Page 90 of The Love of Our Lives
I swallow. Because it was an honour really, seeing life be brought into the world like this. Playing some part in it.
‘My pleasure,’ I say, as Sven brings the baby back to Charlie, and they hold her together.
‘Hope,’ Charlie says, looking down at her, then back up at Sven. ‘Hope Emily.’
And then my heart is melting all over again, and I clutch Charlie’s hand a final time. ‘I’m going to give you guys some privacy,’ I say, before gently slipping from the room.
Out in the corridor, I find Adam sitting on a chair, but he immediately stands up straight when he sees me, his eyes searching mine. When I checked my phone finally, all I could see were phone calls from him and Sven.
‘A healthy baby girl,’ I say immediately, and his face melts with relief.
‘Oh my god,’ he says, dragging one hand through his hair. ‘When we picked up all the messages down the mountain . . . I’ve never seen Sven move so fast. It was the tensest drive of my life, after that other one up north.’
‘But everything is OK,’ I say, holding on to his hands now.
He smiles at me, holds my hands back. ‘All because you were here.’
I swallow. ‘I didn’t do much really.’
He shakes his head. ‘But you did, you really did. I just can’t imagine life without you in it, Emily . . .’ he tails off, like he’s going to say more, but doesn’t.
My stomach twists.
‘Hey Adam,’ we hear Sven call behind us, ‘you need to see her.’
‘Absolutely,’ Adam says, looks back at me, ‘you coming?’
I pause, my emotions all over the place.
‘Do you mind if I go do something quickly?’
‘Sure,’ Adam says, tilts his head slightly. ‘You all right?’
He just looks so happy right now, so full of this moment too, and I don’t want to spoil it at all. But there’s something I really need to do while I’m here.
Someone else I really need to see.
‘I’m great,’ I say, ‘And I won’t be long, I promise.’
‘All right,’ he says with a grin, before heading into the room.
Walking away from obstetrics a few seconds later, I feel drained suddenly, so very tired from the events of the day. But I don’t have time to rest right now, and head quickly in the oppositedirection, towards a ward I know much better – an area that was always my destiny really. Because of course my old heart would eventually fail me. I don’t remember much about the moments before I collapsed – all I know is that Dad found me on my bedroom floor and called 999. And when I woke up in the hospital sometime later, I knew there was a good chance I’d never leave again.
I’d been in the wheelchair for a good six months by the time I was admitted here, on oxygen too. I spent all my time at home, in my room largely, drawing or sleeping but still hoping somewhere inside of myself that I might get that elusive heart, that I might get a chance to live a little longer.
But then I did get it and I did nothing with it – nothing at all. Because all I saw were my limitations, and how I could hurt people just by living my life.
And as I head towards the ward where I know my other self will be, walk the length of the corridor with this healthy body and all this life flowing through me, I see how misguided I’d been.
About what keeping Emily alive actually meant, and also how little I was helping anyone by doing nothing. Because the truth is, what people actually need help with, is pushing out their comfort limits, not just staying in them. Like with Jess in Amsterdam, and Mum revolving her whole life around me. When Cat was around, she did that for all of us. And by breaking free of my own boundaries, I could help them do the same.’
Coming to a stop, I take a breath as I walk up to the window, which looks into the ward. I have the strongest urge to suddenly turn and run away from all of this – just pretend it’s not happening, pretend again that this is my life now and it’s all just going to keep going. But that would mean I was letting fear reign still, and as I finally look at myself on the bed through the glass, I know with certainty that I won’t let it anymore, and I need to make my decision very soon.
My other self appears to be sleeping, her face so pale now it’s almost wax-like. Her red hair spills like blood across the pillow and she’s hooked up to a number of machines, which limp painfully along.
A large bunch of flowers lies on the desk beside her, from Mum, of course, because she always liked to make sure I had fresh flowers. I think she thought she could will me back to life somehow, make my heart bloom again. And as I hear a quick tread of feet down the corridor, I brace myself for seeing her.
I don’t know how to explain why I’m here but I turn to Mum anyway, smile gently at her surprised expression.
