by Rebecca Shea
“It was storming so bad, and I was driving so carefully.” She pauses. “But there were tree limbs and branches all over the road. I was dodging them every half mile or so.” Her voice is somber as she touches the IV that is stuck in her hand. “It all happened so quickly, Landon.” I reach out and rest my hand on top of hers.
“I swerved to avoid hitting a giant tree that had fallen. I think I overcorrected, but I’m not sure. I remember the car rolling two, maybe three times. I couldn’t see her, but I heard her before she quit talking.” Her voice trails off.
“So she was talking?” I ask.
“For a minute. Then she stopped. I begged her to talk to me, Landon.” Lindsay chokes up. “I’m so sorry. I’m just so sorry,” she cries.
“It was an accident. Accidents happen, Linds,” I reassure her. The door to Lindsay’s room creaks open just a few inches and the nurse who’s been keeping tabs on me sticks her head through the door.
“Mr. Christianson, the doctor is ready to speak with you out here.” The door opens further and Matt pushes his way into the room.
“How is she?” he asks as he walks to the bed.
“Alive,” I breathe. “Can you stay here while I go see about Reagan and…” I pause. Matt eyes me suspiciously, but doesn’t press me.
“Sure. Take your time. I won’t leave her.” He sits down in the chair I just left.
I squeeze Lindsay’s hand and press a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be back in a few minutes; just get some rest, okay?”
“Okay. Landon?” she says. “I’m so sorry. Please tell Reagan I’m sorry.”
“I know, and I will.” I hurry to the door, anxious to speak to the doctor to get any news on Reagan. Stepping into the bright white hallway, a doctor and nurse stand outside a door just across the hall and catty corner from Lindsay’s room.
“Mr. Christianson?” the young male doctor asks as I approach.
“Yes, how is she?”
The nurse looks me over, as does the doctor. “I understand you’re the patient’s…” He waits for me to fill in the blank on his sentence.
“Boyfriend…” I say slowly.
The doctor and nurse look at each other hesitantly before the young doctor gives me a brief run down. “I cannot legally give you information on her condition. HIPAA regulations. She is sleeping and heavily medicated. In fact, she’ll be out for quite some time. Right now, that’s all I can tell you.” He flips through papers in the chart he’s holding.
“She’s pregnant and I’m the father.” His hand stills, and he looks at me sympathetically. His face is conflicted, as if he wants to give me information, but he suddenly pulls the vibrating phone from his pocket and scrolls through the screen.
“I’m sorry. I have an emergency I have to attend to. I really wish I could give you more information. She should be awake tomorrow when the meds wear off. I will say this though… she’s very lucky to be alive.” He turns quickly and walks down the long corridor with the nurse on his tail. I rake my hands over my face in frustration. I peek through the long glass window on her door and the curtain is pulled near her bed so I can’t see her face. A team of nurses is in the room with her and I crack the door and quietly enter.
My heart races as I near her bed and see her. Her face has a large bandage under her left eye and another across her forehead. Pillows are strategically placed under an arm and under one of her legs. Her face is swollen and her long dark hair is matted. I can see blood that has dried all along her hairline.
“Sir, she’s not ready for visitors,” the nurse says quietly as she stops writing in her chart.
“I’m… I’m…”
“Sir.”
“I know. I just needed to see her,” I whisper as I approach her bed.
“You have thirty seconds,” the second nurse says as she looks at me sympathetically.
Machines beep and hiss all around me. She’s got a blood pressure cuff on her arm and an oxygen monitor on her finger. She’s got pads on her chest, monitoring her heart, and that’s when I know this is much more serious than I thought it was.
I brush my finger across her bruised cheek and lean in to kiss her forehead. I need her to know I’m here.
“Doc, I’m here,” I whisper in her ear. I rest my hand on top of hers and squeeze it gently. “I can’t stay, but I want you to know I’m here. I’m not going anywhere—ever.” My lips find their way to her temple and press a light kiss to her bruised head.
She doesn’t react to my hand squeeze or the kiss. She doesn’t flinch, she doesn’t moan—she just sleeps. The light purr of her breathing along with the sounds of the machines is all I hear.
“Sir, you have to leave now,” the nurse says quietly. I nod at her and press one last kiss to Reagan’s cheek.
“I love you.” The words roll off my tongue like I’ve been telling her this for years. I should have been telling her for months, but I was too afraid. “I’ll come back tomorrow.” I run a finger over her dry lips. I quietly leave the room and walk back across the hall to Lindsay’s room.
Matt is sitting on the side of her bed, holding a glass of ice water as she sips through a straw. “I need Mom’s phone number,” I announce. Matt and Lindsay look at me like I’ve lost my mind, and I’m damn close too.
“How’s Reagan?” Matt asks.
“I don’t fucking know. She’s knocked out on meds, but nobody will tell me shit for privacy reasons.” My tone is mocking.
“So why are you calling Mom?” Lindsay asks, confused.
“Just give me the number please,” I plead with her.
“I don’t know where my phone is. I lost it in the wreck.”
“Goddammit,” I mumble. “I’ll be back. Matt, can you please stay with…”
“Of course, I’m not going anywhere,” he interrupts me.
Three phone calls later and I pace in the hallway outside Reagan’s room. After calling the office where Reagan works and speaking with their emergency dispatch, I was able to reach Adam Gerard. Reagan’s business partner, and my stepbrother—it’s so weird, I don’t even want to acknowledge that right now. What I do want is for him to get me information on Reagan—and stat.
I can hear the clicking of shoes in the barren hallway and I see Adam with my mom hot on his heels. “Where is she?” my mom asks loudly and frantically. I nod to the room across the hallway. She veers off track from Adam and flies past both of us as she rushes into Lindsay’s room.
Adam stops in front of me. He’s a hair taller than I am, with dark hair and features. He really hasn’t changed since I saw him last, which was over fifteen years ago. I’ve got him by at least twenty to twenty-five pounds, though. We continue to size each other up before he finally breaks the silence. “What you’re asking me to do is highly illegal,” he says through gritted teeth.
“What I’m trying to do is get some fucking information on my girlfriend and baby.” I take a step toward him. Our chests are damn near touching. He exhales loudly and drops his head as he takes in what I’m asking him to do. I take a step back and watch him—hoping that he will get me the information I’m so desperate for.
“I’ll see what I can find out,” he says as he pulls his white coat on. His hospital credentials hang from the pocket. “Give me a few minutes and meet me down in the cafeteria. If they see me talking to you here, they’ll know I’m giving you information.” I nod to acknowledge him and watch him disappear into Reagan’s room.
I insert a dollar into the vending machine and pull the bottle of water out, finishing it in three swallows. I sit at a small table with a small vase of flowers in the center of it. There are a few people scattered throughout the large cafeteria, and two TVs blare, CNN loudly filling the quiet cafeteria with the voice of Anderson Cooper.
“Hey.” His voice comes from behind me. He rounds the table and pulls out the chair directly across from me.
“That was fast.”
“She’s still out. She’s on some heavy pain meds. I read her ch
art, checked her vitals, and left. I shouldn’t have been there in the first place.” He runs his hand through his hair as he looks around the cafeteria. Finally making eye contact with me, he leans into the table. “I could get in a lot of trouble…”
“Shut it, Gerard. I’m not going to tell anybody that you told me anything,” I snap at him. I take a deep breath and exhale loudly. “Look, I’m tired, and irritable, and it’s fucking killing me not to know anything.”
“She’s going to be fine,” he cuts me off. “She has some facial lacerations, which the best plastic surgeon in Wilmington already stitched up. She has some bruised ribs, possibly broken, a pelvic fracture, and most likely a serious concussion. The CT scan showed that there is no bleeding on the brain, which is good; and she didn’t break any other bones other than the pelvic fracture which will heal in time.” His voice trails off.
“Thank God,” I whisper and drop my head into my hands. My elbows rest on the table and I rub my tired eyes.
“But…” He pauses as he rubs the stubble on his chin as his eyes drop to the table.
“But what?” My hands fall from my face.
“There is no baby.” His voice is quiet as he delivers the news.
“What do you mean there is no baby? She was never pregnant?”
He scratches the top of his head and closes his eyes. “She lost the baby in the accident. There was noted vaginal bleeding and an ultrasound confirmed the pregnancy and then the loss.” He pauses. “There was some pretty serious abdominal and pelvic trauma. I’m sorry,” he says. “I don’t mean to drop this on you and leave, but I need to go.” I nod my head and try to swallow, but my throat is dry and I can’t swallow against the lump that has formed. Pushing himself away from the table, he apologizes one last time and leaves.
I clench my fists in anger. This can’t be happening to her again. She’s lost one baby; she cannot possibly lose a second. If I hadn’t walked out on her, she wouldn’t have been trying to leave for her trip a week early. I curse at myself and drop my head into my hands, pulling at my short hair in frustration and anger.
“Landon.” The quiet feminine voice of my mother comes from behind me.
“Now’s not a good time, okay?” I don’t even bother to look at her.
“There is never a good time for the news you got today,” she says, sitting down in the chair Adam just exited. “I’m so sorry,” she says quietly.
“He told you?”
She nods. “I just passed him as I got off the elevator. I came to get some coffee for Matt. Adam thought maybe you’d need me.” I actually chuckle at those words.
“I’ve needed you so many times throughout my life and you weren’t there. I think I can manage this alone as well.” I push my chair back abruptly and stand up. “Go sit with Lindsay; she might need you.”
“Sit down.” Her voice is firm and loud. I look at the small-framed woman who is sitting across from me and I am at a loss for words. “I know you are angry, hurt, and upset… and I haven’t been there for you when you needed me most, but I’m here now, goddammit.”
“I’m sorry, but you haven’t earned the right to scold me anymore. I’m no longer eight years old. I’m thirty, and I can handle this without you.” I turn and walk away. I know I’m an asshole and right now, I don’t fucking care. The only thing that matters to me is being there when Reagan wakes up.
After three verbal arguments, the threat of a lawsuit, and finally a visit and some sense talking from Mac and Gemma, the hospital staff allowed me to sit in Reagan’s room. For the last three hours, I’ve sat, walked, stood, and paced in damn near every square inch of this room, never taking my eyes off of her.
I promised Mac and Gemma I would call them when she woke so they could return, but there was no sense in all of us staying here, waiting for her to wake up. I will do that. It’s my job to take care of her now. I’ve wiped the remaining traces of dry blood from her face and hairline with a wet washcloth, and I’ve applied Chapstick to her dry lips. That’s all I’ve been able to do without knowing if I’m causing her any pain. Within the last hour, she’s slowly started moving. Her fingers twitch, or her head rolls to one side.
The nurses have been checking on her every thirty minutes, and I watch every move they make and every letter they write in her chart. I sit on the edge of the bed and run my fingers through her long hair, working to release some of the tangles as a nurse changes out her IV bag.
Warm fingers find my wrist and I am still waiting to see if she’s really awake. A gentle squeeze confirms my hope. “Hey, Doc,” I whisper and rub her cheek. I turn to the nurse and she moves around to the other side of the bed. “There’s a nurse here; are you able to talk?” Her eyelids flutter open and then close again for a few seconds before she’s able to open them and squint.
“Thirsty,” she manages to say. I reach across her to the rolling tray and pull off the small Styrofoam cup that holds ice water. I hold the straw and place the end of it against her lips. She tries to lean forward, but lays her head back down with a moan.
“Don’t push yourself, Doc,” I say and adjust the bed just a bit so she doesn’t have to lean forward. The nurse begins running through a checklist of yes or no questions with Reagan as I hold her hand and rub her wrist. Reagan watches me intently while answering the questions. The nurse excuses herself to go find a doctor and leaves Reagan and me alone for the first time.
I run my knuckles up and down her cheek softly, careful not to apply pressure. She flinches as I near her bandage. “I’m sure the doctor will explain everything to you, but you’ve got some cuts on your face, some bruised ribs, and a fractured pelvis. You’re so lucky, Reagan.” She closes her eyes and gives a slight nod.
A small laugh escapes her lips. “No wonder it hurts to breathe. It feels like I was hit by a train.” I give her hand a reassuring squeeze.
“Thank God it wasn’t a train; it was just a tree,” I say sarcastically. “I don’t know what I would have done if…” Words fail me, and tears fill my eyes. We still and silence fills the air around us. “I’m just so thankful you’re going to be okay,” I finally finish. “I’m so sorry, Reagan.”
She fakes a small smile. “We have a lot to talk about, but I’m kind of under the weather at the moment,” she says dryly. The door opens and the room is suddenly immersed in medical staff, two doctors, three nurses, and me. There isn’t enough room for all of us. I press a quick kiss to her lips. “I’m going to go grab a coffee while they check you out. I’ll be back in five minutes, okay?”
“Okay,” she whispers as I press another kiss to her lips. I want her to know I’m coming back. I’ll always come back.
Everything hurts. Every muscle, every bone, every organ—hurts, aches. But it’s my heart that is broken into a million little pieces. My eyes scan the empty room as my lungs struggle to find air. My bruised ribs are causing me from being able to inhale deeply, not that I could anyway at this moment. The doctors and nurses excuse themselves, promising me that this isn’t how car accidents like the one I was involved in usually end up. I heard the phrase “you’re very lucky” for the eightieth time in the last thirty seconds, but none of that matters. The one thing I cared about is gone—again.
The door opens and Landon steps into the room. I notice his normally bright blue eyes are dull, marked by dark circles under them. I didn’t notice how exhausted he looked earlier. The look on his face when he sees me tells me he already knows—he knew before I did. In two long strides, he sets the cup of coffee he’s carrying onto the tray table and takes a seat on the edge of my bed where he was seated before.
“Doc,” he says quietly. I just shake my head from side to side, my chin quivering. I’m not sure I can form any words.
“They told you?” he asks quietly as he rests his hand on my forearm. I can feel my lips begin to tremble and I drop my eyes to the hand that is holding onto me. “Fuck,” he murmurs as he tries to lift my chin to make eye contact with me.
“Look
s like you’re off the hook,” I manage to choke out before my throat closes up.
“What did you say?” he asks. His voice is quiet, but his tone is angry.
“I said you’re off the hook. Everything always has a way of working itself out, doesn’t it? Now there’s really no reason for you to stick around. You have no obligations to anyone except yourself,” I spit at him, my tone venomous. “Isn’t that what you want? Your freedom?” I yank at my arm, trying to break free from his grasp, but he won’t let go of me. “Now would be a really great time for you to leave, okay? You’re great at running, so go.” I lay back and rest my head on the pillow and the tears I’ve been holding finally spill from my eyes.
“You’re hurting and I’m sorry,” he whispers. He releases his grip on my arm, but pulls my hand into his and laces his fingers through mine. I don’t try to pull away. “But I’m not running anymore—ever.”
I choke out a sarcastic laugh, and he narrows his eyes at me. “I love you, Reagan. Baby or no baby.” The words I love you fall from his lips naturally. They’re not forced like I expected them to be the first time he says them. “I love you and I’m not going anywhere.”
More tears break free from my eyes and roll down my face and into my hair. “Can you please call Gemma for me?” I ask him. I know I shouldn’t be asking him for any favors right now, but I need Gemma.
“Of course,” he says quietly.
“And please go. Leave me alone.”
“That’s not going to happen, Reagan.” He stands up, dropping my hand. He hovers over me with the look of pure agony on his face. My head is throbbing in pain, my chest hurts, my abdomen hurts, but more importantly—I feel like my heart has been ripped from my chest. “I won’t leave you alone, because it’s you and me, babe. You. And. Me. We’re undone.” He points his finger at me and motions between us. “You know when we’re done? When one of us is dead. Until then, we’re undone. Do you understand? I’ll leave you alone right now so that you have some time, and I’ll call Gemma, but I’ll be back tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that.”