“I’m sorry, son,” he says, giving me a weak smile. “Is there anything we can do for you?”
At his words, my entire world shatters, and there’s nothing in the world that can stop the guilt coursing through my veins. All I can think about is how he looked when I asked for his daughter’s hand in marriage. He looked proud of me. He looked happy, even. And I swore to him that I would always take care of her, always protect her. I swore that nothing bad would happen to her again as long as she was with me. I’d failed her already so much in the past, I wanted the future to be untainted.
But standing in front of her father, watching his pain unfold before my eyes, I’m reminded of the fact that I’m still a failure. I only asked to marry her last night and already she’s in the fucking emergency room. I shouldn’t be trusted with his daughter. Not with her well-being. Not with her heart. I can’t protect her, and I know that now.
And I hate myself for it.
I shake my head, overwhelmed with emotion. My heart is in my throat as I gather my thoughts to speak to him. “No, I’m sorry sir. I let you down. I…I promised you I would protect her. That I…that I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her. I’m sorry.”
His eyes narrow, and my shoulders sag as I mentally prepare myself for the inevitable. He’s going to hit me. I know he is. Hell, maybe I even want him to. It wouldn’t solve shit, but it would make me feel better if someone blamed me.
Instead, his hands come up to grip my arms and he shakes me violently. “You listen here, Colin. This is not your fault. She’s going to pull through. I promise you that. Our girl’s a fighter. Now pull your shit together. It’s gonna kill her to see you like this. Stand up straight and stiffen up that upper lip.”
I nod, too stunned to do much else.
I don’t know how to thank him for his words of reassurance. He hasn’t relieved me of all my guilt with his words, but he has taken some of the weight off my shoulders. For now.
He squeezes my shoulder before he gives me a quick bro hug. I choke up a bit at the sentiment, because it’s the last thing I expect when I’m the one who put his eldest daughter int he hospital.
When he releases me, I feel even emptier than I did before.
I don’t want to be absolved of my guilt. I deserve to wallow in it, to feel the pressure of guilt for as long as Nickayla remains hurt.
Mich and I are making to sit back down when a doctor approaches us. He sees us all standing together, and he smiles. He sticks his hand out to shake Mr. Quinn’s hand, and Mr. Quinn obliges. My heart leaps into my throat at his appearance, because I’ve no way of telling whether he’s about to give us good news or bad news.
“Are you the family of Nickayla Quinn?” he asks.
“I’m her father, and this is her fiance,” Mr. Quinn explains.
“I’m Dr. Rivers. Nickayla is out of the woods. Her injuries are minor. A few bruised ribs, a concussion, and her right leg is broken. The medics say she flatlined while on her way here, but we were able to get her back and stabilize her. She was sleeping, but she’s awake now. You can see her, but no more than one visitor at a time. We don’t want to overwhelm her.”
I exhale a sigh of relief, and Michie wraps her arms around me as a show of support. My heart stops, and I look over at Michele, who finally has tears in her eyes. All that he’s said is good so far, right?
I can barely breathe as he continues to explain to Mr. Quinn, Michie, and I all they’ve done to treat Nickayla. It sounds like they had a hard time at first, but if all they went through trying to help her ended up saving her life in the long run, there’s no way I can object.
“So she’s going to be okay?” I ask when I can’t hold back any longer. I have to know.
Dr. Rivers nods. “Considering that most people who get hit head on in an accident die on impact, I’d say Nickayla was incredibly lucky. Count your blessings. Your girl’s mighty resilient, I’ll tell you that much.”
There are no words to explain how relieved I am to hear that she’s going to be okay. It’s what I’ve been waiting for for what feels like forever. I lean against Michele for moral support, and she squeezes my shoulder. This time, though, it’s not just me who’s incredibly emotional. She’s breaking down now, like all the dams have broken and she’s letting herself feel what she should have felt the minute I called and let her know that Nickayla was in an accident.
Shakily, Mrs. Quinn stands up and joins us as we continue to talk to Dr. Rivers, and she joins hands with Michele and her husband. She holds the both of them close like she’ll collapse if she lets them more than a foot out of her reach.
Michele, leaning her head on Mrs. Quinn’s shoulder and squeezing my hand, looks at Dr. Rivers and gives him a once-over. Considering how well I know Michie, I’m surprised she hasn’t asked or said anything yet. Instead, she’s been silent, taking it all in. I can’t even imagine what’s going through her head.
I hope it’s not half as bad as what’s going through mine.
“When can we see her?” she asks.
The doctor eyes her, as though he wonders who the Hell she is. But she’s just asking what the rest of us want to, but haven’t. I’ve been too afraid to ask, because I’m scared her parents will want to see her first. And I don’t know if I can stand being away from her for another fucking second. I know why I haven’t asked, but I wonder why her parents haven’t. We’re not married yet. They can see her before me if they want to.
“You can see her now, actually, as long as she’s awake,” Dr. Rivers says. He looks over at me, at the Tiffany’s box I have clutched in my shaky, injured hand and he gives me a smile. “Are you Colin?”
When I nod, he exhales and extends a hand to me. “I am.”
He nods to the left before he gives a short laugh. “You should come with me. She’s been asking for you from the moment she opened her eyes. I’m afraid if I don’t let her see you immediately, we’ll have to sedate her. She refuses to take ‘no’ for an answer.”
I shoot an apologetic glance at her parents, who I know are worried sick about her, at her siblings who look like they haven’t breathed in years, at her friends who look dead on their feet, and I feel guilty that it’s me she’s been asking for. I feel guilty that she asked for me, when it’s me who got her in this position in the first place. I’m the reason she was even in the car to begin with.
“It’s okay, her parents can go first,” I offer, mostly out of guilt. Not because I’m a good person or anything. If I was a good person, I’d walk out the doors of this hospital and never look back, because all I know how to do is hurt her. But since I’m a horrible person, I’m selfishly staying put, because I can’t imagine walking away from her. Again. “I can wait.”
Mrs. Quinn looks hopeful for a second, but Mr. Quinn shakes his head, reaching up to tuck a lock of his wife’s hair behind her ear. “I don’t think that’s best. You heard what he said. She’s been asking for you. You were the last person with her before all of this happened. You should see her first.”
I glance at her mother, and she looks like she’s shrunk since her husband has started speaking. This is my last chance to be a decent human being before I throw every good thing about me out the window. I brace myself for her to yell at me, for her to tell me to wait outside while they take their well-deserved time with their daughter. I hold my breath before asking, “Are you sure? Because I don’t mind waiting…”
Surprisingly, it’s Mrs. Quinn who speaks up this time. She looks sure of herself. “Yes, Colin. Go. She loves you, and she’s asking for you, not us. Go ahead. We’ll be perfectly fine, I promise.”
That’s all I fucking needed to hear.
Thirty Three.
Nickayla
Everything hurts.
That’s all I can think of when the doctor leaves my room to tell everyone my prognosis. I heard the words he said, but I wasn’t paying attention. Outside of “broken leg”, “bruised ribs”, and “concussion”, nothing else made much sense. Here’s
hoping that my parents pay attention when he tells them. Then maybe they can explain it to me.
I don’t know who will be the first person in to see me, but I hope to God it’s Colin.
The last thing I remember before I blacked out, both times, was him telling me how much he loved me. But for some reason, I can distinctly hear him screaming my name over and over again, sounding absolutely distraught. I need him to look me in the eye and let him know that I’m okay, that way I can get the sound of his scream out of my head.
As soon as my doctor left, I asked my nurse to elevate the upper part of my body, so that I can be seated when I get my first visitor. I don’t want to be lying down, no matter how badly everything hurts.
There’s a knock on my door, and when I look up, Colin’s standing in the doorway, both his hands clenched into fists.
He looks as bad as I feel. There are bruises and lacerations all over his perfect face, his right hand is bandaged, and he walks like someone sucked all the life right out of him. His hair has curled up and it’s matted at the ends, and it’s hard to believe that it’s only been a few hours since I’ve been admitted. He looks like he’s been struggling with grief for months.
He halts at the door at the sight of me, and once he recomposes himself, he staggers forward and into my room.
“Hi,” he says, standing over me.
I lift my arm up, extending my hand to him in a gesture for him to come closer. When he does, he drops to his knees beside my bed and grabs my hand. He starts sobbing hysterically into the sheet and clutching my hand for dear life.
In the year that we’ve been together, I’ve seen Colin cry more times than I’m comfortable with. It pains me to see him hurting. I’ve seen him cry when I told him about how Kyle took my virginity. When his dad burned down his place and then beat him. When his dad passed away. At his dad’s funeral. The day I walked away from him for the first time.
But I have never seen the man I love broken like this.
It’s killing me.
“Babe, I’m okay,” I try to assure him. At the sound of my voice, he only sobs harder. I’ll admit, I’m a bit raspy from all the screaming I’ve done. But I don’t sound nearly bad enough to warrant this reaction from him. “Colin, look at me.”
I remove my hand from his grasp, and his head snaps up. I run my fingers through his hair, and I’m brought to tears by the way he leans into my touch like it’s the last time I’ll touch him. He clenches his teeth and a muscle in his jaw twitches as he tries to get his emotions back in check.
“Hey, there.” I smile at him, surprised at how easily it comes. “I love you.”
He grasps my hand as it rests on his face. “I love you so much. I thought…I thought you were…gone. I…”
“It’s okay. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”
He nods, but seems otherwise unconvinced. He kisses my hand, then makes his way over, on his knees, to where my head is. He presses a kiss to my forehead as gently as possible, and at that, a tear falls from my eye.
I can feel the tension rolling off of him in waves. I wish there was something I could do to take all of the tension, pain, and guilt—because I know him all too well, and I know he’s blaming himself—away from him.
“Please…” His voice is a whisper. “Please don’t ever…ever leave me. I’m so sorry.”
Placing a hand on the back of his head, I guide him so his head rests against my side. I inhale deeply, wincing as my ribs protest. I must have gasped, because Colin’s head snaps up and his green eyes are stricken as they pierce through me. I’m immobilized by the fear in his gaze, and I realize suddenly that my pain—and the gasp that followed—must be the source of his worry.
“I’m sorry you have to feel like this. I’m sorry. All…all my fault.”
I reach for him, pushing one of his matted curls out of his face and wiping one of his tears away simultaneously.
“None of this was your fault, babe,” I try to assure him. “You did everything right. Everything. I’ll be okay, I promise. We both will.”
He’s quiet for a long time, and then he nods, but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he stands up, kisses my hand, and heads for the door. At his impending retreat, I attempt to push myself off the bed, forgetting where I am for a moment.
I cry out in a guttural moan the minute my ribs protest and remind me how my body’s in the worst possible state right now. White hot pain sears through my body and tears come flooding out my eyes. Everything in me feels like it’s on fire, but I don’t care. I don’t want Colin to leave. I can’t bear to be apart from him right now. Not again.
I remember part of my ride in the ambulance. I remember reaching for his hand only to find that he wasn’t even there. I remember feeling alone. Feeling like half of me was missing. What I remember most though, is the worry. I worried about how he was doing. If he was okay. I remember thinking that if I was hurt beyond measure, that was okay, as long as I knew that Colin was safe. And then I remember the beeping. And then the blackness.
I feel that same blackness now at the thought of Colin walking out of this room.
Colin curses and rushes back to my side. “Jesus Christ, Nickayla! You were just in a fucking car accident. What do you think you’re doing?”
I shake my head, clutching at my ribs as I gasp and wait for the pain to subside. “Don’t…leave. Please…”
Walking over to my left side and taking my hand, he runs his thumb over my engagement ring. He places a hand on the side of my face and presses a kiss to my forehead.
“I wasn’t going anywhere,” he says. “I was just going to step out for a while, so your parents and everyone else could come see you. The doctor said only one visitor at a time, so as not to overwhelm you.”
I right myself against the pillows behind me, and I squeeze his hand tightly. “Don’t go.”
“The doctor said…”
“I don’t give a shit what the doctor said. You’re not leaving.”
He nods before reaching in his pocket and pulling out his cell phone. He punches some numbers and then looks down at it before bringing it up to his ear. He uses his shoulder to hold it in place and then his eyebrows furrow together.
“Hello? Hey, Mich. Tell Mr. and Mrs. Quinn they can come in and see her. Yeah. Yeah, I know. But there’s a situation. I’m being held hostage. She won’t let me leave. I know. I told her that, but you know how Nickayla is… Yeah. Okay. See you in a bit.”
I raise an eyebrow at his choice of words, and then I pat the mattress. His green gaze meets mine, and he shakes his head. I pat the mattress again, and he groans. “Colin. You’re not going anywhere. Might as well make yourself comfortable.”
After a few moments, he concedes, and, as slowly as possible, I move over to make room for him. He climbs atop the bed cautiously, and then he takes my hand again and holds it in his lap. Just as the both of us get comfortable, my parents make their way into the room.
“Oh, mija,” Mom says, making her way over to me and kissing the top of my head. “How are you feeling?”
Giving her a small smile and hugging her with my free arm, I say, “Like I’ve been hit by a car.”
My mom looks horrorstruck, but my dad laughs from his place at the doorway. My mom releases herself from my hug, then steps back to make room for my dad.
“Hi, Daddy,” I say, kissing him on the cheek as he leans down to hug me.
“Hey, Pumpkin. You scared the shit out of me. Don’t do it again, okay?” His tone is playful, but I can see the concern in his eyes.
“Okay, Daddy. I promise I won’t let another driver ram their car right into me.”
I try to laugh it off, but in reality, I’m still scared shitless. I could have died. Colin could have died. And whoever it was that ran that light and hit us just took off without a backward glance. Didn’t stop to see if we were okay. That doesn’t sit well with me that the person who did it is still out there somewhere.
Colin’s hand tightens around
mine, and my dad tenses up at my poorly timed joke.
“We’ll be back later,” Mom says. “We’re going to go pick some things up from the apartment and work something out with your school?”
At that, I can’t help but be perplexed. “What do you mean?”
Colin clears his throat, and I can tell that he knows whatever it is my mom’s referring to. My mom wrings her hands together before turning to my dad and sighing.
“Your doctor’s going to release you on Monday, but he wants you on bed rest for the next two weeks. That directly coincides with the remainder of your senior activities, and you’ll be off bed rest merely days before graduation. We’re going to try and work it out with your teachers so you can take your finals at home, under an aide’s supervision, and still be able to graduate with your class.”
I nod, incredibly grateful for all she’s done and all she’s about to do for me. This is the absolute worst time for me to be hurt. The one thing I’m thankful for, though, is the fact that our apartment has an elevator. I don’t want to be back at my parents’ house. I don’t want them to think that I need to depend on them.
“Thank you,” I tell her. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Mom says, and Daddy says the same right behind her.
Once they’re gone, Keaton, Carly, and Suze came in to see how I was doing. Keaton brought me a bouquet of lilies—hence proving my “lilies are for sick people” theory—and Carly brought me a bag of Lindor truffles. Suze didn’t say much, just that she was happy I was okay, and that Colin needed to leave in about twenty minutes to take care of something. I didn’t know what that was about, and I sure didn’t think to ask.
Almost Everything (Nickayla Quinn Trilogy Book 2) Page 28