Like that would ever happen, I chided myself.
But I had to do something. I couldn’t just wait for Ryder to magically see the light and decide to co-operate. I needed help. And I knew just who to call.
I went outside through the back door because I could use the fresh air. My stomach growled at me because I hadn't actually eaten yet. I had been too anxious to when the patient himself wouldn’t, but I ignored it. I searched through my contacts for the number and placed the call.
“Hello?” came a deep, brusque voice.
“Hey, Michael,” I answered, my hand tightening around the phone, the other clutching onto my top. “This is Alexis. I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time.”
“Oh, hey!” His voice brightened. “No, I’m free right now, just going through some paperwork. What do you need?”
I took a deep breath, and let it out in a gust. Michael was a doctor friend of mine, very different from a lot of the doctors I’d met since I got into nursing. One of the nicest, and if there were anyone I would go to help, it would be him. He was hot, too; if only he weren't a decade older than me, I might have considered dating him. Other than that, we were just somewhat friends that spoke and met on occasion.
Though, now that I was out of the hospital, we’d probably meet a lot less.
“I’ve been having a bit of trouble,” I admitted. “And I was wondering if you could help me.”
He hummed. “Whatever you’d like, Alexis. Is it about a patient? I heard you left the hospital, though…”
I rolled my eyes. Of course, he’d heard. Noir, the bitch, probably circled it around to warn the other nurses into conforming to her rules. Or to scare them, I could never tell with her.
“I’m serving as a private nurse at the moment. This patient is…difficult. Like, extremely. I don’t know what to do for him anymore, and I don’t want to quit, but he’s not even eating, and he sleeps all the time…”
“Whoa, slow down,” Michael said, his tone turning serious. “I can barely understand what you’re saying, Alexis.”
I took another deep breath, and slowly explained everything. Well, not everything; I didn’t tell him who Ryder was or our relationship. But I mentioned the accident, his surgeries, being moved home and how his recovery was going.
“To be honest, I don’t think he even will recover! I can't tell if he wants to or not. He doesn’t eat; he tries moving on his own, but something is blocking him. Sometimes his hand moves or he moves a leg, but it’s like he does it unconsciously, so when he tries to do it, it doesn’t happen and he just gives up. He's so difficult, and it’s like I can see him wasting away because he’s not even trying to recover!”
I was breathing hard by the time I stopped ranting. My free hand was clenched so tightly; my nails dug into my palm. I calmed down as Michael stayed silent on the other end of the line. When my breathing was steadied again, he spoke.
“There’s not much I can do to help you, to be honest,” he said honestly.
My shoulders slumped, head falling forward as my eyes slid closed. “So, is there anything that I can do? I’ll take anything at this point, Michael.”
“Well,” he started slowly. “The only thing you can do is wait. You can't force him, after all. If things get bad, though, you’ll want to bring his doctor in. If he doesn't eat or drink anything, they’ll probably put him on an IV with all the nutrients his body isn’t getting. If he wants to recover, though, he’s going to need to want to do it. There’ll probably be physiotherapy at some point, and that is always a bitch.”
I wrinkled my nose. I’d heard stories from other nurses about patients going through physiotherapy. It could be good, or it could be bad. With Ryder, he’d likely be an even worse patient than he was already.
“Maybe… I’m not cut out for this,” I mused.
“Don’t think that way, Alexis,” Michael said, soft voice chiding. “You can't let what’s happened so far get to you. I know it’s not easy, but when the guy gets his head out of his ass, he’ll probably thank you for it. Stick around, don’t give up. Don’t be afraid to be a little forceful; you don’t need to baby him, just be firm.”
I smiled, a little tired, but with some spark of hope. I could have laughed because he said ‘don’t baby him,’ when Ryder himself had requested it not that long ago. But mostly, I was just so fucking relieved to get some piece of advice on this. Even if it didn’t pan out, though I had a feeling it would, Michael at least gave me the push I needed to not back down this time.
“Thanks for the speech, Michael. I think I know what to do now.”
16
Ryder
I woke up coughing; there was something in my mouth. I turned to the side, and Alexis was sitting in a chair like she was Florence Nightingale or something watching me. I tried to speak, move my head, but I couldn’t. All I could do was wait for her to look at me, as she sat directly opposite me in a small armchair. I didn’t remember that being in the room before.
“Good, you’re awake.” She sighed as she came closer to the bed.
Yes, I was fucking awake, but I couldn’t speak and worst of all I couldn’t even move.
“Okay, don’t get excited.”
I was trying to move, but couldn’t. There was something down my throat, and she was telling me not to get excited. It was almost the same as leaving a room full of candy in a room and telling a child not to take any.
“I had to call your doctor. They came round while you were sleeping. Blink twice if you understand me.” She shifted from side to side as she spoke.
I wanted to fucking move. Not blink. But seeing as that was not an option, I just blinked.
“You went unconscious for more than a day, Ryder. I told them you weren’t eating, so that is why there was a tube down your throat. Also, your lungs were collapsing, so there is oxygen in your nose to help you breathe. It’s my job to see that you live. I’m not going to let you starve yourself.”
She meant so I wouldn’t commit suicide by starvation. I wanted to ask her what else she’d said to the doctor.
Why does she even care?
And most of all, why won’t she let me go?
I was just a burden to everyone, most of all myself. She had no reason to decide to keep my fucked-up life going when she knew blatantly well that I had decided the complete opposite. Nothing had been accomplished since I’d come home, I’d gotten worse. Doctor Miller had said that I would start being able to move after a few weeks, but as she described it, I was getting worse, not better.
“When your dad gets back, we will figure out what other nurses to hire for you and how to get you back on the road to recovery. I don’t think I am the one qualified to be here with you.”
She avoided my eyes. I couldn’t make out what she was doing, all I could do was hear her voice as she spoke. Sometimes she mumbled, and I could just about make out the words. Other times she said it so loud that I could hear her clearly above the monitor.
“The doctor said the same. That you were a lot stronger when you left, so I have to assume it’s me.”
She came in front of me. I could see her eyes were tired. I didn’t want her to leave. I knew that. I tried to convince her to stay with a blink, but it was hard to communicate with the damn tube down my throat. And that was when I looked at the window. At least a whole day had passed—it was broad daylight. I wondered what she said to my dad. Did she tell him about my attempt at suicide by starvation and he left anyway?
There were so many questions running through my head, and I wondered if I would have asked them if I didn’t have the tube down my throat.
I was a burden to everyone. The few people that had tried to care, I’d shit on. Jake’s words ran through my mind. He’d come by to see me, and I’d been an ass. His parting words had been, “If you aren’t going to take this seriously, Ryder, then we don’t want you on the team anymore. It’s your life, if you want to throw it away, then we aren’t going to be a part of it.”
Wh
en I’d first joined the team we’d been partners in crime. Jake was the team captain, and I was the quarterback. Both of us being from Illinois had created a weird bond. We’d formed a friendship from the start, until he found love and my love of drugs grew. God knows how I played for as long as I did. At times, I could hardly walk. I’d bribe the docs to say that I had a fake injury, and it was easy at first. But then word got around about the doc, and a new one was hired for the team. I got sober again, for a while…
My mind turned once again to my previous mistakes. The girl. I had apparently gotten reckless, because I’d supposedly gone to a bar and picked up that chick. I’d brought her back to my room. She’d said she was a fan. The thing was, I still couldn’t even remember the name of the fucking bar, let alone her name or if I even touched her. There were pictures, but they were grainy, and they kind of looked like me, but I couldn’t be sure enough to say they weren’t.
She’d said we had sex and that she had pictures. At first I thought it was some joke, a prank. But then she tried to blackmail me. And well, we all know how that turned out.
Jake had defended me, I remember that.
He’d said, “I think something happened. He had been clean for years. All I know is I caught him leaving the hotel. He could hardly fucking speak. How the hell did he have sex with this girl in some motel? It’s a fucking set-up.”
They were right, it had been a set-up, those pictures didn’t get taken by me. She’d planned it. I’d had enough bad press to be vulnerable to such shit. After all, it wasn’t the first time I’d been accused of something, but this time I hadn’t done it on purpose.
Jake had said, “Give him one more chance, Coach, and if he fucks up, I will take responsibility.” He’d had my back.
I took it for granted.
Now here I lay, after my latest fuck up, and he’d finally deserted me.
This was my punishment.
This was my fate.
I just had to live with it, whether I liked it or not.
The next few weeks were a blur. I was so drugged up that I only understood some of what Alexis was saying some of the time, but at least she was still there. Still helping me. The day the ventilator was removed and I was no longer fed through a tube, was when I became more clear about my surroundings. It felt good that I could have an actual conversation with her. I needed to tell her something.
God, for the first time in a long time, I felt grateful.
My dad had been in a few times and spoken to me, but it was hard to have a conversation with that tube, so I was excited to have it come out. Life would be what I would make it. But as I sat up on the bed, I began to wonder what that all meant.
“I’m up,” I croaked.
Alexis was hovering over me, and my words startled her.
She laughed. “I thought you were sleeping. It has been a while since you spoke.”
I shook my head, my hand going to my throat. It was a bit painful, but I was relieved that I had some movement in my body. I choked, “I can move my hand.”
She smiled. “You can do a lot more than that if you want.”
I took her up on her offer and started to move my hands, then my arms up into the air and down again. It was a bit painful, but as I raised my head to see if this was a dream or something, I noticed that there was a definite improvement.
Dad walked to the other side of the bed. I hadn’t noticed that he was in the room. “Son, it’s so good to see that you are getting better. Maybe by Christmas, you can join us at the table.”
“Christmas?” I whispered. Had it been that long since I was properly conscious? It felt like only the other day I was trying to starve myself to death, and Alexis had stopped me by calling the doctor. I turned and looked at Alexis. Her hair was a few inches longer. She seemed to have lost weight; her polo shirt did not cling to her body, but seemed a bit baggy. I hated to think what I looked like in the mirror. I raised my hand to my chin. I was clean-shaven.
Dad chuckled. “Don’t worry. No son of mine is going to look a mess.”
Alexis moved next to him and said, “Can you believe he has been shaving you and making sure that you look your former self?”
“No, better than your former self,” Dad corrected her and smiled as he took my hand and put it back on the bed. “Rome wasn’t built in a day. Small movements and then we can take it from there.”
“Your dad has been here every day for weeks. We’ve been watching you subconsciously moving, so we know you can do it,” Alexis said with a grin. “Now that you are alert, I think maybe today you should try feeding yourself. What do you think, Ryder?”
Feeding myself. It was almost going back to being a child. I wanted to ask questions, but some things were better left unsaid. I didn’t want to know. I just wanted to get back to feeling normal again.
I smiled and said, “I would like to feed myself. If that is okay?”
A smile appeared on Dad’s face. He looked tired, but happy. Now that I really looked at her, Alexis looked tired too. I knew it was because of me.
“Of course it is,” Dad replied.
I was determined to take my life into my own hands. I had so many flashes and nightmares about my time as a drug addict while I was knocked out. Some of them had felt so real. Like the time I had to play in a game, and I was desperate for a quick sniff. Just something to keep me going. I had run out of my stash and had no access to my supplier. Those times were hard. Knowing the one thing that could get you through the next few hours was not accessible. I nearly killed everyone on the field that day. I was on there for only half an hour, and the coach called me off, calling me a liability to the team and everyone on the field. As I sat on the bench, I grew angry. For no reason—just withdrawal symptoms. I’d wanted to hurt everyone and anyone so badly. I knew the flash of emotion on my face was what brought Dad closer to the bed.
Dad whispered, “As I said, son, one step at a time. Rome wasn’t built in a day.”
He just wanted me to get better. I didn’t understand why he should care. I didn’t deserve his care. He’d tried so hard to put me on the straight and narrow since high school and every time he did, I’d spat the truth back at him, “Well if you hadn’t insisted on marrying a drug addict then none of this would be happening.”
There was only one time he responded, and it cut like a knife when he said it, “You’re right. I fell for the wrong person and it nearly lost me the most important thing in my life. You.”
Maybe now I could be the son that he wanted and that I should have been from the start. He’d warned me to take Alexis’s generosity and not act like a jerk with her the way I had been. I just hoped that evil feeling wouldn’t come back again. The switch that always managed to come on. The one that said fuck you and anyone else that got in my way. This time if it did, I would do the decent thing. Just end it all. This time there would be no one to stop me. Not even Alexis.
17
Alexis
Okay, so here is your lunch. Something simple so that you don’t have trouble raising your fork. Let me know if it is too painful. Okay?”
I moved the tray closer to Ryder. It was a healthy serving of steamed chicken and potatoes with gravy, and though he tried to put up a front, I could see the excitement in his eyes as he stared at the food. I smiled, but straightened my expression before he could see.
It had been several weeks since I’d talked to Michael, and his advice had been spot on. I was firm with Ryder, keeping in mind that he was a patient, and he seemed to be turning around. Not only was he more agreeable, but he was also softer. The glares stopped, though he was still occasionally stubborn. I felt I was finally making headway.
The future is finally looking up, I thought happily. As long as things keep going as they are.
“Eat,” I prompted, nodding for him to pick up his fork. I’d learned my lesson, and sat on the chair beside his bed with my hands on my lap, not trying, or offering, to help.
He eyed me like he was waiting for
me to do just that, and I could tell he was surprised when I didn’t, and I smiled again, but failed to hide it in time. The look he aimed at me when he noticed me smiling was conflicted. He stared at me a moment and then gazed back down at his food as he fisted his hands in his lap. They shook slightly, and I thought about placing a hand over his, before thinking better of it. He was nicer, but he probably wouldn’t appreciate it.
“Alexis, about before…” he started, voice strained, only for his words to trail off.
I tilted my head to the side, wondering what it was he wanted to tell me that had him looking so uneasy. He wouldn’t meet my eyes, and when I leaned closer, he looked off to the side.
Probably apologizing, I decided. He had acted like a total bastard before. The only other thing I could think of was a confession of love.
But then I snorted. I didn’t doubt he would be this nervous if he were.
Still, I didn’t need him to apologize, and he looked like he was having a hard time of it regardless, so I gave him a way out.
“Look, Ryder. I am here to get you back to normal. Maybe even…” I hesitated, but he knew what I wanted to say.
“Walk,” he finished for me.
I nodded. “Yes, but it doesn’t mean that it will happen. I have to be careful what I say to you. I had this problem at the hospital. Giving patients false hope. I am not saying it is false hope! I’m just saying…”
I paused and licked my lip nervously, folding my hands together tightly to stop my fingers from twitching. I knew what I said would affect Ryder, and a bad one. I didn’t want him to just give up like before. Not only would it be hard for me, but it also wouldn't be the right choice for him.
Second Chance Draft Page 7