Bellissimo Rilascio (Beautiful Release): The Family Series #3

by Lunsford, Leigh Ann

  The emergency room is sterile; antiseptic burns my nostrils. I watch as a doctor comes through the doors and calls, “Agosto family.”

  We all stand. United front. Just then Dakota walks in with Gianna, and I watch her face fall from the doctors words. “She’s suffering from intracranial pressure. Her brain is swelling, and unfortunately, the skull doesn’t allow a lot of room for that. We’ve had to start her on several IV’s, and she is being transferred to ICU. Her blood pressure is dropping, and we believe the fluids and medicine will stabilize that. We’ll keep her monitored, and if the pressure increases, we don’t have a choice but to open the skull.”

  “Will she be okay?” Gianna is shaken and holding on to Bronson so she doesn’t collapse.

  “We won’t know anything for the first twenty-four to forty-eight hours. Brain swelling is unpredictable. We do recommend you spend time with her, talk to her. We always like to prepare you.”

  “Jesus,” I mutter.

  I wasted so much time and realized it too late. I want to scratch my skin off, shed the guilt. I close my eyes and breathe, trying to suppress the bile in my throat.

  I see the maroon car.

  I hear the impact.

  I see her body being heaved in the air.

  I hear the screams.

  I see her body stretched in odd angles, her eyes closed, her face serene. Beauty engulfed her broken body.

  “Heath?” Bronson breaks me from my hellish replay.

  “Yeah?” Callie walks up next to me and places her hand on my arm. Her eyes full of unshed tears, her face pale, and her body visibly shaking.

  “We can go up to the ICU floor. Only two in at a time, and they are lifting visiting hours for tonight.”

  I follow him, and Callie’s soft voice fills my ears. “She knew you’d come back. Your faith may have been tested, but hers was strong.”

  I hesitate and turn from her family. Her hand tugs me, and I fight it. I can’t sweep in her room and sit next to her knowing it’s my fault she’s there. If I hadn’t been stubborn and just trusted my heart I would have been next to her and not across the street. She wouldn’t have been that close to the curb. Right now we’d be at a reception, her in my arms. “Don’t do this. Not now,” Callie pleads with me.

  I continue the jaunt to the ICU, and there’s some discussion about who goes in first and who stays where. “It isn’t about us. It’s about her. We can all take turns, but she’d want him there.” Gianna Agosto is my champion when she should be tossing me to the wolves.

  “You can go in, I’ll wait.” I back towards the corner, I don’t want to be seen right now. My body is shutting down; I’m not strong enough for this.

  I watch Callie and Gianna go into her room, and the door shuts, blocking my view. Dakota and Lisa rush into the waiting room, and I’m instantly angry. My emotions make me feel like I have whiplash. I can’t blame him for everything, and while he makes a good scapegoat, this time it’s my fault. I distance myself further from them; everything in my psyche wants to flee, yet my heart demands I stay.

  Gianna exits the room, and Bronson immediately goes to her side. She’s not weeping, but looks crestfallen. She moves from his arms, “Callie won’t leave right now. Go be with her and your sister. I need to sit down for a few minutes.”

  She takes the seat closest to my corner, and she allows me solitude for a few moments. “Do you pray, Heath?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Now is the time.” I clench my hands in fists with that warning. She can’t be telling me what I think she is. Bianca can’t lose this battle. “I’m going to the chapel if you want to join me.”

  I don’t. If I start praying that’s admitting there is a reason, and I know she’ll be fine. She goes to Dakota and Lisa and they follow her. Bronson comes back and searches for them.

  “Dakota and Lisa took your mom to the chapel. Is everything okay?”

  “No.” His body sags in defeat. “Callie is still in there, won’t leave her side, but I can’t.”

  “She needs you.”

  “She’s not even present. Wires everywhere. A machine breathing for her. Fuck.” His voice cracks along with his composure. “That’s my sister in there.”

  “That’s my world.”

  “Then go hang onto it. Go save her, please.” He covers his face with his hands, and the sounds emitting from his body send shivers through me. I watch him crumble not able to offer him comfort. The elevators open, and Dakota steps off with coffee, and I take the first steps towards her room.

  Nothing can prepare you for this scene. Callie has her head pressed against Bianca’s shoulder, her hand stroking her forearm. Soothing her . . . from what I’m unsure. The room feels vacant, yet it’s full of machines and monitors. Each beeping and hissing, making its presence known. Probes are placed around her head, needles on every surface of her hands, a tube down her throat, an oxygen mask over her nose, the top of her hospital gown exposed for leads on her chest, a blood pressure cuff squeezes her arm. Somewhere under all that is Bianca. As I get closer, I see her eyelids, and I beg for her to open them. I take her hand, pleading for her to wrap her fingers with mine.

  I remember the look she had on her face when she saw me, the way she playfully blew me a kiss before our world detonated. Demolished in seconds. The nurses come in and check all the numbers, make notations, and leave me with Callie and Bianca. “She’s gonna be okay.” Callie has an edge of defiance to her voice.

  “She is,” I agree.

  “She’s fought so hard . . . it isn’t fair.”

  “It isn’t.”

  “I’m mad at you, but I know if she could, she’d kick my ass for saying that.”

  “She would.” I smile.

  “You abandoned her.”

  “I know.”

  “Are you back for good?”

  “If she’ll have me.”

  “She will.”

  “Yeah, she will.” We sit vigilantly by her side for hours. Callie dozes off, and I take this opportunity to talk to Bianca. “Beautiful, I’m sorry. I need you to wake up. I can’t do this without you. I need you to forgive me. I was an asshole.” Monitors flash red and scream in alarm. Callie’s head snaps up, her eyes filled with terror. The door flies open, and people are everywhere.

  “Pressure rising. It’s at twenty-nine and rising. Stat OR.” Her bed is pulled from our hands, machines unplugged and following her. A nurse climbs on her bed manually ventilating her, and Callie and I are standing in the empty room.

  I sink to the floor, screaming incoherently. Everyone else rushes in her room, and a nurse follows. “Her pressure spiked meaning the swelling is increasing. It has to be relieved right away if there is any chance to save her. She has been taken to the operating room.”

  “What does this mean?” Gianna cries.

  “The doctors will drill to create a hole in her skull to drain fluid, but they may have to open the skull if the swelling doesn’t abate.”

  “How long?” Bronson is leaning against the wall for support.

  “Hours. I can’t tell you an exact timeframe, but as soon as we know something we’ll come get you.”

  She leaves the room, and everyone goes to follow her. “I’m staying in here.” I need to be the last place she was. Gianna nods, and I’m alone.

  I stay kneeling and begin praying, “Father, please save her. She’s innocent. I made her walk to the curb. That car didn’t stop. It doesn’t make sense. Just save her. I love her. She loves me, and we’re good people. Sure, we’ve made mistakes, but just save her. Please.” That is probably the shittiest prayer on Earth but I can’t think.

  I pace the room, watch the clock. Finally, I go the nurse’s station. “Do you have any news on Bianca Agosto?” She checks the computer and informs me that there are no updates. I go back to the room and pace and watch the clock again. After the third time of asking the nurse, I’m crazy. I punch the hospital wall, wailing in anger.

  “You look like a crazy per
son.” Callie has come back.

  “I feel like one.”

  “You’re about to crawl out of your skin. Want to say a prayer with me?”

  I nod, and she walks to me and grabs my hand, bows her head and prays for her best friend . . . my best friend.

  Chapter Thirty

  Bianca

  I saw him. He came back. Now I have nothing. Blackness invades, and I can’t find the light.

  I can’t hear.

  I can’t feel.

  I know there was some sort of accident; I heard the sounds of an engine, but I didn’t feel the impact, and now I’m trapped. I know I’m not dead. Heaven is filled with cherub angels with wings, pearly gates . . . an ethereal place, according to my Sunday school teacher.

  I thought I heard his voice, apologizing to me . . . then nothing. I’m beginning to think I dreamt it.

  This must be the space between.

  Life and death.

  I choose life.

  I choose him.

  Our relationship hasn’t been easy. It hasn’t always worked, but I can say it’s been consistent. We are all flawed, damaged, weak . . . but with that other person, those elements of us fade, and we become perfect, unmarred, strong . . . but only with that person.

  The thing about love is that it’s never the same. It evolves from immature to lifelong. The stages in between aren’t what necessarily matter. Love in each stage gives you something you need. The word love isn’t always explainable; the feeling you get when you experience it. Passion, disappointment, fulfillment . . . and freedom.

  If you’re lucky enough, like Callie and Bronson, your first love is THE love. The one that surpasses all hurdles and nurtures each of you along the journey. But, I’m pretty lucky myself. I’ve been in love with two men in my life: Dakota and Heath.

  Each different but each true.

  Dakota was my first love, and it’s human nature to wonder what if.

  What if he was different?

  What if I wasn’t so difficult?

  What if we made it?

  I did that for a while, and I lost the man who makes my life fuller. I can’t imagine my life without Heath. That doesn’t discount what I had with Dakota; it just means when our love evolved, our growth surpassed the capsule of our love. It spilled over and ran dry. We grew all we could with one another, and instead of sticking it out and making monumental sacrifices, we let go.

  The love is different for each of us.

  It can be fleeting or everlasting.

  It can come quick or build up.

  It can end or it can grow.

  I think when you’re with the right person, you fall in love over and over. Each path in life is another chance to fall in love, and that feeling is indescribable. What I needed at fifteen isn’t what I need at twenty-five. Not even close. And there is nobody else that can give me what I need besides Heath.

  If you love many times in your life, you’re lucky. With different people or the same partner it doesn’t discount each time you experience it.

  Falling is scary.

  Landing is euphoric.

  Falling is everything.

  Landing is love.

  That’s how I see it. Leap, fall, and land. You’ll get bumps and bruises during the voyage, those heal. Loneliness doesn’t. Everyone should experience love . . . multiple times. And if you’re with the partner you’re meant to be with . . . you will.

  I fall in love with him every day.

  He continues to catch me.

  Now if I could figure out where I’m at in this transition, I could tell him. He knows it, but sometimes we all need reassurances.

  I don’t know how long I’ll be here, but I know I’m not going towards the light willingly. I have overcome way too much to stop taking this world by storm now.

  Not sure if it’s a different day, week, month . . . hell it could be a different year, but I’m getting my hearing back. I hear beeping, voices, and I can feel touches on my body, but I still can’t decipher them all.

  My hand is grasped, words are spoken, but I can’t understand them. I don’t like them. I try to fight. I pull my hand away, but it won’t move. Let me go.

  A touch I know takes my other hand.

  I stop fighting.

  I surrender to this in-between I have been stuck in.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Dakota

  Her skin blends in with the white sheets on the bed. Her normal color faded. I’ve avoided coming in the room when Heath is here, trying to be respectful to him, but avoiding him for three weeks has been tough.

  Twenty-one days since we almost lost her . . . twice. The swelling is gone so, for the time being, it’s a waiting game. Her brain has to heal itself, but she’s breathing without the ventilator and showing improvement every day. I’ll give it to the guy…he hasn’t left her side.

  I step in the room with Lisa prodding me. His head snaps to my direction, and instant dissatisfaction is written there. This is going to have to end because it’s not fair to Bianca. “Do you want me to come back later?”

  “It’s fine.” He stands and walks to the other side of the room.

  “Any change?”

  “No.”

  “This isn’t the place, but if you need to say something to me, get something off your chest, we can go somewhere else.”

  “I’m good.” He’s a liar and not a good one.

  “I don’t think you are,” Lisa, my peacemaker, speaks up.

  “No, I’m not, but I’m trying to be. You’re a hard pill to swallow.” His eyes don’t waver from my stare.

  “Our past? That fact that she once loved me?”

  “All of it and the way you tossed her aside. You hurt her, and that doesn’t work for me.”

  “I’ve never denied that. I fucked up, but our past made us who we are now. I learned a lot from my mistakes, I’m able to give Lisa everything she deserves. I couldn’t do that with her.”

  “I’m not buying that.”

  “It’s true. Their relationship may not be something you understand, but it doesn’t belittle what was theirs. I don’t understand it because I couldn’t imagine letting him go. Just like you can’t imagine letting her go. So what doesn’t make sense for us worked for them.” Lisa’s voice is soft, like she’s trying not to let Bianca hear.

  “Man, I get where you’re coming from, but can’t you just be thankful you have her? Let it all go. Forge a new beginning.”

  “I’m trying. I was the other person in that relationship for a long time.”

  “No, you weren’t. The day she saw you again, you were it for her, but she ran from it. She didn’t understand it because she didn’t have that with me.”

  “I always felt second to you.”

  “You were second to what she thought we were supposed to be; not what we were. We watched Callie and Bronson fall in love, have it ripped from them, and then come back together. They were in love. We were in love. We didn’t know that it doesn’t always work. We weren’t ready to admit that it’s okay if it doesn’t.”

  “And you just want to be her friend?”

  I pull Lisa to my side. “Just her friend. I was her friend first and want to be her friend last. He nods. I continue. “And really you should be thanking me, she was a pain in the ass during her teenage years.”

  “Have you spent much time with her lately?” I chuckle, thinking of all her antics.

  “Guys, while I’m thankful for the bonding, I don’t think you should talk about her like that. She might be able to hear.” Lisa will come to learn Bianca can take it and dish it.

  “She’d be fine, baby. She’d have some comment back for us.” I step closer and take Bianca’s hand. Her monitors beep a few times, and I watch her heart rate accelerate. I think I feel her pulling back, so I try to comfort her. “It’s okay, Binks. We’re all waiting on you to wake up.”

  Heath steps to the other side of her and takes her other hand, and immediately the beeping stops and her heart
rate calms. I smirk at him. “I never had a chance against you.” I watch him stare down at her, love evident on his face, worry etched in his features. “You know she’s going to be fine?”

  “Yeah,” he whispers.

  Chapter Thirty-Two