Chapter 3

 

I stared at the speckled ceiling tiles, counting each irregular dot in my boredom. I’d been at it for hours.

There were 516 on the tile directly above my head.

I felt like Edmond Dantes from The Count of Monte Cristo in that moment, in his cell on Château d’If.

If there was a hell, I was certain I was in it. Half crazy, all broken, pain radiating through all of my body and soul.

Nathan’s words didn’t help. I’d accepted that he didn’t want me, that he was through with me. Part of me wanted to run into his arms, but another part reminded me of the pain from his heartbreaking note.

Round and round I went with myself, neither side winning. The only thing I could do was count the holes, since I had no answers. I was halfway through the tile to my right, the fourth in my dive into crazy town, when a light tapping on the door drew my attention. I glanced to the door with my eyes, not wanting to move my head, and found the heat had been turned up on my hellish fire.

“Can I come in?” Erin asked in a small voice.

“Why?”

She took a step into the room, and I scowled at her. She halted her movements, her hands fidgeting with her purse.

“Lila, I wanted to apologize for the other day. My behavior with Nate was unacceptable, I, well… I was happy.”

“Happy?” There was a definite edge to my voice.

She held up her hand. “Let me explain, please.” She walked forward and sat on the chair at my bedside. “I was happy, not because of what happened to you, because that was horrible, and not for what he did, because I kicked him in his bad shin for that.”

I fought a smile as I envisioned his pain, but it also made me sad he was hurt. Internally I hung my head; it was pathetic how much I was in love with him.

“I was happy because, for the first time in four years, I could see light in his eyes and a sweet smile on his face. Nate is like a brother to me; we’re practically twins,” she said with a smile.

“You don’t look anything alike.”

She let out a laugh. “Well, he’s only two weeks older than I am, and we were inseparable as kids. My parents were often out of the country, so I spent half my time at Aunt Sarah and Uncle George’s. We went to school together from preschool all the way up until college. If we hadn’t had different last names, most kids in school thought we were twins. He then went off to college and got married, and I gained a wonderful sister.”

I found myself smiling along with her, the image she was creating in my mind so different from the one I knew.

Her face darkened and filled with sadness. “And then that night came. I was on duty in the ER. I saw them w-wheel him in.” Tears began to fill her eyes and spill down her cheeks. “I only recognized him by a scar on his palm I gave him when we were kids. There was so much blood. His eyes were open, just slits, but they were empty. The side of his chest and abdomen were torn open, his leg and arm mangled and pointing in all the wrong directions.”

My chest constricted as she spoke, making my already difficult and painful breathing worse. I could see everything; I knew all of the scars that were proof of the damage she described.

“I was the one who had to contact everyone, and when they got there, I collapsed, unable to hold myself up anymore. The wait was excruciating. Surgery after surgery to put him back together, and on top of that, they kept him in a coma for weeks. When he came out of it, Nate was gone,” she said, choking back a sob. “I lost my best friend and my brother, and no matter how much I fought to bring him back, he slipped further and further away. When they brought him in the other day, I threw up, thinking it was the call I had been waiting for all these years. I was shocked when Uncle George told me it was because the woman he was in love with was in a bad accident, and he’d suffered a severe panic attack. When he woke up, he was in such a fury to find you, and in that moment, light broke through the clouds that covered me since that night.”

She took my hand in hers. “I know he hurt you, and you don’t know why, but you will. I just ask that you think about forgiving him and give him a chance to show you the kind of man he is. I know you’re one of Darren’s patients; he’s my brother-in-law. I don’t know anything about you; I only know he works with trauma patients. I’ve heard from your friends how your relationship was healing you, and I know it was healing Nate. To get back to my original topic—sorry, I ramble when nervous—we’re all happy you’re here. Well, not here in the hospital, but that you met Nate. You give us hope, something we’d pretty much given up on. Thank you.”

I stared at her for a long moment. “Thank you?”

“For giving us back hope. Am I forgiven for my horrible behavior earlier? Do you understand now? I was overexcited, and my timing was just pretty bad.”

I surveyed her and found her to be mostly harmless before I held out my good hand. “Delilah Palmer.”

Her whole face lit up. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you, Lila.”

“You, as well.”

“So, when you get your cast on, can I be the first to write on it?” she asked, excitement sparkling in her eyes.

“How old are you?” My lips curled up into a smile.

“Oh, come on!”

“No.”

Her bottom lip jutted out in a pout. “Nate wouldn’t let me either. Though it wasn’t fun then.”

“It isn’t fun now!” I shook my head. “What in the world would you write anyway?”

“Hmmm,” she paused for thought, her finger tapping on her lips. “Oh! How about this: Nathan and Lila sitting in a tree, K.I.S.S.I.N.G. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes Lila with a baby carriage.”

I stared at her in disbelief, and then shook my head and smiled. “You’re crazy.”

“Shh!” She leaned forward, her hand to the side of her mouth as she looked from side to side before continuing. “Don’t tell my husband. My kids know, but they’ve been threatened with Brussels sprouts at every meal if they say anything. My youngest likes them, so I had to threaten him with lima beans.”

“How many kids do you have?”

She beamed at me and pulled out her wallet. “We have two boys. Brennan is nine, and Alec is five.” She flipped it open and showed me a picture of two little brown-haired boys.

Erin and I continued to talk for another hour. She told me all about her kids and her husband, Trent. They were contemplating having a third child; Erin really wanted to have a girl. Then conversation moved to her growing up with Nathan.

“Oh, we used to get into so much mischief. He was the leader of course.”

I let out a little chuckle. I could totally see that.

“He was a wild child, but I blame Aunt Sarah for some of our antics.”

“Why is that?”

Erin laughed and shook her head. “She pumped us full of sugar. I swear, that stuff is like speed for kids. I don’t even let mine have it very often. This one time, we were about six, and he found some pixie sticks hidden in the pantry and we stuffed them all down. Half an hour later, he was running around the neighborhood screaming ‘I’m too sexy for my shirt, so sexy it hurts’ butt naked.”

Nathan walked in then, glaring at Erin. “Shut up. It didn’t happen.”

Erin winked at me. “I’ve got the photos his mom took.”

“I’ll have Trent find them, and then I’ll burn them.”

“That’s fine, but I also know where the video is your mom filmed as Uncle George started chasing you, trying to catch you. Full-Monty. And I know how to use YouTube now.”

Nathan shut up after that, but it was obvious he wasn’t happy.

I laughed, feeling lighter than I had in weeks. They were very amusing together. A spark of jealousy flared in me. If life had been different…

We spent the next few hours talking, sharing stories. Erin and Nathan had a much better and fun-filled childhood in comparison to my own.

I relaxed as the conversation morphed, and I got to see a different side of Nathan.

A nurse came in after a while to shoo them out; visiting hours were over. She also came to give me the next round of drugs, and back under I went.

 

 

My eyes fluttered open for the billionth time in the last who knew how many days. I had been in and out of sleep and everything was running together. I wouldn’t know if it was day or night if it wasn’t for the southerly facing room I occupied.

It was Monday…no, Tuesday. Right?

I sighed in frustration. They needed some sort of countdown on the calendar where I could read it from where I was situated. All I knew was that it was six, or so said the clock on the wall above the door.

“Good morning,” Nathan’s voice called, pulling my attention down to my bedside. It was rough from sleep, and it reminded me of mornings when things were different. Times when I felt safe, our bodies intertwined as we shut away the world and it was only him and me.

There he was, in a different suit than I’d last seen him. His hands were wrapped around my good one, tracing light circles on my skin.

He’d gone back to work that week on a reduced hours capacity. Caroline and Andrew filled me in on the meeting Jack had on Friday describing how Owen, the intern Kelly accosted with a coat rack while leaving our office one day, was filling in for me.

They also mentioned how Jack made up an interesting story as to why Nathan was out and working less over the next few weeks.

It fell very much in line with real life, including telling people he’d been in an accident where he almost died, and hearing I was in a bad accident sparked the memory and induced a panic attack.

Once again, I wondered how much Jack knew.

Jack had come to visit once, when Nathan wasn’t there, to check up on me. He let me know that while things weren’t quite up to my standards, they were chugging along and I needed to concentrate on getting better and not worry about the office. I also was informed I would not be returning to work for at least two weeks, and even when I did it would be part-time for a few more. I had plenty of sick time built up over the last few years, but he said he already had the FMLA paperwork in the works if needed.

“Morning?” I asked in a scratchy voice. Ah, yes, the sun coming from the left side of the window.

Nathan smirked. “Morning.”

He handed me my water, and I took multiple large, greedy gulps. “Thank you,” I said, handing him back the half empty cup.

“You’re welcome.”

“I probably stink.” The thought popped directly from my head to my mouth.

He chuckled. “Why do you say that?”

“I’ve been here for over a week and haven’t had a shower. I’m peeing through a tube. My hair has been washed with dry shampoo, and I’ve had a couple of sponge baths, but I just feel gross and can’t wait to get home,” I said while trying to be sly and sniff my hair, which he caught. I wanted a shower in the worst way.

“About that,” he began, his hand reaching up to rub his neck. “We’re working on getting everything ready for your release. We’ve mapped out a loose schedule so you’re never without anyone.”

“What?” I questioned, blinking up at him. Schedule? “We’re? Contraction for ‘we are.’ As in more than one. We as in a group of people?”

“That way someone will always be around if you need anything,” he replied.

I stared at him in disbelief. I was being babysat? “I don’t need anyone’s help. I can take care of myself.”

“Really?” His voice was laced with sarcasm and anger. His jaw tensed. “You can’t even walk! How are you going to get to the bathroom? How are you going to get your meds on time? How are you going to eat?”

“I can do it alone. I’ve taken care of myself my whole life, and I can do it now. I don’t need your help!” My lungs protested, but it wasn’t as bad as it had been. At least some part of me was getting a little bit better.

“Like fucking hell you don’t! The doctor says you won’t be able to walk on the crutches for about three weeks, which means you’re confined to a wheel chair to get around. How the hell are you going to get yourself in and out of the chair? You’ll end up ripping out your stitches, and you’ll be in pain from the exertion. Trust me on that.”

“I can do it on my own.”

It was stupid, I knew that. He was right, but I hated he’d decided everything without consulting me. I was still trying to sort out my feelings, and he was pushing himself into my life.

“Why the hell are you being so damn stubborn about this?” he asked in exasperation. Tears welled in my eyes, and his hand cupped my face to wipe them away. “Please, Lila. Let us take care of you. Let me take care of you. Pick another battle, but stop fighting me on this one.”

“Why? Why do you care?”

“You know why,” he replied, his forehead resting on mine. He took a deep breath and sat up, grabbed my hand, and placed it over his chest, over his heart. “I’m yours. All that I am, if you want it. I’m not much, but I know I can be so much more with you.”

I swallowed hard. I’d never been taken care of with the exception of the time I spent with Teresa and Armando. I wasn’t used to it. It felt…wrong on some level. Maybe that was because the few times my dad ever did anything like that was when we were in public, and I paid for it somehow when we got home. So, what would the price be here?

Logically, I knew there was none. Nathan and his family were doing things for me because they wanted me to get better. They all had a genuine care for my well-being, and not one born out of obligation.

Nathan’s gaze was locked on something outside the room, his expression blank. My eyes followed his to the opened door of the room across the way. The window shades were open, exposing another wing of the hospital.

“Nathan?” He still had my hand in his grip, but he was lost, his mind somewhere else.

“That wing is new. Before, you could see out to the interstate. There was a gap between the buildings, and when the leaves were down you could see a glint of the art museum in the distance.” His vision was still locked on the room, out the window. With a tight grip, and clenched jaw, his gaze moved back to me. “I spent six months in that room.”

“In that exact room?” My voice went up in pitch and my eyes widened.

He nodded. “After that, I was moved into my parents’ house where I spent almost a year. I hated having to depend on them, to depend on anyone. I got angry and lashed out at them on many occasions. I was lucky I had people who were willing and wanted to take care of me, to help me get better. You have that, too, Lila.” He brought my hand up to his lips and kissed my knuckles. “You’re not alone in this, and it’s only for a couple of weeks until you’re able to get around on your own.”

“I…I need some time to think about it,” I said, staring up into his beautiful blue eyes. They were mesmerizing as he spoke, and if I wasn’t careful, he could have me agreeing to a lot more.

He smiled and sat back down, still holding my hand in his. It was an innocent enough gesture, and I would be lying if I said it didn’t bring me comfort.

I would also be lying if I said I didn’t want it and much, much more.

An hour later, Nathan left to get some food; I wasn’t alone for long though, because Teresa showed up to spend time with me. I could tell she wanted to talk about something, but I wasn’t sure if I could handle it right then. So much had been going on over the previous days, and I had so many drugs in my system I didn’t even remember half of the conversations I had.

“He’s in love with you,” she said, not even bothering to ease into it. “I’ve been watching him for the past few days, and that statement is true whether you want to believe it or not.”

“How do you know?” I wanted, I needed, someone to tell me the truth. The real truth I either couldn’t, or wouldn’t, see.

She contemplated before speaking. “It’s the little things. He’s always around.”

“He feels guilty.”

“He’s considerate of your state: emotional and physical,” she pointed out.

“He doesn’t want me to get worked up.”

“The soft, loving looks and touches,” she countered with more force.

I blinked back a few tears. “I don’t know if I can do it. I don’t know if I can put myself out there, give myself to him again. How do I trust him with my heart?”

“Time. He’s offered himself to you on a silver platter as penance.”

Tears slipped down my cheek. “I don’t want it as penance!”

“Oh, Lila,” she said with a sigh, her fingers running over my hair. “He wants you. He wants to love you and take care of you. That’s why he’s doing all of this. For you. He wants you to know him, hear him out. Do that, and then think about it, don’t just react like you have been; think. Then make a decision on what you want to do.”

I sighed before nodding. “Okay. I’ll listen.”

“Good,” she said with a nod. “Now that we have that settled, I wanted to go over the schedule with you.”

“I told him no!” I groaned in frustration.

“And, damn it, I say yes.” My eyes popped at her curse. “Delilah, you are not alone anymore. There are people who want to take care of you. Not because they have to, but because they love you.”

I knew of all people Teresa cared for me. I trusted her, and her opinion. And to be truthful, it felt good to be taken care of, something I’d never had before. I didn’t know how to handle it all, though, and reacted poorly. I felt like my life was spiraling out of control. I had control over nothing, not even going to the bathroom, and that was a very difficult thing for me to relinquish.

Control was what I had been granted when I contacted Joan to be removed from my family. I ended up a very stubborn person because I was afraid. I felt if I gave up one ounce of control, I was losing, and being in the hospital, I’d lost a lot. That was probably why I liked to give up control in the bedroom—a release from my own made chains.

“Okay,” I relented. I needed the help, and I trusted Teresa.

She would be there. What I was afraid of was spending the evenings with Nathan. I didn’t know if I could take being that close to him without breaking down or mauling him. Not that I had the energy for mauling.

She smiled and kissed my forehead.

“It’s okay to be scared, mi niña, but I see good things, wonderful things, once the clouds have dissipated. Love is a beautiful thing.”

I nodded, tears once again streaming down my face. My chest was tight, trying to hold on as I let go.