by Amanda Dick
His breath caught in his throat, his heart racing a million miles an hour.
Callum stared at him calmly over the table.
“Well?” Jack urged, desperate to know where he stood.
“You want to make a difference?”
Jack nodded, a sense of dread crawling up his spine.
“You could’ve made a difference if you’d been there when she woke up, after the accident,” Callum said evenly. “Maybe if you’d been the one to tell her that the reason she couldn’t feel her legs wasn’t because of the medication, but because her back was broken, that would’ve made a difference. You could’ve been there with her when she was in rehab for all those weeks, when she just wanted to give up – you could’ve made a difference then. You know what? I can think of at least a hundred separate occasions over the past four years when you could’ve made a difference, Jack, but where were you then? Because you sure as hell weren’t here.”
Jack felt sick to his stomach as Callum continued, quietly but deliberately.
“And what about Tom? Maybe he’d never have had to defend your actions to his friends if you hadn’t left like that. Maybe he wouldn’t have had to step up and make these decisions with Ally because you weren’t here to do it, maybe his life would’ve been a little bit easier if you’d been around to help.”
Jack felt like getting up and walking away, the truth cutting far deeper than he imagined it would. Yet all he could do was sit there as Callum stared at him across the table.
“And what about me, while we’re on the subject? Where the hell were you when I needed you? You just walked away and you left me with all this shit and you didn’t even have the guts to talk to me. Did you ever think about maybe just picking up the damn phone? You brushed me off like I was something stuck to the bottom of your shoe. All I could do was stand by and watch Ally falling apart and there wasn’t a single damn thing I could do about it!”
Callum choked on his words and had to stop for a moment, taking a swig from his beer bottle with a trembling hand. Jack winced as he slammed it back down on the table.
“So do I think you can make a difference here, now? No, I don’t. I think it’s too late for that. We’ve all moved on, Ally included. We’ve adjusted, we’re handling it. We don’t need you. God knows what it is you think you can do to change anything, but go ahead, knock yourself out.” Callum made a sweeping gesture with his hand. “The floor is yours.”
Jack stared at him, dumbfounded.
“One more thing, and I want an honest answer – no bullshit,” Callum continued, sitting forward. “Why’d you leave?”
Too tired to think, Jack obliged, direct from his heart. “I was scared.”
Callum nodded, staring at Jack’s beer bottle for a moment. Then he lifted his gaze to stare directly into Jack’s soul. “You still scared?”
“Terrified.”
“Yet you say you’re gonna stick around. How do you know?” he prodded. “How do you know you’re not just gonna bail again? Tomorrow, or next week, or next month?”
“I won’t.” The words squeezed out from behind clenched teeth, his jaw locked up to try and retain some semblance of control over his emotions.
“Not exactly an Oscar-winning performance.”
Callum took a long pull on the remainder of his beer and stood up, grabbing his jacket from the seat. Jack stared up at him in surprise, watching as he walked out of the bar, the door swinging closed behind him.
Jack stared at the empty seat across from him for several moments. Then he abandoned his beer, got up and followed him.
CHAPTER 10
“There is a space between man’s imagination and man’s attainment that may only be traversed by his longing.”
- Khalil Gibran
Four Years Earlier
Jack followed his Dad and Callum as a nurse led them down the hospital corridor to the ICU. Curtains were drawn around a dozen or so beds, and the whole place smelt like disinfectant. It brought back vivid memories, making Jack sick to his stomach. Ever since his mother’s battle with cancer, he had associated hospitals with death and misery. And from what he could see here, he was perfectly within his rights to do so.
He was an intruder, trespassing in another world. He was stuck in some alternate reality. Back in the real world, he had already dropped Callum off at his place and was down at the river, proposing to Ally. He desperately wanted to get back there, where he felt he belonged.
He didn’t belong here. None of them did, and yet they were trapped.
The room was busy. A doctor and nurse, heads bent over a clipboard, spoke in conversational tones at the entrance to one cubicle. Another nurse consulted a chart at the foot of the bed next door. She looked up and smiled encouragingly at him as they passed. He felt like screaming at her. Ally’s life was being ripped apart somewhere in this very room. There was nothing to smile about.
The nurse who had ushered them up to the ICU disappeared into a cubicle, Callum close behind. Jack watched in silence as the loose, hospital-issue, open-backed gown that Callum wore over the blue, hospital-issue pants (“I’m not flashing my ass to the entire hospital”) vanished.
Guilt ate away at his insides. The only good thing he could see right at this moment, was that Ally was unconscious. She didn’t know yet. When she woke up, everything would change. For the second time tonight, he wished he didn’t have to be there for that. He didn’t want to see the look of realisation when she finally understood what had happened.
“Jack? Are you with us, son?"
His father gently squeezed his good arm. He took a few hesitant steps into the cubicle where Ally lay, acutely aware of his father right beside him. Strangely, it did not comfort him. The crushing weight of guilt bore down on him instead.
She lay on her back, dark hair pooling on the pillow beside her. A rigid white plastic collar encircled her neck and her ghostly complexion blended into the white sheets. Her entire body was bathed in an ethereal light cast by the fluorescent bulb on the wall above her head.
The nurse began talking, explaining to them what all the tubes and machines were for, but Jack couldn’t concentrate on anything she said. His attention was focused on Ally, lying there, so still, so pale. He willed her to understand how sorry he was.
He wasn't to know it, but this picture of her would haunt him over the lost years that followed.
His father squeezed his arm again, murmuring something that he couldn't hear for the buzzing in his head. Callum approached the bed and it was as if the world had tilted sideways. One minute, everything was perfect, the next he was trapped in this nightmare. In between was a split-second decision he would regret for the rest of his life. Callum reached out to take Ally’s hand, holding it for a moment before turning to him, tears glistening in his eyes. Jack looked away, guilt wrenching at his insides.
"Just hold her hand, Jack. Let her know you're here," his father said gently.
Tears blinded him. A hand on his back urged him forward and he wanted to shrug it off and run but he couldn’t. Callum shuffled out of his way and a look of understanding passed between them.
Shock. Despair. Terror.
Jack picked up Ally’s hand, her fingers cool and smooth. She felt so vulnerable, so fragile. It was like something out of a movie. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be – things like this happened to other people, not to them. He laid her hand down on the bed again, tears rolling down his cheeks. He felt like he was hyperventilating and he fought to control his breathing, to slow it down so the world didn't feel like it was closing in on him.
“Hey, it’s okay. Come on, take it easy,” his father whispered.
Jack turned toward him, silently willing him to help. Just like he had when his mother was dying. And now, as then, he realised there was no way out of this. It was happening. The agony and heartache of this night was already etched into the lines of his father’s face.
He turned his back on everything, trying to put the nightmare behind him
, rounding the corner of the cubicle and out into the main floor of the ICU. He only made it a few steps before his knees buckled and he hit the floor heavily. Balancing on his knees and his one good hand, he stared blankly at the linoleum. Callum's voice rang in the background, his vision swam, his shoulder burned hot. He found himself wanting to just lay down right there on the floor, not caring what happened next. What did it matter, anyway? Life as they knew it was over.
Instead, he was hoisted physically upwards. His vision slowly cleared and he blinked, lifting his head. He sat in a plastic chair, a nurse leaning over him. He heard the words “panic attack” and from somewhere deep inside, he agreed. He was panicked – more than that, he was absolutely terrified.
Something bright shone in his eyes and he swatted it away. Someone asked if he wanted some water and he nodded. Looking over the nurse’s shoulder, he saw his father staring at him, his face contorted into an anxious frown.
"I'll get you some water. You just wait right here, okay?" he ordered gruffly.
The nurse left him a few moments later and he glanced over at Callum, pale and stoic in a chair opposite him.
“Sure you're alright?" Callum asked.
Jack began to nod, then thought better of it, his head still pounding. "I'm fine.”
“You passed out."
Jack stared back at him, trying to breathe normally. His head swam.
Callum leaned forward, the hospital gown stretched taut over his knees. "It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
"How the hell am I gonna tell her?”
"You tell her what she needs to know. That’s it. No guilt tripping, Jack – I mean it. Stick to the facts."
"The fact is I did this to her," he whispered.
"Hey, we talked about this. Don’t complicate it, don’t make it harder than it already is,” Callum frowned. "We all have to be strong for her. She's going to need us – especially you – when she wakes up."
Jack shook his head again, his heart pounding. "I can't. I can't do it… "
“You have to,” Callum said simply. “You can’t let this shit take over, dude. Just breathe – you need to breathe.”
The aches and pains from earlier in the night seemed to vanish and Jack felt as if he floated far above himself, watching from a distance. Just hours ago, the future had stretched in front of him, an engagement ring tucked safely in the pocket of his jeans.
Now, there was nothing.
Callum was halfway to his car by the time Jack caught up with him.
“Hey!”
“Look,” Callum sighed as he turned around to face him, fumbling with his keys. “I heard what you said in there, and congratulations – you finally grew some balls. But what do you want from me, exactly?”
“I promised Ally I’d talk to you. I gave her a choice – I thought it was the least I could do.”
“A choice?”
“I asked her if she wanted me to stay or go. She said she wanted me to stay.”
Callum frowned, staring down at the keys in his hand for a moment. “Right. Of course she did.”
Jack shifted his weight from one foot to the other, waiting.
“Let’s just get one thing straight,” Callum said. “You make her a promise like that, you better keep it – if you tell her you’re going to stick around and then you disappear again, I will personally hunt you down and kill you. Do you understand me?”
Jack nodded as Callum continued to eyeball him.
“Get in the car.”
Obediently, Jack did as he was told. The silence in the car was deafening and Callum didn’t seem in any hurry to break it. Jack watched another Barney’s patron walk out of the bar and up the street, staggering slightly. The temperature had dropped over the past hour and the light mist that had settled over the street gave the streetlights an eerie glow.
“I hated you for leaving,” Callum said finally. “I mean, I knew you felt responsible for what happened to her, but I never thought you’d just leave her like that. You were going to propose, Jack – then you just up and disappear, right when she needed you most? What the hell were you thinking?”
Jack stared at his hands, clenched into fists on his thighs. He thought back to that night like he had hundreds of times. “I wasn’t – thinking, that is. I was just scared. I didn’t want her to push me away so I left before she could.”
“That’s a really shitty excuse.”
“I know it’s shitty, but it’s not an excuse. It’s the truth. I was scared. I didn’t know what else to do.”
“We were all scared,” Callum said. “Do you think it was easy, watching her go through this?”
“Do you think it was easy walking away?” Jack countered, turning towards him.
“Don’t you dare do that, no one made you leave, that was your choice!”
There was no arguing with that.
“I know that saying I’m sorry won’t cut it. I can’t change what I did, but I can be here now. That’s why I asked her – I wanted to do the right thing for her, I wanted her to have a choice this time.”
Silence settled over them once again. All Jack could hear was the beating of his own heart in his ears.
“Surgery seemed to take forever,” Callum said at last. “And that whole time, I kept hoping that somehow, they’d gotten it all wrong, that they’d come out of the operating room and say whoops, sorry, made a mistake, she’s gonna be fine.”
Jack tried to breathe but if felt like his chest was in a vice.
“The next few days, the meds were pretty strong. She only came round for a few minutes at a time, they made her really groggy. Every time she opened her eyes, she asked for you. We just kept saying you were on your way. Luckily, she couldn’t stay awake long enough to question it.”
“I’m sorry,” Jack murmured, knowing full well that it wasn’t enough.
"Finally, we had to tell her what happened. We couldn’t wait for you anymore, she was getting upset and it wasn’t good for her. That was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. If Tom hadn’t been there with me, I don’t know if I could’ve done it. For a long time afterwards, I felt like I’d taken something from her.”
Jack glanced over at him, his heart in his mouth. “How did she take it?”
Callum seemed lost, staring out the windshield. “She cried.”
Jack’s head bowed low. His heart felt like it was being shredded.
“I think deep down, on some level, she might have known,” Callum reflected quietly. “She said she couldn’t feel her legs. We kept blaming it on the meds, stalling until we could find you. But the doc said we should tell her. The sooner she knew, the sooner she could start to accept it. She was so scared and there was nothing I could do,” he paused, swallowing noisily. “All through rehab, even months later, she still thought you’d come home. She was fighting so hard to be independent because she didn’t want you to be scared off again when you came back. Did Tom tell you that?"
"No," he whispered. “He didn’t.”
Callum huffed out a breath, shaking his head in disbelief.
“It wasn’t his fault. I told him not to.”
“So you just walked away and didn’t want to know anymore, is that it? Fresh slate? Never gave us a second thought?”
Jack tried to think of words that would explain what the last four years had been like but everything sounded trite by comparison. It didn’t matter what he had been through, only what he had put everyone else through by leaving. “It wasn’t like that.”
“Then what was it like?”
“I’m not going to make excuses for what I did. There’s nothing I can say that’s gonna make it sound noble or justified. But I didn’t just walk away and forget about you all either, trust me.”
“Where’d you learn to fight like that?” Callum asked abruptly.
“I’ve done a lot of things I’m not proud of. Leaving here that night isn’t exactly the end of that list.”
“Jesus,” Callum
huffed. “Would a straight answer kill you?”
“I hung out in some shitty bars. I hung out with some shittier people.”
“That’s it? That’s all you got?”
“For now, yeah.”
He prayed that Callum would leave it at that. He didn’t want to have to lie to him but he wasn’t ready to share the truth yet, either. Jack cleared his throat and glanced out of the windshield again. The guys he had seen at the pool table were coming out of Barney’s together, laughing as they made their way down the street. Jealousy pulled at his gut.
“That used to be us, once upon a time,” he mumbled.
Callum followed his gaze. “Feels like a hundred years ago.”
Silence buzzed around them again.
“Do you love her?”
“What?” Jack glanced at him sharply.
“You heard me.”
After a moment, Jack nodded.
“What if she doesn’t feel the same?”
“Doesn’t matter. Even if she doesn’t love me, I’m not going anywhere.”
“What if she’s with someone else?”
“Is she with someone else?”
Callum regarded him sombrely for a moment before finally shaking his head. “No. But what if she was?”
“Then I’d deal with it. It wouldn’t make me take off again, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“You sound pretty sure of yourself.”
“First you tell me I’m not convincing anyone, now you say I’m too cocky?” Jack snapped. “Make up your damn mind.”
Callum regarded him critically. “So what now?”
"I don't know. One day at a time, I guess."
Callum nodded, stony-faced.
“I can see how close you two are and I’m glad she had you in her corner. I just want you to know that I’m grateful that you were there for her.”