that even such a short message was enough to make Daniel’s heart stop. He gasped for air, leaping to his feet unthinkingly. His nurse peeked into his office, looking surprised to see the state he was in. He choked out a sob, his mind racing with all the painful possibilities behind the message. Certainly he was overreacting. Certainly Tiffany was fine. However, the grim reality of the situation washed over him all too unpleasantly. As the nurse had callously informed him, it was only a matter of time before she slipped away; every passing day was just drawing her closer to death. An anguished sob tore past his lips, and he felt his nurse draw closer. For what? To comfort him? Couldn’t she see how unfathomable that was? He edged past her, dodging her reaching hands.

  “I have to leave! Get my shift covered,” he blurted, racing towards the door.

  “Doctor Brookes, what on Earth,” she called out after him, but he paid her very little mind. He sped through the doctor’s office, the world seeming to spin all around him. Was he going mad? Was this true devastation the final blow it would take to drive him to insanity?

  He had to get to the hospital. He knew he was in no shape to drive; God, he could barely see a foot ahead of him through his tears. He should call someone, that much was evident, but who was there? He could not burden his ex-wife any more than he already had, and he couldn’t bear for his young daughter to see him in such poor shape. It would be hard enough to break the news to her. The news…

  Daniel lurched forward, yanking open the driver’s side door and stumbling into his seat. He thought not to bother with the seatbelt, his recklessness already reaching previously unseen levels. He turned the key
in the ignition, blinking into the sunlight that filtered through his windshield. His eyes were almost sore from the amount of tears he had shed, and he continuously had to draw his hand away from the steering wheel to wipe the tears from his eyes. It was too sunny. The day was too beautiful. How could it dare be a wonderful day when he was suffering so much agony? How could the sun bear to shine when one of the Earth’s most beautiful creatures had been snatched away?

  The other cars on the highway appeared as little more than furious blobs, and the sounds of horn blaring were only vaguely registering in Daniel’s mind. Distantly, painfully, he wondered if this had been how Tiffany felt before her accident. He debated pulling over, but he had gone too far to stop now. He could not abandon the woman he loved in her time of need, he had to be there. She needed him, he was certain of it. Almost as badly as he needed her. He rubbed his eyes angrily, his skin inflamed from the constant scraping of skin against skin. He realized he was veering into another lane, and a transfer trucker laid down on the horn as he swerved to avoid the head-on collision.

  He pulled to the side of the road, the shouts of the trucker fading into the distance behind him. He rested his head in his hands, muttering softly under his breath.

  “No, no, no. She can’t be gone. This can’t be the end. I have so much to tell her. So much left to do.” He opened his car door, all but spilling into the grass at the side of the road. He turned his face skywards, eyes wide and searching though for what he couldn’t be sure. “God, please!” He cried out to the heavens, clasping his hands in prayer. He ducked his head, sobs wracking his body as he struggled to get the words out. “I know I haven’t been the best guy. I know… I know I’ve not been a good person. I’ve saved lives, but I’ve destroyed them as well. Please, if you’re up there… if you can hear me: don’t take Tiffany away from me. I’ll do anything. She’ll be treated like the princess she deserves to be treated as. I’ll worship the ground she walks on. Just please… don’t take her away. Let her be mine,” he prayed. Belatedly he could only wonder how some omniscient presence would feel about him worshiping a mere human, but that thought was quickly dismissed. To consider Tiffany a ‘mere’ anything wasn’t giving her due justice.

  For a long moment, he simply remained on the side of the road. Cars passed in a blur, and clouds covered the sun. A light drizzle falling from the sky prompted him to get back in his car, shaking off the hysterics as best as he could. He turned the key in the ignition, carefully pulling back into the road. The other cars looked less like formless blobs, and though his heart was still troubled, he knew he could not allow himself to slip into such a reckless state of abandon again. He had a daughter to live for. Tiffany would not want him to abandon his precious child for her sake. He gritted his teeth, feeling a sense of dread settle more heavily over him as he grew nearer the hospital. He turned into the emergency garage, cursing loudly at the lack of parking spaces. The local emergency rooms usually never had enough visitors, but today was an exception. He managed to find a parking spot furthest from the elevator at the top of the garage. While he was in exceptionally decent shape, the breakdown he’d had scarce moments earlier had taken considerable energy out of him. He had no time to stop and consider his own discomfort, however.

  Tiffany was waiting for him, one way or another.

  Daniel walked briskly to the elevator, nearly gasping for breath by the time he reached it. He noted a paper note on the front of the doors, and nearly sobbed at the words scrawled across it.

  “Out of Order.”

  He drew away from the elevator, turning to the concrete stairs that led to the ground floor of the garage compound. His feet pounded harshly against the concrete, each step sending painful jolts through his ankle. He didn't slow, even as he nearly buckled from the ache in his legs. Once he reached the bottom floor, he tapped into his deepest reserves to, somehow, find it within himself to close the distance from the garage to the actual hospital. The rain was beginning to fall more heavily, and he jogged to the emergency room entrance, soaked by the time he got through the door. He gasped for breath, not pausing even as the nurse at the front desk asked if he was okay. She called after him, and he realized he would likely have security called on him if he didn't wait. At this moment, however, he couldn't find it within him to care. He darted down the halls, racing towards Tiffany's room. He could hear voices calling his name, calling for him to stop, but he had made it so far! It was just a few more feet until he reached Tiffany's room, and he would know. He would know, have some sense of finality, some way to move on in his life. However, as he came to a stop in front of the door, his heart felt as if it dropped into his stomach as he peeked into the room.

  No tubes.

  No steady and reassuring beep of the heart rate monitor.

  The bed was empty.

  In that moment, he was certain he had never been more devastated in his life. The world spun around him, and he choked out gasping sobs as he clutched the doorframe.

  He had so much left to tell Tiffany. Had Danielle pulled the plug before he had made it to the hospital? Did she even have that authority? Perhaps Tiffany had simply slipped away, a peaceful departing from this world. All the same, these thoughts did little to comfort him. All he knew was that he was too late.

  Too late.

  He felt someone drawing near, more than he saw it. A delicate hand rested upon his shoulder, and he glanced up to see the familiar face of the nurse who had suggested he take Tiffany off life support. His breath caught in his throat, and her eyes widened in surprise as the broken man threw his arms around her waist, sobbing into her stomach. She gently rested a hand on his head, clearly unsure of what to do.

  “What happened?” Daniel managed to choke out, refusing to draw away from the woman. She hesitated, and he hand stilled atop his head.

  “While you were gone, your sister decided--” she began, but she was cut off by an anguished cry. Daniel stumbled away from the woman, bolting to his feet and taking a hesitant step back. The woman stepped towards him, concern shining in her gaze as she drew nearer. “Doctor Brookes, if you would let me explain,” she tried to continue, but all at once, Daniel knew he did not want to hear anything the nurse had to say. He bolted down the hall, his legs throbbing with a dull ache, his eyes wide and unseeing. He had no idea where he was going, and again, those familiar voices called after him. It was no matter. He needed to escape. He had to get away somehow, away from the pure and unadulterated agony of the situation. He found himself racing through the hospital halls, dodging rolling hospital beds, avoiding the occasional security guard who made a half-hearted effort to catch him. Once he was outside the hospital, having walked through a maze of corridors, he found himself in the meditation garden. He dropped to his knees, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up with him. He could hear the soft bubbling of a fountain within the gardens, and managed to drag himself to his feet. He stumbled towards the sound, listening to the gentle murmuring of the patient’s families who had also made their way out to the garden. He slumped onto a stone bench, watching as a wheelchair bound woman flipped a coin into the fountain. He watched her with vague interest, inexplicably wondering what she might be wishing. He closed his eyes, resting his head in his hands for a long moment.

  “Danny?” A familiar voice called out, and he opened his eyes just in time to see his sister meandering towards him with a casual expression. Too casual, unacceptably casual for what had happened. He lurched to his feet, stumbling forward slightly before catching himself.

  “How could you?” He blurted, tears springing to his eyes once more. Danielle tilted her head, crossing her arms over her chest. She appeared only vaguely interested in him.

  “What are you on about? What took you so long here to get here? I swear to god, people died in the time it took you to arrive.”

  His eyes widened at her inexplicable good humor. He had to fight the desire to strike his sister, feeling sheer hatred for the first time in his life. He parted his lips
to speak, but Danielle seemed unaware of his grief fueled rage, turning her back on him and slipping back to the fountain.

  “Don’t you walk away from me,” he shouted, disrupting the peace of the meditation garden. Danielle glanced over her shoulder, quirking a curious brow.

  "Jeez Daniel. For someone who's girlfriend just came out of a coma, you are cranky," the woman mused aloud.

  “And loud,” the woman in the wheelchair groaned, resting her head in her palm. He thought to curse the both, but then the actual contents of Danielle’s previous statement processed in his brain. His eyes widened, and he realized all too slowly that the voice of the wheelchair bound woman was strikingly familiar.

  “... T-Tiffany?” He inquired weakly, and Danielle rolled her eyes, reaching to turn the wheelchair so the two could face each other. Tiffany’s expression was weak, but she looked thrilled to see Daniel just the same. She offered him a gentle smile, and his breath caught in his throat. He lurched forward, dropping to his knees in front of her and grabbing her by the hand.

  “You’re alive,” he managed weakly, tears dripping down his cheeks once more.

  “Just barely.” Tiffany winked, reaching out to caress his cheek.

  He could feel something cool and metallic touch his cheek, and his stomach twisted into knots when he realized she was still wearing her engagement ring. Did she know? Had she heard him?

  Resting his hand atop hers, he met her gaze with some trepidation. She drew her lip between her teeth, looking as adorable as ever. His heart twinged almost painfully in his chest, and he wondered how he had ever questioned his adoration for this perfectly flawed woman. She drew her hand away, looking at the ring with a pensive expression. Daniel felt his sister’s eyes upon them and glanced towards her, jerking his head in the opposite direction. Taking the hint, she slipped away to give the two a moment of privacy.