Because He's Perfect

by Anna Edwards

  “I don’t want you to go.” Colin knew he sounded like a whining child, but Laurel just made things better. She made him better.

  She walked over to him and leaned down until their faces were mere inches apart.

  “I’ll see you soon,” she whispered. When she closed the gap between them, not even the cannula could keep them from enjoying the short but powerful kiss.

  Chapter Five

  Laurel loved being an Interior Designer. Between her love of colors and design and symmetry, the freedom to create something from nothing gave Laurel a sense of pride when it came to her work. Being a freelance designer afforded Laurel the ability to pick and choose her clients, like the ones she was flying to in New York, and set her own hours, although, these days, all of her free time was spent thinking about Colin Moore and his ability to make even being sick seem not so bad. Well, until last night.

  Usually, when Laurel boarded her plane, she kept the same routine. Her neck pillow went on, headphones went into her ears, and she opened her kindle to a new book while listening to Bach or Mozart. Something soothing to keep her mind off the fact that she strongly disliked planes. This morning she was distracted, and not even a piping hot cup of coffee or calming music could distract her enough to keep her mind running a million miles an hour with every possible thought focused on Colin.

  Throughout the flight, the hotel check-in, the next two days’ worth of meetings, Colin wasn’t on the back of Laurel’s mind. He was front and center. Laurel thanked her lucky stars that she got through the meetings amazingly well, and on Friday decided that she’d spend her day off playing tourist.

  Laurel’s morning was spent viewing the city from atop the Empire State Building, roaming the sidewalks of Central Park, and walking in a state of blissful happiness through the streets of the Theater District. So much done in such a short time that when it came to visiting the Met and the Van Gogh paintings, Laurel took her time taking in the history of the place. When she finally emerged two hours later and turned her phone on, all thoughts of a relaxed and carefree day were replaced with ones of concern and alarm.

  Nearly ten missed calls from various Houston numbers, the last three from Skye. She quickly found her sister’s number and listened to the ringing on the other end while hailing a cab.

  “Laurel!” Skye’s frantic voice called out the same time Laurel raced into a cab and gave the driver her hotel information.

  “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

  “How soon can you come home?” Laurel froze at Skye’s question, the muted sounds of crying and sniffling not lost on her.

  “Skye?” she questioned her sister, her voice resembling that of a scared child. And she was. Terrified even.

  “Colin is in the hospital. There’s a lot to explain that’s too complicated for me to repeat, so you need to come home. Now.”

  “I’m headed to the hotel. I’ll call my clients and cancel tonight’s dinner and tomorrow’s meeting. I’ll be home as soon as possible.”

  Laurel hung up, her head a foggy mess. When she got to the hotel, something she didn’t remember doing, she sat on her bed, staring at the cream-colored walls until everything seemed to break at once. Hot tears ran down her face, thick and heavy. As if she couldn’t stop them, images and worst-case scenarios drilled into her head that suddenly ached from the tension that was building. Nothing she did seemed to calm her down – not lying down, not calming breaths, not meditation. Everything was silent in her room, yet her head screamed at her as loud as a train whistle.

  Laurel walked to the desk near the window, and she paused to look down at the busy streets below. People were scurrying off to parts unknown, drivers honking and swerving around the city. Didn’t the world know that Laurel’s own was crumbling before it even got started?

  Feeling like she was on autopilot, Laurel packed the rest of her things, checked out of her hotel, and waited for her driver to pick her up. She even managed to cancel with her exceptionally understanding clients and make it through airport security before she even realized that she was sitting at the gate. Sitting meant thinking. In Laurel’s mind, thinking meant visualizing the worst.

  She never got to show Colin the museums. Despite an irrational fear of butterflies, she never got to take him to the butterfly exhibit he was so determined to bring her to, to overcome her fears. They never got to go to Memorial Park, walk through Uptown, or go to that stupid funeral museum that she planned on taking him to. Laurel never got to spend a real night with Colin, cook him her signature pasta dish or tell him that she loved him.

  Laurel’s eyes popped up, stinging with tears. She loved him. She. Loved. Him. Three weeks was all it took. But it was enough. It didn’t matter that Colin was sick or that he needed her help. Laurel loved him for him. His charming, warm, kind soul that connect with hers. His charitable nature, his sense of humor, his ability to see the positive in anything. She could go on and on in her mind to justify her feelings, but it was there. Laurel loved Colin like she never loved anyone before. And she might lose him too. But amidst the sadness in her heart, it was her drive to get back to Houston that powered Laurel.

  She pleaded, begged, prayed even, to whoever would listen that no matter what, she would get to Houston on time. As her plane landed, and she rushed with heavy luggage to her parked car, she sent the same prayers up as she drove to Dover Memorial, texting Skye on the way.

  “Laurel!” As she parked her car, Skye’s voice echoed in the parking lot. Laurel turned toward her sister and ran until they embraced in a tight hug.

  “How is he?” Laurel asked, barely able to let go of Skye. She was the only one who could bring comfort to Laurel and right now, Laurel needed her more than anything.

  “I don’t know. They won’t tell me anything. I spoke to his friend, Cal, and told him I was bringing you up.”

  Laurel sighed and reluctantly let go of Skye. “Let’s go.”

  They fled down the stairs, across the street, and wound through the halls of the hospital until they came to Colin’s room on the tenth floor. Laurel paused to catch her breath. She didn’t know what she was coming in to, or why Colin was here in the first place. All she knew was that behind this door, the man she loved fought for his life.

  Skye knocked on the door and turned the handle, but before she walked in, she turned around to face Laurel.

  “I haven’t seen him yet, but I was told to prepare myself. If you need to leave, let me know. I’m right behind you.”

  Laurel followed Skye into the dimly-lit room, but even in the unkind light, Laurel couldn’t stop the gasp that bolted past her lips when she saw Colin. Her hand slapped over her mouth and muted the groan that followed, but it did nothing to stop her from crumbling to the ground.

  Tubes and needles and machines were hooked up to Colin. It was probably not as bad as Laurel’s brain was making her believe she was seeing, but regardless, there he was, asleep in the one place he hated.

  A man rushed to the ground to help her up, holding out his hand. Laurel put hers in it, and they both stood up. He led her to a couch in the room and let her sit down. Despite the tears falling down her face – and she really hated that this was her normal as of late – she looked at the man in the white lab coat and started asking questions.

  “Are you Cal? What’s wrong with him? The last time I saw him, he looked bad, yeah, but it seemed his medicine was working. How did it go from bad to worse?”

  “Yes, I’m Cal. I’m his cardiologist. I went to check in on him Wednesday morning and he seemed better. I didn’t see a need to call for an ambulance. I got called in for a small emergency, and when I went back that night, he was out of it. I stayed with him most of the night trying to get his flu symptoms down, but when he spiked a fever, I took charge. I called for an ambulance, and we admitted him Thursday morning. After a strong round of meds, he seemed to do better, but early this morning he coded. We were able to resuscitate him, so we placed him in a medically induced coma.”

&nbs
p; “But that doesn’t tell me what or why,” Laurel replied. Her voice was hollow, void of any kind of emotion. She felt numb as Cal continued to try and make sense of everything.

  “It took a while to run the tests, but they finally came back. Viral Myocarditis. It’s rare that a patient gets it, but he’s been sick. Something as simple as an upper respiratory infection can cause the heart to become inflamed. To weaken. Add in someone who was born with a serious heart defect and who has to go on oxygen anytime they sneeze –”

  “And this happened.” Cal nodded at Laurel and took a seat next to her, but her gaze never left Colin’s face. Even surrounded by medical equipment, he looked serene. Beautiful, if a man could be. “What’s next?”

  The sigh Cal let out forced Laurel to look at him, and even she couldn’t deny the pained look on his face.

  “We can keep him here on close watch but…” His voice trailed off and he turned to look at his friend. Laurel noticed that his eyes were unusually bright, understandably so. “Unless we can get him a heart, and soon, he won’t last much longer.”

  Silence settled over the room as the two watched over Colin. The quietness allowed Laurel to think and it dawned on her that Cal so freely told her everything.

  “Why did you tell me his medical information? I’m not family, we’re not engaged.” She turned to the doctor, and he smiled, his eyes never leaving Colin.

  “He made you his emergency contact. Told me himself on Sunday that he wanted you to make his decisions if he was unable to. Got a friend out to the house to draw up the papers.”

  “But…” It blew Laurel’s mind. So much happening so fast. “I’m just his girlfriend. Certainly, one of his brothers is more qualified? I’m just –”

  “You’re his everything, Laurel. Come on, you can’t tell me you haven’t seen the way he looks at you? He definitely talks about you all the time and truth be told, he’s never spoken about anyone the way he does about you. Laurel, the man is in love with you.”

  Chapter Six

  “Here. You need to eat something.” Skye handed Laurel a pastry and a cup of coffee, but no matter what it was, Laurel knew that it would taste bland.

  Four days. Four long, agonizing days of sitting and watching Colin sink further into his coma. Four days of watching the man she loved become frailer, more distant. His hands were chilled, his lips tinged blue. The man in front of her was her Colin, but he was slowly disappearing. But her love for him never wavered, never ceased. If anything, it only made her love him more the longer he held on. She liked to think that maybe he was holding on for her.

  Laurel spent her days fantasizing of him getting a heart. Of them going dancing and running along the beach. He’d propose, she’d say yes, and then they would start their family. When they finally grew old, when they spent their fifty, fifty-five, even sixty years together, then they could leave the world. Once they lived their life, then they could go.

  But it seemed fate decided Colin’s time would be sooner unless he got a heart. God, how badly she wanted that for him. She knew what it meant. She knew that someone else had to go for Colin to receive it, and she agonized over it.

  “Any change?” Skye asked knowing very well that nothing was different.

  “No.” It was all Laurel could manage. Her throat was dry from crying so hard and lack of sleep. She barely ate, barely drank, and she rarely moved from her seat next to his side. It was as if she was disappearing with him.

  “Honey, you need to go home and get some real rest. Take a shower, eat some food,” Skye started, but Laurel gave her a look.

  “I’m not leaving his side. I can’t. I –”

  “Lo, I’m worried about you. You’re making me –”

  But Skye was cut off by a loud noise. It was enough to wake Laurel up, awaken her fear. Machines were beeping, alarms were blaring, and the screens were flashing red.

  A group of nurses ran into the room to check on Colin. One lowered his bed, and one started giving commands, but all Laurel could do was scream over them, crying out for someone to tell her what was happening.

  “Someone get her out!”

  A female nurse turned around, and with the help of a pale looking Skye, forcibly removed Laurel from the room.

  “I need to go back in there. I need to be with him! Let me go!” she cried, she screamed, she begged to be let back in. All she got was a door in her face.

  Laurel frantically tried pushing her way in, but Skye and the nurse were too strong for her weakened state. But she tried. She tried as hard as she could until she fell into a chair near the room. Eventually, two arms came from behind her, and she heard a whisper in her ear that gave her a momentary release.

  “He’s back, Laurel. He’s back.”

  Cal released Laurel, and she fought her way back into Colin’s room. As soon as she could, she resumed her spot next to him, holding his still hand. He looked paler than ever. Sickly pale.

  She held even conceivable emotion back in fear that she’d let them overpower her sense of the situation. Taking his frail hand in hers, it didn’t come without its reservations. The longer he was under, the harder it would be to wake up. After three days, it was looking grimmer, and Laurel was sinking further and further into herself and the dark depression that came with it.

  “Talk to me, Cal.” Laurel’s voice was so gravelly, so dry and hoarse, that her words came barely above a whisper. “What now?”

  “I just finished a quick exam on him. It looks like he’s had a small stroke. I’ve drawn blood and I’ve called for a CT scan.”

  Laurel shook. There were no more tears to fall, no more words to comfort her or bring her reassurance. Her voice was gone, and she couldn’t scream out. All she could do was hold Colin’s hand and shake like a leaf dropping to the ground.

  The world around her – the sounds, the sights – seemed to fade in and out with every ragged breath Laurel took in. An overwhelming sense of loss struck her yet there Colin was, lying on the bed. Still alive, still breathing.

  When Laurel’s eyes met with Cal’s, she saw the look in his eyes. She wasn’t uneducated. She wasn’t an idiot. That look told Laurel all she needed to know. One more code, one more stroke, a seizure even, and she would lose Colin forever.

  Laurel could see Cal’s mouth moving, but she heard nothing. She stood up, walked to the bathroom and emptied her stomach. Then, as if she were floating, she walked toward the door. A frantic nurse ran in, but instead of stopping at the muted calls of her name, Laurel found herself walking down the ten flights of stairs only to end up at the chapel on the ground floor.

  She wasn’t a religious person. She had her beliefs and would occasionally find herself praying to whoever would listen. But today, she curled up on the pew of the chapel, closed her eyes, and let exhaustion take her as she mumbled the Lord’s prayer.

  “Laurel? Lo?” The name calling to Laurel in her dreams was becoming more lifelike, the light shaking of her arm slowly bringing her out of her restless sleep. Her eyes slowly opened, and she sat up from the pew. Ignoring the pain in her shoulder, Laurel found herself staring at Skye.

  “How long have I been asleep?” Laurel couldn’t even remember what day it was, let alone the length of time she slept.

  “I’ve been here with you for the last four hours. Before that, we couldn’t find you for at least two.” Skye stared at Laurel with a look that seemed to permanently etch itself into her face – worry and fright. Again, Laurel felt bad that she was dragging Skye into something she never asked for. “And don’t give me that look, Laurel. I know what you’re thinking. It’s written all over your face. I’m here because I love you. Don’t think my being here is an inconvenience. Besides, I have good news.”

  Laurel studied her sister for a quick moment, but good news wasn’t what she saw. “I don’t understand. You don’t look happy.”

  Skye took her sister’s hand and held in it her own. “Honey, there was an accident on the freeway this morning. It was bad, and unfortun
ately, someone died. The man who died, his license stated he was an organ donor.”

  “What?” Laurel held Skye’s hand tighter, sat up a little straighter. Her voice was equal parts surprise and grief. The good and the bad battled it out in her mind and while the sadness for the death of one ensured the life of another, the good outweighed the bad. Marginally.

  “His family signed a donor waiver, and the heart was brought here. Actually, when you ran out, the nurse ran in to tell Cal about the heart. He determined Colin was stable enough and they took him in about an hour after you left –”

  “And you let me stay down here?” Laurel abruptly stood up, dropping Skye’s hand.

  “What was I supposed to do, Laurel? You were exhausted, so much that you fell asleep on a pew. The surgery was going on, and there was nothing for you to do, so I let you sleep. You’ve been dead on your feet, Laurel, and after today, I’m surprised that you’re not in a bed next to Colin. You’ve got to start taking better care of yourself, you’ll end up there.”

  Laurel’s rapid breathing began to slow the more Skye spoke until she collapsed back into her makeshift bed. Her hands slowly brushed down her face, and she let out an elongated sigh.

  “I’m sorry. I could say the pressure and lack of sleep are overwhelmingly stressful, but that’s no reason to go off on you.”

  “I get it, I do. And I’m putting it behind us because Colin is out of surgery and is now in a room in ICU. I woke you up because Cal called. Are you ready to go see him?”

  Laurel couldn’t speak at the sudden news that Colin was already out of surgery. She nodded at Skye who took her hand and led her through the doors of the Chapel.

  Chapter Seven

  The ICU held an eerie silence to it. Nurses quietly made their way around patient rooms, families held hands of those sleeping, and Laurel and Skye tip-toed into Colin’s room without so much as a shoe scuffing the tile floor. The sterility of the place only made the ICU seem sicklier than it probably was.