For the Love of Raindrops

by Beth Michele

  He blows out a breath as if steeling himself for his next words. “It was a drunk driver, Dylan. He didn’t have his lights on and he ended up wrapping his car around a pole a block away. You both could have been killed.”

  “No.” I stare at the patterns of dust in the air, seeing only Evie’s face. “I-I pushed her and… s-she hit her head.”

  “No, Dylan.” His features are set in hard determination. “You saved her. But….”

  “But what?”

  He stops abruptly, gripping a handful of his hair. “Listen,” he pauses, staring down at the ground before meeting my gaze. “Evie suffered a brain contusion last night, and—”

  “What the hell is that?”

  “From the fall, when she hit her head. She had some bleeding on the brain, Dylan, so they had to do an emergency surgery to relieve the pressure.”

  My heart starts to pound, the only words making it through are bleeding, and brain, and surgery. Dizziness shakes my balance and I grab on to Jordy as we step off the elevator. The dire expression on his face makes my stomach lurch.

  “She’s unconscious right now, and, I just want you to be prepared. She doesn’t look like herself.”

  “Oh shit. I think I’m gonna be sick. I need the bathroom, Jordy.”

  He rushes me down the hall to the nearest bathroom. As soon as the door closes, I drop to the floor and vomit in the toilet. The acidic substance trickles down my chin but I don’t have the strength to wipe my mouth. I don’t even care. I’m empty inside, staring at the red between my fingers, seeing Evie’s smiling eyes right before I pushed her. She looked so happy. I rub the pads of my fingers together, still feeling warm blood dripping onto them, pooling under her head. My stomach roils and I shove my face in the toilet, heaving again. I don’t know how long I’m in here before Jordy knocks on the door.

  “You okay, Dylan?”

  I want to tell him that I’m not important. It’s Evie. She’s the only one who matters. And she just has to be okay. Because I can’t live without her—I don’t even think I’d want to try.

  “I’ll be right out.” I push off the dirty tile and get to the sink, splashing some cold water on my face. There’s a stack of paper towels on a nearby table, and I grab one to pat my mouth. When I open the door, Jordy is leaning against the wall, hands buried in his pockets, concern evident in his eyes.

  “You all right?”

  All I can do is nod. Because anything I say would be a lie.

  Jordy lets me go after checking in with the ICU nurse. I stretch my neck and take a deep breath. I’m not sure why I do it, as though anything could prepare me for this—for what life has decided to throw my way now.

  The double glass doors open and my legs immediately fold in on themselves. Not because they give out on me—but because my heart does.

  Evie.

  I can’t breathe.

  It’s as if someone has reached into my chest and stolen the best part of me. The little girl who showed me how to live, how to love, is now lying motionless on the bed, her hands folded in front of her as if in prayer, cheeks pale and chalky. Her head is wrapped in white gauze making the blackened bruise on the left side of her face stand out. Tubes protrude from her nose, her arms, her mouth. The faint beeping of a monitor is deafening to my ears. Nausea sweeps through me and I think I might be sick again.

  I thought I knew what pain was, but I was wrong. This is the worst kind of pain. It’s unbearable, like a long blade slicing through my organs, slow and agonizing. I should be the one in that bed, not Evie. She doesn’t deserve this.

  Tears slide roughly down my cheeks and I cover my face with my hands. Other than the passing of Evie’s parents, and my grandfather, I don’t remember ever feeling anything worthy of shedding a tear. Not when my father left, and not even when my mother died.

  But this, seeing Evie lying there, so helpless, so opposite of who she is… makes me think about how life can be incredibly cruel. She looks so fragile and my heart is breaking in too many pieces to count.

  Clearing the wetness from my face with the back of my hand, I attempt to pull myself together long enough to take a seat in the chair beside her bed. But it’s not close enough. I want to crawl next to her and wrap my arms around her frail body, hold her against my chest, let her feel my heart. Maybe I can breathe life into her—so she’ll wake up.

  Please wake up, Evie.

  Instead, I take her hand and press it against my cheek. It’s cold to the touch.

  “I love you, Evie,” I whisper, “I love you so much. I understand if you’re tired and want to rest right now, but I need you to come back to me, okay? I can’t be in this life without you. We’re a team, you and me, remember? You’re my other half.”

  I kiss her fingers over and over then cling to her hand as if it’s my lifeline. “There’s no us without you. And I want there to be an us, Evie. Forever.” I drape my body over her legs, never letting go of her hand and unable to stop the onslaught of tears that continue to fall.

  “Dylan.” Zoey’s voice shocks me and I lift my chin to bloodshot eyes, wrinkled clothes, and a mess of hair sticking out in all directions. She rounds the bed to where I’m sitting and I stand up, startled when she throws her arms around me and begins to sob.

  Extraordinary circumstances bring out sides of people that you wouldn’t normally see. This is especially true in Zoey’s case. She’s someone who tends to tuck away her emotions. Even though I’m not used to her being this way, I embrace her, because I know this is what she needs right now.

  “Dylan, I’m so scared,” her words are choppy, “I can’t lose her, too.”

  I want to be strong for Zoey, but I’m not sure it’s possible. I don’t think I can even be strong for myself.

  She lets me go, sitting down quickly as if she needs the chair to keep her steady. I drag another seat over so we’re side-by-side. Neither of us says anything for a while, both lost in our own thoughts. Inside, though, fragments of me are falling away, scattering all around like broken pieces of a puzzle.

  Every single memory I have of Evie is playing through my mind—the story of our life together. And I refuse to believe it’s over.

  It can’t be. It was just beginning.

  “Everyone’s here. In the waiting room,” she tells me, emotion straining her voice. “Braden, Nora, Wanda. Even Nora’s mom was here earlier and so were Braden’s parents.”

  I nod, grateful for the people I now call my family. I focus on Evie’s face. So many people adore her. “She told me she loved me,” I say in a hushed tone, needing to spill my guts, to Zoey of all people. “I didn’t say it back, because I was waiting for the perfect moment. Why didn’t I say it back?”

  She stares up at me, her eyes wide with pain. “I’m sure she knows, Dylan. Because when it comes to her, you wear your heart on your sleeve.”

  My expression is blank. “You told me she didn’t know.”

  Something that might be classified as a smile lifts the corner of her lips. “I lied,” she shrugs, “for motivation.”

  “Gee, that worked out well.” For a second, we both laugh, but it doesn’t last long before our attention is drawn back to Evie. “She looks so peaceful,” I whisper, picking up her hand again and gently stroking the raw skin over her knuckles.

  “What happened, Dylan?” Zoey probes, but there’s no accusation in her tone. She needs to know, and I understand. “Did the car hit her?”

  “No. It… I…. There were no lights and I, I didn’t see it… until it was almost too late. I shoved her out of the way.”

  She bends her head to catch my eyes. “You saved her then.”

  With a pained sigh, my gaze wanders to Evie’s face. “She doesn’t look saved to me.”

  The sliding doors open at that moment, and our heads turn. A gentleman with dark hair and thickly-framed glasses walks in, a clipboard under his arm. We anxiously rise up and approach him. He offers his hand by way of introduction.

  “I’m Doctor Williamso
n. I performed Evie’s surgery last night and I’ll be attending to her while she’s here. Are you her husband?”

  That has a nice ring to it. I smile a little before the expression dies on my lips. “I’m Dylan, her boyfriend, and,” I place a comforting hand on Zoey’s arm, “this is her sister, Zoey. We’re… all she has.” I glance back over my shoulder before returning to him. “Why isn’t she waking up?”

  “Unfortunately, we don’t know. The surgery went very well and we were able to relieve the pressure, but she’s still unconscious. Now, we just have to wait and see.”

  “Wait and see, what?”

  “I’ll be honest with you. She took a pretty bad fall and there was quite a bit of bleeding to her brain so we won’t know the repercussions of that until she wakes up. But the longer she remains in a comatose state, the lesser her chances of a full recovery.”

  I’m no longer listening to his words. It’s been one day and he’s talking about her like she’s never going to wake up. “Thank you.” I don’t know what I’m thanking him for, but I would like him to stop talking. His voice is grating on my nerves and I don’t want him here.

  “I need the two of you to step out so I can examine her, but as soon as I’m done, you can come back in.” He motions with his hand to a nurse standing just outside the doors. Zoey and I take our cue and head out to the waiting room.

  “I’ll be back in a bit, Dylan. I left in the middle of my shift last night so I need to call work and let them know that I won’t be in for a few days.” Zoey takes off and I continue down the hall.

  All eyes hone in on me as I walk into the waiting room. Nora and Braden are the first to approach, with Braden slapping me on the back and pulling me in for a hug.

  “I’m so fucking glad you’re okay. You scared the shit out of me,” he says, and as I back away from him, my face grief-stricken, his expression shifts. “She’s gonna be okay, man. She’s a tough chick. Don’t forget that. You just gotta keep the faith.” He looks to his left, then to his right. “Wait, did I just fucking say that?”

  “Yeah, you did, bruiser,” Nora chimes in, pushing him aside and taking her turn to hug me. “I’m glad you’re okay, Dylan. I’d like to see Evie. Can I go in? I know they don’t allow a lot of people in there.” She drops her hands and looks up at me. Her eyes are glistening with tears. “I just… need to see her.”

  “The doctor is in with her now, but then go ahead.”

  A few minutes go by and the doctor finally comes out, letting us know there’s been no change but that we may go back in. I let Braden and Nora have some time with her first. Just as Nora is about to walk away, she circles back to me.

  “Here, I brought you these.” She gives me a small smile, sticking a pack of Tic-Tacs in my hand and closing my fingers around them. “I brought some for Evie, too,” she admits, “for when she wakes up.”

  The wetness under her eyes doesn’t match the hopeful lilt of her voice, but I choose hope. I need it desperately. I watch as she catches up with Braden, her multi-colored hair reflecting off the glass as she disappears behind it.

  Jordan and Wanda are next in line and while I’m thankful for everyone being here, I find myself wanting to be alone.

  Wanda wraps her petite arms around me and whispers, “Your girl’s going to be okay. We’re all praying for her.”

  “Thanks, Wanda,” I reply, when something occurs to me. I grip her arms and drift back, appraising her. “What’s going on at the diner? Who’s holding down the fort?” Jordan and Wanda stare at one another.

  “Is anyone gonna share?”

  “Actually,” Jordan is the first to speak up, “Braden’s dad and sister are there, and he brought a few of his employees from the restaurant.”

  “Really?” I only have a second to ponder that before a rush of warmth coats my skin. It’s times like this that remind me that family doesn’t have to be blood. Looking around at all the people who love and support me, my chest swells with emotion. “I’ll be back. I just need a minute, okay?”

  I find a quiet corner and a wall that will hold me up, my brain struggling to absorb all this affection. Accepting attention from other people still isn’t easy for me sometimes. It’s a constant back and forth battle in my head. Am I worthy? Is it real? Even though, somewhere deep down, I know that it is.

  “Dylan.”

  The voice I hear is like a warm embrace, and I turn so I can welcome it.

  “Gran.” And now I no longer want to be alone. It’s strange to think that I need my grandmother, but I do, and I’m not afraid to admit it. I need her in ways that one needs their mother. Because as strange as it may sound, in many ways, that’s what she is to me. I release a breath, finding sanctuary in her arms as she holds them out to me. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  “Where else would I be, dear? Flying monkeys couldn’t keep me away.” I laugh, the vibration softening the pain inside my chest.

  “I think the term is wild horses, Gran. But I can let it slide.”

  She steps back, hazel eyes alight with concern. Taking my hand in hers, she surveys my face. “I only just left here yesterday, and then this… I was so worried when Jordan called me, but now I can see for myself that you’re okay. Tell me, how is your angel?”

  “Not good. She hasn’t woken up yet.” My eyes well up, tears threatening to spill over onto my cheeks. “She can’t leave me, Gran. I don’t know who I am without her, you know? It’s always been her and me.”

  Gran lays a gentle hand on my shoulder. “I know. But she’s strong, and she’s a fighter. She’s going to be okay, dear.”

  “Is she, Gran? Because I don’t know what I’ll do if she’s not. I’ve never pictured my life without her in it, and I’m not so sure I’m prepared to live in a world where I can’t see her smile.”

  “Now you listen to me.” She taps my chin to make sure I’m paying attention. “We’re not going to go there, not unless we are forced to.” Her eyes grow distant, sad almost. “Somehow, Dylan, we find ways to go on, even though it’s the last thing we want to do.”

  Insensitivity pelts me over the head and I wish I could take back my words, knowing she’s thinking about her husband and daughter.

  “But, you’re not going to have to do that. Because that girl in there, she will fight to make it back to you. That’s something I know in my heart.”

  As always, Gran has a way of making me smile. Even when I don’t think there’s anything to smile about. “Thanks, Gran. You always know just what to say.”

  “Eh,” she waves a frivolous hand in the air, “it’s a gift.” She links her arm with mine. “Now, let’s go see that angel of yours. I need to give her a good talking to.”

  The nurse scowls as we walk by, halting us with her glare. “We’d appreciate only having two people in the ICU at a time, if at all possible.” Her acidic tone makes me want to flip her off. Especially when I look through the glass to find that Braden and Nora aren’t even in the room.

  “I wonder what her problem is,” Gran whispers, and I chuckle.

  The automatic doors open as we enter the room and Grandma’s breathing stalls. I’m not sure even she expected to find Evie in this condition.

  “Oh, Dylan.” Her grip on my arm tightens, a lone teardrop fighting its way down her cheek. As she sits down next to the bed, I move behind her, pressing a hand to my heart. But nothing can soothe this pain.

  Gran talks to Evie and I find my way to the window. The sun is shining brightly and I turn away from it, lowering my head as I brace my arms against the frame. It reminds me too much of Evie’s smile. Longing settles like a thick film around my chest, making it hard to breathe.

  “Evie,” I whisper her name like a prayer, “please come back to me.”

  IT’S BEEN FIVE days since I’ve seen Evie smile. The minutes tick by, long days stretch into even longer nights. Loneliness claws at me. I miss her so much it hurts. A physical pain that makes my bones ache, my heart being squeezed and pulled. I’m clinging to
hope by the tiniest thread, clutching it so tightly, yet each day it slips away from me a little bit more.

  The doctors tell us there’s no change, but today they are moving her out of the Intensive Care Unit because she’s gone from critical to stable. All of the tubes have been removed. That seems like a positive, though I don’t hear enthusiasm in their inflection, and it scares me—the fear sliding over my skin until I’m covered in it. It’s as if they have already given up on her. To them, she’s just another patient they have to try to heal. I want to scream at them until my voice is the only one they hear.

  That girl is my whole life.

  Sweat-filled hands clench into fists at my sides. My foot won’t stop bouncing and my knee has joined in on the dance while we wait. I check my watch again. They told me she’d be in her room by three, and it’s now three thirty. Zoey puts her hand on my leg, most likely in an effort to calm my insanity.

  “Dylan. She’ll be here soon. You need to relax.”

  “Don’t tell me to relax, Zoey,” I snap. “She’s been unconscious for five God damned days.” I spring up out of the chair and start pacing the hallway, my anger pounding the floor as I traipse back and forth. “I haven’t been able to hold her for five days. I haven’t been able to look into her beautiful blue eyes for five days.” My speech rises to a shriek. “I haven’t seen her fucking smile in five days!” I collapse back into the chair, my voice a hoarse whisper. “And I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to do those things again.” I finally shift to face her, my eyes pleading. “So, please, please don’t tell me to relax.”

  Zoey bursts into tears, and I feel like the biggest asshole in the world. “I can’t do those things either, Dylan. I may come off like I’m holding it together, but I’m just as scared as you are.”

  I tug on my hair so hard I nearly pull a chunk of it from my head. “I’m so sorry, Zoey. That was really insensitive of me. I-I’m just losing it.” I rest my hand on her back and she leans against my shoulder as fresh tears drench her cheeks. “Shhh… we’ll get through this. It’s gonna be okay.” But my words hold little conviction.