Page 168 of Dirty Eoin

He grins. “I’m sure Mr. O’Connell will appreciate the visit, Miss….”

“Mrs. I’m Jaine O’Connell. I’m his wife.”

He nods. He doesn’t look me up and down or act surprised in any way. Instead, his smile widens. If I was feeling defensive, I don’t anymore. His expression is so warm and welcoming. I can’t help but return his smile with a small one of my own.

“So, you’ve decided to come out of hours. Are you and Mr. O’Connell planning on having a party and trashing the place?”

I laugh out loud. “I think my partying days are long gone.” My smile widens. “Sorry, I know it’s after ten. I just figured that now’s when he’s most likely to be on his own.” I glance at his name badge. “And I don’t want him to ever be on his own, Tim.”

A flicker of sympathy crosses his face, which causes me to swallow yet another lump. I don’t want pity. I want Eoin to be awake and back to how he was before he risked his own life to save my son.

“And you know where he is, right?”

I nod before turning and walking away. I pause before walking back.

“What should I do? I mean, in these situations. What’s best to do or say or…” My words fade out.

I don’t know what I’m going to do or say when I get in there. Tears prick my eyes, and I blink them back, but I’m sure they won’t have gone unnoticed.

“I’ve seen lots of weird and wonderful things relatives do to help their loved ones back on the road of recovery, but let me tell you what I would do.”

He rests his elbows on the top of the desk. The tears from earlier fill my eyes before he even gets a chance to speak.

“Mr. O’Connell is in a coma. He can’t respond to you, but that doesn’t mean he can’t hear you. He can’t squeeze your hand, but that doesn’t mean he can’t feel you squeezing his. There’s no guarantee he can hear or feel, but I think if there’s even a slim chance that he can, then it’s worth doing, right?”

I nod with an ugly sob.

“Because right now he’s all alone. And as his wife, I’m sure he loves you more than anything else in the world. So, I think it will mean the absolute world to him that you don’t treat him any differently. That you interact with him like you would normally.”

“Anything else?” My voice is a shaky whisper.

“Tell him that you love him as often as you can.”

He’s saved the latter for last because it’s the most important. It’s in case he doesn’t wake up. In case he doesn’t make it out of here alive. So I have no regrets.

But I do.

I have five months’ worth of fucking regrets.

Tears and snot. It’s all going on, but it’s my guess Tim’s seen it all before more times than he can count.

He passes me a Kleenex.

“Sometimes music helps too. Songs you’ve shared or listened to together in the past.”

I nod again.

Guilt flows through me that we never did much of anything together in the past. He wanted to more than anything, but I refused to because it was all about me and my stupid fucking grudge.

“Tim?” He smiles at me once more. “My being here? Let’s just keep that between ourselves.”

He nods. “Your secret is safe with me, Mrs. O’Connell.”

“Jaine. You can call me Jaine.”

* * *

I strugglewith the wires and tubes the most. I want to rip them out, then shake him and tell him to wake up. But he won’t wake up, and those wires and tubes are the only things keeping him alive.