Page 39 of Bring Me Back
I can’t help the sob that rips from my chest. It feels like I should be the one making that call, but I don’t know if I could bear the weight of telling his mom everything that happened tonight, knowing it was my fault. Anything that happens from this point on is my fault. I hear Ev relaying vague details to Beck’s dad in the background of all the noise in my head, and I feel sick all over again. This is the kind of news no parent ever wants to hear. I have to get my mind together. One of us has to be strong here, and it can’t be Beck this time.
We pull up to the hospital only seconds behind the ambulance. They’re already wheeling him inside, a paramedic straddling his body, performing CPR. I’ve neverfelt fear like this is my life, like my world is so close to ending and the choices are all completely out of my hands. There's shouting, bright lights, the distinct smell of antiseptic, the sound of monitors beeping from all directions. A nurse and a security officer stop us at the doors. All I can hear is the steady beep of the flatline on the monitor attached to Beckett. People are calling out commands. Behind the glass, I see them use the paddles to shock him, and a scream escapes me. He’s dying.
I’m desperate for answers, but everyone is moving so fast. I catch a glimpse of him motionless on the hospital bed, his clothes soaked in blood and eyes closed. And then he's gone behind double doors, being whisked away to the operating room. I want to tear the doors from their hinges, to rip this building apart to find him and steal him away somewhere that’s only him and I. But I know they can help him in all the ways I can’t right now.
“I’m sorry, but you’ll all have to wait here. We’ll do everything we can to help him. Someone will be with you shortly to sort a few things out.” The nurse, an older woman in pale blue scrubs who looks like this is just another night for her, directs us to a small waiting area. Looking around the space, I take in the plastic chairs, the vending machines, the water-stained magazines on the table next to us. One way or another, my life will change in this room tonight.
Someone from admissions approaches us. They ask adozen questions about his name, insurance information, his health history. We all answer what we can on autopilot, piecing together the parts of information we’ve each got. I can’t think about policy numbers and birthdates right now, all I can wonder is if his heart is still beating…
Minutes feel like hours. Hours feel like days. Time drags on and on like it’s mocking me. I’ve checked my phone constantly even though everyone I could possibly be waiting to hear from is here. The doctors have come in a few times to tell us they’re doing all they can and everything is touch and go. I’m so tired of placations and platitudes. Their words are dismissive, like we shouldn’t be worried at all, but their expressions are grave. Even though I know they’re just doing their jobs, their words don’t bring me any comfort. The TV in the corner plays a sitcom from the 90’s, the laughter coming from the speakers feeling cruelly out of place in such a somber atmosphere. I’ve tried to pray and hope and beg the universe to spare me the pain of losing him.
We wait. And wait.
Surprisingly, the police never show up here. Everett gets a message from someone telling him things have been taken care of, and I clear it from my mind. I don’t have the capacity to worry about that right now withoutcompletely breaking down. Beck’s mom holds my hand on one side while Jaxon clings to me on the other. I know he feels the weight of blame as much as I do, but he shouldn’t. He should never have been put in the position he was put in.
Some time during the waiting, Ember and Rory showed up. As much as I love them for being here to support me, I can’t lean on them. I can’t fall apart, or I won’t be able to put myself back together again. But just their presence here is a comfort.
“He’s gonna be okay, Willow. This isn’t the first time the universe has conspired to take my boy from me, but he’s strong. I know this is so hard right now. Trust me, I feel it too. But we’re all here for you. You don’t have to go through all of this alone anymore.” Beck’s mom reassures me, and it’s nice to feel her support. It does nothing to ease my guilt, though.
“He’s a fighter, I know he is. He’s never given up on me, he won’t start now.” I tell her, trying to convince myself I’m right.
“The family of Beckett Hayes?” A petite nurse calls through the open waiting room door. I’m up and moving across the room before I can even blink, Breaker meeting me halfway and Beck’s parents following closely behind.
“Yes? We’re all family. Can we see him?” I ask, and her face pinches slightly. There’s nearly a dozen of us waiting out here. There’s no way we can all come into a busy ER without getting in the way.
“He’s out of surgery, and they’re moving him to the ICU. I can’t take all of you back, just one for now.” The nurse says, and I nod.
“Okay. Claire, it should be you,” I tell his mom, and she gives me a soft smile.
“Honey, no. It’s not my face he’ll be looking for when he wakes up. We’ll be here, don’t worry. We’ve got Jaxon.” She squeezes my shoulder, and tears sting my eyes. This is what family is supposed to feel like.
“Mom, tell him…please just tell him I’m sorry.” Jaxon says, looking so exhausted.
“Oh, my boy, you have nothing to be sorry for. This was all so far out of your depth, I wish you had never been put in this position. But hopefully this is where we start a new chapter.” I hug him tightly, leaving him in the hands of my friends.
twenty-six
The nurse leadsme through the labyrinth of hospital hallways to the ICU. I can see Beck lying in bed through the clear glass doors of his room. There are tubes and wires coming from every angle of his body. Watching the steady rise and fall of his chest is the one and only thing keeping me from completely collapsing right now. To see a man I know to be so strong and larger than life in such a vulnerable position makes my heart ache. But he’s alive. That’s what really matters.
I sit at his bedside, taking his hand in mine. The unhealed ink there catches my eye, and I spread his hand out on the bed. He’d had it covered when we were on the way home, but the beautiful lily flower staring back at me is what finally breaks my soul. Sobs wrack my body as I double over, resting my head against hisarm. My tears fall, soaking his skin, but I can’t hold them back.
I’m finally done running, done pushing him away. I love him just as deeply and completely as he obviously loves me. I don’t want to waste any more of the valuable time we have together avoiding that. A lifetime with him would still not be enough, but I’ll take every second I can get.
“I’m so sorry, Beck. This is my fault. You’re here because of my stupidity, and I’ll spend forever apologizing for that.” I cry, clutching his arm.
“Excuse me,” a knock on the door drags me from my grief. “I’m Doctor Anderson, the surgeon who worked on Mr. Hayes. Are you family?”
“Yes. Thank you so much for saving him, for keeping him here with me.” I say.
“Of course. He’s definitely alive, but he’s not totally out of the woods yet. We’ve put in a chest tube to help re-inflate his lung. We’ll need to keep him here for observation for a while to ensure he doesn’t develop any clots. There will be months of recovery from here. His abilities will be restricted for several months until he regains his strength. No lifting anything over five pounds, no flying, he’ll need plenty of rest and rehabilitation. I’ll set you up with our recovery team, they’ll help teach him several breathing exercises to help him regain the function in the injured lung. You’ll have to watchhim for any concerning symptoms. It’s going to be a long, difficult road. But his body is young and strong. If he follows our regiments, he should recover very well.” The doctor leaves several papers with information, and I thank him again and again.
Once we’re alone again, I dissolve into tears. Just when I think I’ve run out of tears to cry, more and more keep coming. I know the doctor said he’ll be okay in the long term, but I came so close to the unthinkable.
I stay this way, listening to the rhythmic sound of Beck’s heart monitor and clinging to his arm for dear life, for hours. Doctors and nurses come and go, all telling me he looks good and can wake up anytime. It’s just a waiting game. The sun rises outside, but I can’t leave him. Claire texted to let me know they were going to head back to Beck’s house with Jaxon so everyone could get some rest.
I feel like there should be more fallout from everything that transpired yesterday. But I don’t feel any regret for Cooper’s death. The optimistic part of me truly wanted to believe that over the years since I’d run from him, Cooper had turned over a new leaf. That would never change the horrible things he’d put me through, but it would’ve been something. Something better than knowing he was still the vile person I’d left behind. But knowing he hadn’t changed, only become more sinister, made his death feel less painful somehow. Maybe that makes me a bad person, especially knowingwe have a child together. A child who will have to live the rest of his life knowing he killed his own father. The amount of therapy coming in our future is ridiculous, but in some twisted way, this was the best possible outcome.
“Please come back to me, baby. Please. I’m sorry I tried to handle things alone, especially after you told me so many times we would be okay. I hope you know I was only trying to protect you. All of you. I’m so sorry, Beck. I promise I’ll never do that again. It will always be just you and me, forever and ever. Just come back to me.” I beg, not knowing if he can actually hear me. Some part of me wants to believe he’s heard everything I’ve said over the last 24 hours. All my mumbled, desperate pleas for him to be okay. I’m met with the same silence, the same steady beating of his heart, the same empty feeling in my gut where his light always is.
