Where the Heart Is (Hearts Series Book 1)

by L. S. Pullen

  A nurse comes out to see her, and she points in our direction after an animated conversation and hand movements. Together, they walk over. The nurse ushers us to a private room and slides the tab to occupied before we enter. Then she softly closes the door behind us.

  “Due to the impact of Nathaniel hitting his head, it would appear he’s suffered possible head trauma. As you may know, he was unconscious and unresponsive upon arrival. Necessary steps were taken by putting him into an induced coma.”

  Air clogs in the back of my throat. A coma.

  I put my hand over my mouth, shaking my head in disbelief.

  She continues.

  “Apart from a few minor lacerations to his upper body, we’re concerned there may be internal bleeding and possible damage to his spleen, however, we are hopeful these are superficial.”

  Charlie pulls me into his side before my legs give out.

  The nurse gestures towards the chairs, but we don’t move. She’s not finished yet.

  “He is being taken for an MRI, so we should be able to ascertain the full extent of his injuries. Depending on the results, we will determine whether surgery is required. Until then, he will be monitored closely in our intensive care unit.”

  “What happens when you have the results?” I ask. My voice catches.

  She looks at me sombrely. “Like I said, that will all depend, but as soon as we know more, we’ll update you. And hopefully we can get you in to see him, but I warn you, it may only be brief. In the meantime, you are fine to remain here, in the family room.”

  “Thank you,” Sophie says gratefully as the nurse leaves us alone.

  I sob. The reality of what’s happening is too much. Sophie wraps me in her arms, and Charlie takes my hand in his as we try to comprehend the situation.

  “How did you get them to speak to us?” Charlie asks.

  “I lied…told her he was my brother,” she answers, looking sheepish. One thing she is not, is a liar. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know what else to say. I just had to try to help. I’ll probably go to hell for lying.”

  “Thank you, and so not going to hell,” Charlie replies.

  It’s not long before he’s pacing the size of the room. It’s the first signs I’ve seen of his discomfort being here. He watched his mum’s condition deteriorate in a hospital.

  Sophie associates hospitals with the trauma of what happened to us—that she’d likely never be able to bear children. So, right now is more reason than ever for me to fight off my demons and try to keep my shit in line.

  “I need to let Evie know,” I say to no one in particular.

  Charlie shakes his head. “I already did. I wasn’t sure if I should, but she is his next of kin. Besides, she’s the last person I want to get on the bad side of,” he says with a warm, affectionate smile. “I said I’d keep her posted.”

  It wouldn’t surprise me if she and Nana were on the next flight home.

  “So, she knows about the…coma?” My voice catches.

  He avoids my gaze. “No, I rang her before you arrived. But I’d rather wait until we know more from the MRI scan. Do you agree?”

  “Yes, but he’s in a coma, for fuck’s sake,” I say, panic beginning to strangle me from the inside out.

  Sophie grips my shoulders. “Sweetness, I know it sounds bad, but it was induced, which, believe it or not, is a good thing. They can monitor him better this way, and most importantly, make sure he gets enough oxygen to the brain.”

  I think my mouth gapes open.

  She rolls her eyes. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. You hear things when you’re stuck in hospitals, that’s all.”

  I pull her in for a hug. She doesn’t pull away immediately like she wants to. She’s not tactile at the best of times, but deep down, there are times when she needs human contact just as much as the rest of us.

  After what feels like forever and a day, we’re informed that Nate has been moved and that we can go see him, but only two at a time.

  “You two go. I’ll check on the parking. Charlie, what’s your reg number? I can check on yours, too, if you want?”

  Once he exchanges the information and passes her his keys, we both take off to see Nate.

  They warn us about the ventilator and tubes, but to not be alarmed when we walk in. Charlie steps in first, closely followed by me. I gasp aloud, feeling light-headed, like I might pass out. Charlie takes me by the waist, keeping me rooted, as I look at the mess that is Nate.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  I approach the bed, the machines beeping like mad as the whirring noise of the ventilator hums a sombre tune. The sight of the tubes attached to him is all too much. His face is peppered with bruises, and he looks lost in that bed, surrounded by all the equipment. I want to lie down beside him and hold him until he wakes up.

  Charlie reaches for a chair and begins pulling it towards the bed. It screams in protest—the legs attacking the floor. I cringe, the sound harsher than nails being scraped down a chalkboard.

  He ushers me to sit. I stare, unblinking, until my vision blurs and place my head between my legs. One, two, three. The smell of disinfectant assaults the back of my throat as I swallow, making me gag.

  Charlie squeezes my shoulder. “I know they told us… But shit, I would have lost it if you and Soph hadn’t got here when you did.”

  I place my hand over his as I sit up. “She went straight into fight mode. While I was a complete mess, she took control. She was the same when her parents practically disowned her—she kept going.”

  He rubs my back in small, circular motions. “She is pretty incredible. Something about her that reminds me of my mum.” His voice catches.

  It doesn’t matter if you lose someone you loved yesterday, or ten years ago, the grief is always there. You learn to carry it like an unspoken whisper. You know you were the lucky one for having known them, and you smile at their memory. At least, it’s the way I feel when I think of my Papi. Every time I smell cinnamon, I think of him.

  I lean forward and take hold of Nate’s hand. What I wouldn’t give for him to squeeze it. “Please, you need to be okay. I only just got you back.” I wipe my face angrily. “I can’t lose you, not now.” I stroke his face. His skin is cold; he’s naturally warm by nature.

  I don’t know why, but I need to keep talking. “You know that saying, absence makes the heart grow fonder? It’s the truth. I knew the first moment I saw you—well, heard your voice at the airport—it hit me like a tropical storm. It was alien, that sensation. I was used to going through the motions. God, Nate, you made me feel full again. You gave me space when I pushed you away, but I was coming back to you, Nate—”

  There’s a noise followed by a commotion as people come rushing in, saying things I don’t understand. I stand. The room is a flurry of activity. We’re told we need to leave, but I can’t move, I won’t.

  I pull against Charlie as he twists my body towards the door and pushes me forward. I dig my heels in until he lifts me off my feet. Grunting, I try mercilessly to get away from him, but he’s too strong.

  I can’t breathe—it’s like the air has been vacuumed out of the corridor.

  The wash-white walls… the flickering fluorescent light…

  A deep pulse clouds my ears as everything around me blurs. Disappears.

  Summers like this are always my favourite. I swing my legs back and forth over the ledge of the tree house. In the distance, I see my parents walking together—hand in hand. My heart beats faster, my stomach churning with a new-found anticipation. I blink to clear my vision, but they’re still there…heading this way.

  Carefully, I rise, all the while keeping my eyes fixed on them. My heart thunders in my ears as I look down. My mum raises her head and hand, shielding her eyes from the midday sun.

  “Well?” she calls up. “Are you going to come down and give me a hug, baby boy?”

  My throat constricts. Sweat trails from my temple and down my cheek. I force myself to move, the weight of my b
ody like nothing I’ve ever felt before. As I descend the ladder, every rung I meet is with moist palms. Afraid to slip, I grip each one tighter until I reach the bottom.

  I round the base of the tree, expecting them to have been a mirage. Standing, waiting for me, are indeed my parents. Each step is slow and precise as I move closer, my breath locked inside, afraid of them vanishing before my very eyes.

  My mum is the first one to move towards me. She opens her arms and wraps me into an embrace I’ve craved so very much. I breathe her in deep, the sweet smell of flowers tickling my nose.

  As she whispers into my ear, her breath fans my cheek. “My handsome boy, you’ve grown so much.”

  I grip her tighter, afraid to let go. Someone clears their throat. Peering over my mum’s shoulder, I see my Dad wearing a proud smile. He envelops us both in his big, strong arms.

  I choke back my tears—I’ve missed them so much. I started to forget what they looked like, how they smelt. A sob escapes me. I’m afraid I no longer know what’s real.

  My mum pulls back and takes my face in her hands she looks me straight in the eye—oceans of blue staring back at me. It warms me from the inside out. The moment of fear no longer holds me hostage. Tears dry, replaced with unwavering love that only a mother can give.

  “Sweetheart, we are both so very proud of the man you’ve become.”

  I protest. “I wish that were true.”

  My dad steps in. “It is. Your grandparents raised you well. It broke our hearts that we had to leave you behind, but it wasn’t your time, son.”

  I pull away. “I let Gramps down… I was selfish. He was sick, and I let him down. And when I found out he wasn’t your Dad, I lost it.”

  He smiles, his crooked front tooth on display. “You were hurt, no one thinks any less of you.”

  I rub at my chest, a shooting pain making every breath sting.

  “Come on, let’s take a walk.” My mother links her arm with mine, and my Dad places his arm over my shoulder as we walk towards the water.

  It’s so calm and peaceful. I can see the reflection of the surrounding trees and overhead skyline—eerily tranquil.

  I have so many questions. Where have they been? Why did they have to go? Can I stay with them?

  Mum signals to Dad. “Sami.”

  My whole body convulses.

  “It’s okay, sweetheart, someone else wants to speak to you.”

  I turn to the side as two men walk towards us. Squinting, I try to make out their faces. It’s him, but he looks so different—vibrant, full of life and colour. I don’t remember him at that age, but I know it’s him. It’s how he looked in the photo with Nan on their wedding day.

  “Why does he look so young?”

  Dad lets out a chuckle. “It’s when he was at his happiest.” He says it like it’s something everyone should know.

  The man beside him has his hands in his pockets—so carefree and unassuming. No—it can’t be…can it?

  “Nate, meet Samuel.”

  “Samuel, meet Nate,” my father says with a pride I’ve never heard before.

  He holds his hand out to me. I take it, and he places his other one over the top.

  “It’s good to meet you. I helped create your father, so in turn, I feel as though I had a hand in creating you.”

  I look between all three men. This is so surreal.

  Gramps clamps his hand on my father’s shoulder. “It’s time.”

  My father nods in understanding. “Nate, we have to go, but your Gramps wants to talk to you.”

  I leap towards him. “Please don’t.”

  “Nate, we have to, dear, but we’re always with you.” My mother kisses my forehead and pulls me into her chest. I breathe her in, not wanting to let go.

  I feel the emptiness before I even open my eyes. Everyone has gone all except my Gramps.

  A horrible shooting sensation pulsates through my head.

  He pulls me in for a hug. I hold on tight, still feeling his loss the most. He releases me and sits. I join him, my arms hanging limply between my legs—mirroring him. I can’t stop staring. He looks so different, and yet, the same all at once.

  “Gramps, am I dead?” I ask the question I’m most afraid of.

  He lets out a throaty laugh. “No, son, you’re not dead.”

  “So, am I dreaming?”

  He picks a small blade of lavender, brings it to his nose, and inhales. “I guess you could say that.”

  “Gramps, I am so sorry,” I say.

  “You have nothing to apologise for.”

  I shake my head. “But I do. I disrespected you. After I found out about my Dad and you, I was hurt—betrayed.”

  “It was never my intention. It doesn’t change my feelings for you or your father. I was blessed to have the life I did, and I never once took it for granted.” He spins his wedding ring. “I embraced it the best way I knew how.”

  I touch his arm. “I grew up knowing I was loved. You’re the best man I’ve ever known.”

  His laugh rattles from his chest. “I don’t know about that. I never felt deserving of the life I had. Evie understood me, though. Better than I understood myself. She never resented me for loving Ana, and I never stopped. She was my first love—the kind that imprints on your subconscious. But with your Nan, it was all-consuming. I’ll love her forever.”

  He wipes at his face. “I miss her, but I’m in no hurry for her to join me. Love has a surprising way of being patient. You tell her when her time comes, I’ll be under our tree—waiting. It was the first time I told her I loved her and meant it.”

  “She misses you,” I say as I pull at the grass, the texture foreign between my fingertips, like pins and needles.

  “I know. And I also know you have a lot of people worried about you. It’s time for you to go back.”

  I shake my head. “But I don’t want to leave you.” I’m not ready to say goodbye.

  “I know, but it’s not your time. We live inside you, son. As long as you remember us, you keep our memories alive.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  It’s been three days. That’s seventy-two hours, four thousand three hundred and twenty minutes.

  How do I know? Because I counted. Just like how I know there are forty-eight ceiling tiles in Nate’s room. It’s what keeps me grounded and awake.

  Nana and Evie arrived yesterday. I haven’t cried since before I fainted. I watched as they both cried and held one another when they came out from visiting Nate. I had to remove myself from that part of my reality.

  I have been whispering to Nate constantly. Mostly insignificant babble.

  We had a small reprieve when his results came back. He has swelling on the brain, but it’s decreased considerably since his first scan. They say the possibility of some memory loss is likely, but we won’t know for sure until after he’s awake.

  It’s the bruising to his spine they are still trying to ascertain, but again, they won’t know more until he wakes up.

  Every time they say that, I want to shake them. They’re the ones keeping him asleep. They’re the ones who put him in the coma, but they are going to bring him out of it later today.

  It’s been a hive of activity. Charlie, Simon, and Sophie—they’ve all rallied round—airport run, hospital runs, and yet here I am, refusing to budge. Like I have some claim over Nate. As if my feelings matter more than everyone else’s. It’s my fault. I left him. We could have been in his room, watching a DVD, or cuddling on the sofa, but instead, he’s wired to machines.

  My head lulls and I force myself upright. The cheap hospital chair protests my movements as I try to get comfortable.

  “That’s enough, Flick,” Charlie says, “I’m taking you home for a few—”

  I shake my head. “No.”

  “Yes. For a few hours. You want to be semi-alert when he’s awake, don’t you?”

  “I don’t want to leave him.” My body rattles with nervous tension. I turn to see Nana and Evie, just outside
the door.

  “Come on, he’d kill me. This isn’t good for you. I’ll bring you back after you’ve had some rest, I promise.”

  “He’s right, Felicity. You need to go home, take a bath.” Evie has a determined look on her face.

  I resign, no use fighting them both.

  Charlie puts the palm of his hand on the small of my back as he walks me away from the ward, out of the hospital, in the direction of his car. He drives in silence back to Nate’s.

  I sit on the edge of my bed but think better of it, and head to his room instead.

  It’s like he got ready this morning and popped out. His bed is unmade, a towel hanging on the chair. I feel him in every inch of his surroundings.

  I enter the bathroom, turn on the shower and strip. I hover under the showerhead before reaching for his body wash and lather myself, inhaling the familiar essence. I don’t bother with my hair. I don’t have the strength.

  Wrapped in his dressing gown, I hunt through his drawers and pull out a t-shirt and swap it for the robe.

  I climb up his bed and wrap my arms around one of his pillows. My eyelids are heavy, my eyes so dry, I let them close, just for a moment.

  “Well, are you coming, or what?” Nate asks.

  He’s awake and standing in front of me, holding out his hand. I nod and take his hand in mine. I see my reflection in a mirror. I’m wearing a beautiful, white lace dress, and Nate is dressed to the nines in a suit and cravat, his top button undone.

  He has never looked at me with so much love.

  “Dance with me, Mrs. Davenport.”

  Tears spring to my eyes as I repeat his words. “Mrs. Davenport?”

  He nods and pulls me into his arms. This is right where I want to be. He pulls back to look at me.

  “Flick, you look beautiful. I can’t wait to start my life with you.”

  We float around the dance floor, surrounded by a million fairy lights. He pulls me close, his breath spreading like wildfire over my skin.

  The song fades out, and the lights begin to dim.