Until We Are Gone

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Until We Are Gone Page 17

by Gia Riley


  She doesn’t.

  “Come inside, Cash. Open your eyes and follow me inside.”

  I listen to her, this beautiful person who keeps surprising me at every turn. Loving me when I deserve it the least.

  Unlike all the other times I’ve been here, guilt doesn’t follow me into her house. Maybe it’s because of Meadow’s feelings for Dr. Slater. Or that I finally know where I stand. I don’t know. But something happens once we leave the driveway, and I’m okay with it. In fact, I want it.

  Teddi sits me down on her couch and brings me a wet dishcloth from the kitchen. I wipe my hands off the best I can and rest my head against the back of the couch.

  When I woke up two hours ago, I didn’t imagine this was the way my day would go. I thought I’d get some answers about the journal, and then, once everything made sense, I’d go to work and finish out my day.

  I was so wrong.

  “Cash?” Teddi says as the couch dips next to me.

  It takes everything I have not to touch her. I can’t. It wouldn’t be right until I told her the truth about what I had done. I’m no saint—I’ve never claimed to be—but I’m always real with her. She deserves that much.

  I take a deep breath. “I saw Meadow with a guy, and I punched him.”

  “No,” she says with a gasp. “Is he okay?”

  “His face is fine. Everything’s still where it should be.”

  “Did Meadow relapse? Did he give her alcohol?”

  I shake my head, embarrassed that her hospitalization has nothing to do with her actual treatment. I should be grateful there’s not a mole from the outside, keeping her supplied with vodka, but I think that would be easier than this. At least it would be treatable, fixable even.

  Instead, Meadow’s at the hospital, getting X-rays, trying to figure out how to move on with her damn therapist while still married to me.

  “I kicked her in the ribs, Teddi. It happened so fast.”

  Shock doesn’t begin to describe the look on Teddi’s face. Her eyes are so wide, and I wait for her to give me her worst. I deserve it.

  Instead, she just says, “Why, Cash? Why would you do that?”

  The fact that she thinks I might have done it on purpose hurts. I’d never lay a hand on a woman. No matter how many times Meadow has pushed my buttons or challenged me, violence isn’t in my vocabulary.

  “The guy she’s with, who happens to be her doctor, fell when I punched him. I saw red, Teddi. I can’t even describe what went through my head. And then Meadow jumped between us just as I tried to kick him.”

  “Jesus,” she says as she stands up and walks toward the window.

  She’s looking across the street at my house, and I wonder just how much she regrets getting involved with us.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell her.

  “I’m not the one you need to apologize to.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  Turning around, she licks her lips and waits for me to continue. Now’s probably the worst time for this, especially since I just told her that my marriage is over. But I’m done waiting for an ideal moment to get my life back, especially when the perfect woman is standing right in front of me.

  It’s time to do what makes me happy. I’ve been so focused on getting Meadow’s memories back and making sure she doesn’t kill herself in the process that I’ve never stopped to look at what I need or want. I can’t deny what I feel anymore.

  I stand up, and when I’m in front of her, I tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear. She shivers.

  “I do need to apologize, Teddi. I’m sorry for getting you so caught up in my bullshit. I’ve kept you close and relied on you when I needed a friend, and you’ve been there, no questions asked. But this dynamic is hurting us. I can’t watch you cry anymore.”

  She nods and turns her head, so she’s staring over my shoulder. I know what she’s thinking.

  “Look at me,” I tell her.

  “You already let me down gently yesterday, Cash. I get it. You don’t have to tell me again.”

  “Then, let me tell you something else.”

  That gets her attention, and I have her eyes again.

  “What?” she whispers. Her body’s trembling.

  “It’s okay,” I tell her.

  “If everything is okay, then tell me I can have my friend back. That’s all I need. I miss you, Cash.”

  “You hadn’t lost me, Teddi.”

  I’ve never seen so much compassion in one human being. Teddi is all heart; she wears it on her sleeve.

  I’m the one constantly messing up, not her. But I have the power to change that. Finally, I can make someone happy.

  “I’m done holding on to memories,” I tell her. “I want to make new ones with you.”

  “What are you saying?” she asks.

  “I’m saying this is me, waving the white flag. I’m surrendering to addiction and all the ugliness that goes along with it.”

  “You’re not doing that, Cash. You’ve fought a battle that isn’t yours. What happens now is up to Meadow. And I know you’ll support her regardless.”

  “I’ll support her successes even if she wants nothing to do with me anymore. But I can’t keep fighting for a life she doesn’t want. I almost went to jail today. Again. Enough is enough.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “When I’m allowed to see her, we’ll end it the right way. Face-to-face without a crowd of people trying to interfere.”

  I know it won’t be that simple. There are a lot of legalities that need to be worked out, but if Meadow doesn’t want this marriage, I’ll no longer hold her captive. She’s free to go and live her life.

  “That’s what you truly want?” Teddi asks. “Your decision has nothing to do with me?”

  “I could have killed her, Teddi. If I had kicked her hard enough, her lung could have collapsed. What if I’d made contact with her head instead? She could have died on the floor, right in front of me.”

  “Thank God that didn’t happen,” she says.

  “I’d be lying if I said my decision had nothing to do with you though. If you weren’t in my life, I’d probably still fight like hell for something that wasn’t meant to be. I know how bad that sounds, but because of you, I have so much to look forward to.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of,” she says.

  She’s misunderstanding because what I’m trying to say is coming out all wrong.

  “Teddi, without you in my life, I might not even be here.”

  Tears leak from my eyes, not because I’m ending a marriage. That’s been a long time coming. I’m upset because it took almost killing Meadow for me to wake up. And that I have to even allude to the fact that I’ve thought about ending my own life. What sane man does that?

  Teddi holds my face in her hands, brushing the wetness away with her thumbs. “She’ll be okay, Cash. And this world wouldn’t be the place it is without you.”

  “I hope that’s true.”

  There’s nothing I want more for Meadow than for her to be happy. But I’m letting myself off the hook. The guilt I’ve been carrying around can’t come with me anymore.

  And maybe, once she’s away from the alcohol and me—the two forces in her life that have done more harm than good—she’ll be able to heal and get better.

  “It’s true,” she says. “I know you’ll get what you want—happiness for everyone involved.”

  “You make me happy, Teddi.”

  “Yeah?” she whispers. “You make me happy, too.”

  If she’s happy with life as shitty as it’s been, then I can’t wait to show her just how good we can be. “My timing sucks; I realize that. But, if you can wait a little longer, I want to try this with you.”

  She wraps her arms around my neck and holds on. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to hear those words.”

  I do know. Because I think I’ve been waiting just as long to say them.

  When I lean in to kiss her for the very first time, sh
e pulls back, and I question all the progress we’ve made. I thought we were on the same page.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask her.

  “I want you, Cash. Please don’t think that I don’t.”

  She’s scared. I get it. I’m terrified that she won’t wait through a divorce, and it’ll get uglier before it gets better. But my life wouldn’t be the same if I didn’t have her in it. That much I know.

  “I’ve asked so much of you, Teddi. And I have no right to ask for more. But I am.”

  “It’s okay,” she whispers. “What happened to Meadow isn’t your fault. I knew it was complicated when I started spending time with you. I guess I just need to be sure you won’t change your mind.”

  “You think you’re my consolation prize? Meadow doesn’t want me, so now, I want you? Right?”

  The way she swallows and looks away tells me all I need to know.

  “Teddi.”

  “I don’t want to be your rebound, Cash. A stepping-stone from recovery to the future.”

  “If you think I can do better than you, you’re crazy. And, if I were a better man, I’d hold off completely until my life was worked out. But I tried taking a break, and as you can see, I suck at those.”

  She smiles because yesterday’s break didn’t last a full twenty-four hours.

  “If you end your marriage and still want to be with me, then I’ll be right here.”

  That’s more than I probably deserve.

  “All in or walk away,” she adds.

  Every moment I’ve shared with Meadow flashes in front of my eyes.

  Can I let Meadow go?

  Can I really step away from her therapy and not go crazy, wondering if she’s doing okay?

  I don’t know—that’s the honest-to-God truth—because I’ve never tried.

  But I do know that every one of the memories that I just thought about happened before the accident with a woman who no longer exists.

  I’m not leading Teddi on. We’re not making a colossal mistake.

  Because some things in life are meant to end; that’s how new beginnings are created.

  “Second chances,” I tell her.

  That’s exactly what she is. My chance to get it right.

  twenty-seven

  NOLAN

  The ride to the hospital is quiet. The medics asking Meadow some questions are the only words spoken. I stay in my seat, afraid that, if I move, more secrets will be unleashed.

  My face is throbbing, but I ignore it. Besides Meadow, all I’m worried about is calming Ms. Lucia down and figuring out how to get back to the office. She’s already agreed to have one of the aides drop my car off at the emergency room, so that’s one less thing to worry about.

  The rest is a shitstorm.

  From the tone of her texts, she’s more than a little worried about backlash from Cash’s lawyers. I heard the threats being tossed around while we were in the parking lot, but threats mean action. And action means long-drawn-out court cases. I’d hope Cash wouldn’t put his wife through that. Not when she’s already fighting a battle for her life.

  Wife. God, that sounds insane.

  I have a million questions swirling around in my head, and I’m just waiting for the right time to ask them. Like when Meadow isn’t strapped to a board, forced to stare at the ceiling of a metal box.

  I get one more text, and I can’t stop staring at the words.

  Ms. Lucia: Have you engaged in any inappropriate relations with your client?

  This isn’t something we should be discussing over text messaging, but I get why she’s asking. She can’t very well fill out incident reports without all the facts. Even if those facts could get us all in a lot of trouble.

  Meadow and I haven’t crossed any lines. Sure, we’ve flirted. But I’ve never touched her inappropriately. Giving a woman my shirt because she was cold hardly constitutes a court case.

  Would I have gone further with Meadow though? If she had tried to kiss me, would I have let her?

  Yes.

  The answer is always yes.

  I wouldn’t have stopped Meadow’s advances because we’d kissed a hundred times before. And, now, I wish I’d brought her to work when we were dating, just so I’d have proof that we were in love, that anything that might have recently happened was out of our control.

  I type out a one-worded response to Ms. Lucia.

  Me: No.

  And then I hit Send.

  “Why’s your phone going crazy?” Meadow asks me.

  It’s the first thing she’s said since we left the treatment center.

  “It’s Ms. Lucia. She’s just checking on things. Nothing for you to worry about.”

  Meadow’s worried though. I hear how upset she is in her breathing. It’s a different sound than when she was struggling to catch her breath after being kicked.

  “Nolan, I don’t feel right,” she says.

  “It’s the adrenaline. You’re probably on the verge of an anxiety attack. I’ll get you something to calm you down once we get inside, okay? Just focus on your breathing for a few more minutes.”

  She says, “Okay,” but the second the ambulance doors open, she screams.

  The medics put the brakes on the gurney, and one checks her pulse. “She’s tachycardic.”

  The little huffs and puffs are now full-blown gasps.

  He rips open a bag and pulls out some electrodes, quickly sticking them on Meadow’s chest. They probably should have done that during transport, but until now, she’s shown no signs of distress.

  “No!” she yells. “It hurts. Don’t shock me again.”

  All they’ve done is attach some sticky patches, so I’m not sure what’s going on. But Meadow’s having some type of reaction.

  When her eyes roll back in her head, I’ve had all I can take. “Get her inside!”

  As they wheel her through the emergency room, Meadow passes in and out of consciousness. I don’t ask where they’re going. I just follow.

  She yells my name twice, and the panic in her voice slices through my heart.

  “She can have medication. There are no restrictions,” I tell them.

  Meadow stops yelling for me, and I don’t know if that means they’ve calmed her down or that she’s passed out again, so I move inside the treatment area.

  I’m still dressed like a civilian, and I don’t even have my badge on me. Though I have privileges at this hospital, I’m rarely in the emergency room, so I don’t recognize any faces. All of my work is done upstairs on patients dealing with brain injuries that don’t revolve around addiction.

  Glancing at the monitors, I notice her heart rate has come down. She’s back in normal sinus rhythm.

  “Was it an anxiety attack?”

  The attending physician glances over his shoulder and says, “Other than the bruising on her side, we haven’t found anything, so that’s our best guess right now.”

  I don’t want guesses. I want them to figure out what’s going on with Meadow.

  She opens her eyes and looks right at me, and her face is as white as a ghost. She glances at her chest, and the monitors go crazy again. Her heart rate is even higher than before.

  I look back and forth between her and the monitor, and then I remember the reports I read. “Get them off her!”

  “What?” the nurse asks.

  “The electrodes for the EKG. Get them off of her body. Now!”

  “We need them,” she says.

  But I step around her and pull them off myself. The adhesive is strong, and Meadow winces, but the second they’re gone, her breathing slows down again.

  “You were having a flashback, weren’t you?” I ask her.

  Shaking, she says, “I felt it. The lightning.”

  That’s why she passed out. She was taken back to the night in the helicopter when they did chest compressions and shocked her body back to life.

  “Don’t put them back on her chest unless you absolutely need to.”

  They nod, finally
understanding what was happening. If I hadn’t been here, I don’t even want to think about how long this nightmare could have gone on.

  Now that Meadow’s stable, everyone leaves the room, except for me and one other nurse. They ruled out any head or neck injuries, so the backboard was removed, and Meadow’s sitting up now.

  “Someone from radiology will be here shortly.”

  “Thank you,” I tell the nurse.

  “How’d you know what was wrong?” Meadow asks. “I couldn’t talk.”

  “Your reports.”

  She nods and picks at her finger. There’s so much I want to ask her, but I’m afraid to push her too far right now. She’s had a hell of a day, and another anxiety attack would only make this visit longer.

  “You’re sure your face is okay, Nolan?”

  I haven’t looked in a mirror yet, but I’m guessing there’s a decent bruise forming. “Don’t worry about my face. It’s fine.”

  She bites her lip and struggles to hold it together. I hate what this morning did to her.

  When we left my office, she was doing well. We’d had a successful night, and I think she would have even agreed to hypnosis in a day or two.

  But, now, we’ve taken a few steps back, and I’m worried the trust we’ve built is gone.

  “I’m sorry,” she says. “I don’t know why Cash showed up.”

  “I’m sorry, too. I had no idea you were married. I apologize if I crossed any lines.”

  “You didn’t cross any lines,” she whispers, looking away from me.

  She’s hard to read sometimes, but the look on her face makes me think she wishes I had.

  “What?” I ask her. “There’s something you’re not saying.”

  “Just forget about it.”

  “We have to talk about it eventually, Meadow.”

  “I don’t mind talking to you. But I don’t like to talk about Cash. I assume you read about him in my file, and that’s embarrassing enough.”

  I’m sure it was there, but I skipped over the first couple of pages. Other than glancing at a current address to see if she’d been living in the area, I jumped ahead to the accident to find out how bad her condition really was. Naturally, I wanted to find out what I was up against. Because, like I told her, I can’t help every patient who walks through the doors, and I prayed like hell that I could treat her.

 

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