Dylan's Redemption (20 page)

She fluttered her eyes and squinted from the too-bright room. Someone turned the light off above her. The pain behind her eyes eased.

The impossible sound of Dylan’s voice came again. “Jess.”

“Dylan,” she whispered, confused and so hopeful and happy he was here. “Did you come to see her? You changed your mind?”

She wanted to see his face. She’d missed him so much, and she’d been alone for so long without him. He’d finally decided to come. She’d hoped, prayed he’d change his mind. That he would want her and Hope. Groggy, she tried to focus. The doctor must have given her something to sleep because she’d been up all night with Hope in the NICU.

Everywhere hurt and something about that didn’t seem right.

“Jess, honey, wake up for me.” Anxiety and worry filled his voice. “Open your eyes and look at me.”

She opened her eyes and gave him a half smile, worried how he’d react about the baby and if he’d stay or leave her again. She hoped he wanted to see his daughter and be a part of her life.

“Did you see her already? We can go see her together. She’s so beautiful.”

He glanced over her, and she followed his line of vision to Greg. She tried to smile, but it never quite tilted her lips. “We need to go see her. Will you take me?”

Greg winced. “J.T. You’ve been in an accident. You were hit by a car. Do you remember?” Greg asked, touching her cheek with his fingertips. At her blank stare, Greg finished. “I hate to break your heart again, but Hope isn’t here.”

She shifted her gaze from Greg to Dylan. Older now, he still had that strong hard jaw, the muscles in it working. Creases lined his brow and dark circles marred his eyes. He needed to shave and his hair was raked back in messy disarray. “This isn’t right.”

Greg’s words sank in. She’d been in a car accident. No. She’d been hit by a car. The visions flashed in her mind. She’d scooped up a little boy. She remembered the thump of the car hitting her legs and back, the crack of her head hitting the windshield, and they’d flown through the air.

She glanced at Greg, her eyes filling with tears. His image blurred. “She’s not here.”

“No, honey. I’m sorry. She’s gone. We lost her a long time ago.”

“But, I saw her, held her in my arms. I could smell her,” she sobbed.

“A dream, J.T.” Greg wiped away a tear from her face. “A wonderful dream, honey. I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say. You’ve been through so much.”

It washed over her. His words brought it all back. This wasn’t the time she stayed in the hospital to give birth to Hope. Hope was gone and Dylan was back.

The car accident came back to her. She stared at him, but saw the little boy lying on her chest and calling for his daddy. Dylan’s son. His mother standing over her. The guilty, horrified look on her face when she realized she’d just saved her grandchild. Dylan had a son. Her head spun. The room tilted. She turned back to Greg, her anchor. He helped her get through losing Hope. He’d help her now. He wouldn’t leave her alone.

“Hope?”

Greg squeezed her hand. “He knows, J.T. I had to tell him after what happened. His mother came here and said some terrible things. I couldn’t let it go. He needed to know the truth.”

Pain and misery etched lines in Dylan’s face and turned his lips into a deep frown. He knew about their daughter. He knew, and he hated her.

“I’m sorry. I tried. I tried so hard to do it right.”

Her heart monitor kicked into top speed. Dylan listened to its steady beep for days and the sound of it stomping out this new rhythm worried him. She needed to calm down.

“Shh. You did everything you could, Jess. I’m so sorry you went through that alone. I should have been there for you and Hope.”

“She said you didn’t want me. She lied. Why would she lie?”

“Jess, calm down. You need to take a breath.”

Tears streamed down her face and she gasped for air that never filled her lungs. He held her hand all this time, but now hers gripped his so tightly her nails bit into his skin.

Dylan didn’t like this: the panic stealing her breath, making her skin pale, and her eyes wide with desperation. He leaned over the bed and pressed his palm to her cheek to make her look at him. “Jess, calm down, sweetheart. Please. Calm down.”

“You didn’t get to see her. She lied. You didn’t get to see her because she lied. I only had her for five days. She lied.” She gasped and the monitors started sounding piercing alarms. Two nurses and the doctor burst into her room. She desperately tried to suck in air, but never caught her breath.

Her eyes rolled back in her head.

The doctor ordered, “Get out. Let us take care of her.”

Dylan didn’t want to leave her. Not when she needed him.

Greg held him by the arm and tried to haul him outside so the nurses and doctors could tend to Jessie, but he struggled to stay.

“Come on. Let them help her.” Greg pulled, but Dylan’s hand still held Jessie’s. He held on until the last possible moment before he had no choice but to let her go or pull her out of the bed.

They sat in silence in the waiting room. Both held cups of coffee neither drank.

“Gentlemen,” the doctor said, bringing them out of their own thoughts and drawing their attention. “We’ve stabilized her. Can you tell me what happened before we came in?”

“She woke up confused and thought she had just given birth. She wanted to go and see her daughter. The baby died years ago,” Greg said, concerned. “Then, she realized this wasn’t the past.”

Nothing else to say, and yet that didn’t explain anything really. Leaning over, Greg braced his forearms on his knees and stared at his feet. “She came out of her confusion right away and realized this wasn’t the past. But that didn’t help her. It made things worse. Or better. Or the same.” Greg shook his head, struggling to figure out what happened.

“Some terrible circumstances surround the death of my daughter.” Dylan tried to clear up Greg’s explanation. “Jessie woke up confused between the past and the present.” He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s complicated. She’s had a rough couple of weeks and things are piling up on her. She couldn’t catch her breath and the heart monitor sounded the alarm.”

“That explains a lot,” the doctor replied. “She had a panic attack. Her blood pressure skyrocketed and she passed out. Part of the problem is the concussion,” the doctor told them. “There’s a bigger problem now. She’s got an infection. The antibiotics we’ve given her aren’t working as quickly as I’d like. We’ve changed to something else and upped the dose. The next few days are crucial.”

“Doctor, she thinks I blame her for our daughter’s death. Are you telling me I might lose her before I get a chance to tell her that isn’t true?”

“I’m telling you she’s in a very fragile state and the next couple of days are critical. She needs to rest and remain calm. Her head injury is still a factor in her recovery. The fact that she’s confused about what year it is tells us the concussion isn’t better. I’ve sent her for another MRI scan, so we can take a look. The infection in her back from the glass is of grave concern.”

“Tell us the truth, Doctor. Is she going to pull through this?” Greg asked.

Neither of them really wanted to hear the answer. She couldn’t die like this. Not with all this mess just hanging out there unresolved. From the moment Dylan had seen her again at Brian’s house, all he’d wanted was another chance, start where they left off and build a future together. How could he do that if he lost her before he even had the chance to say he was sorry?

“We’re doing everything we can for her. She’ll be back from the MRI scan in a half hour. Why don’t you both go home and get some rest?” Shrugging, he added, “I know it’s a futile attempt to make you leave. You aren’t going anywhere until Jessie is back on her feet again. I wish I could tell you that will be soon.”

“Thanks, Doc. We appreciate everything you’re doing. Really,” Dylan added. He took his seat in the waiting room next to Greg and sat back with a sigh.

The sun sank lower in the sky, darkening to night. Time passed unnoticed.

Greg’s deep voice broke the silence. “She thought she’d just had Hope. She thought you’d come to see her.” Greg took a second. “I can’t get over that.”

Dylan’s thoughts ran much the same way. He hated that she’d finally woken up only to find herself in her worst nightmare, their daughter gone and him knowing the truth. The weight of it dragged his spirits down even more. She’d carried the burden of losing their daughter alone, thinking he didn’t want her. His mother told her that . . . more than once. After he left her without a word, she believed it, because he hadn’t done a good enough job of telling or showing her that could never be true.

Well, he’d spend the rest of his life proving to her that he loved her more than anything in this world.

He thought of Will and his throat tightened. He loved that little boy more than life itself. He couldn’t imagine keeping something as monumental as a child from him. He swore when Will grew up, he’d never treat him so inhumanely. If he didn’t like one of Will’s girlfriends, he’d be objective and not interfere unless absolutely necessary. He’d never undermine one of his relationships the way his mother had done to him. He’d never harm another person the way his mother hurt Jessie. She’d practically destroyed her. He couldn’t forgive his mother for what she’d done.

“I’ve never seen someone in so much pain. Then, she realized I knew, and she apologized to me. God. She apologized. I didn’t get a chance to explain, or tell her I’d finally heard the truth from my mother. I didn’t get a chance to tell her she had nothing to be sorry about, that I’m the one who’s sorry. I wanted to tell her how much I love her, and how grateful I am to her for saving Will. I didn’t get to explain how I got Will. And now I might not get the chance, and it’s all because of my own mother. All she had to do was call and tell me Jessie was pregnant. I’d have been there for her, or had her come to me. I’d have taken care of her. I’d have seen my daughter.”

Greg put a hand on his shoulder and offered what comfort he could. It wasn’t nearly enough. Dylan had been dealt one blow after another. He was a man in love with a woman who had endured more hardship than one person should ever have in their life.

“She’ll make it through this. She’s tough. She pulled herself through losing Hope. She’ll drag herself out of this,” Greg tried to reassure him.

“She shouldn’t have to. Again, my mother caused all of this. She was supposed to watch Will. She wasn’t paying attention, and he ran into the street. Her fault. Again.”

“Not that I want to defend anything your mother has done, but that could happen to anyone. Kids are fast.”

“Exactly why you have to watch them every second.” Dylan refused to give in or allow an ounce of sympathy to rise up for his mother. As far as he was concerned, this was her fault. If he lost Jessie forever, he didn’t know what he’d do. A crushing force enveloped his heart at just the thought of losing her. If he thought he’d loved her eight years ago, and it had been so frightening he’d had to run away, it didn’t compare to the love he felt for her now.

She was everything to him.

He’d learned his lesson. Leaving now wasn’t an option. He intended to marry her. The day he’d stood on the new porch of her father’s renovated house, he’d held her in his arms and known he only ever felt whole when he was with her. Without her in his life, he wasn’t really living.

“She’ll make it through this,” Greg said again.

Dylan needed to hear it and prayed it came true.

Chapter Twenty-Two

S
O HOT
. W
AY
too hot. She needed to take the covers off and turn on the air conditioner.

Why is the house so hot?

Maybe she left the heater turned up too high. She tried to throw off the sheets, but someone held her arm still. She tried to kick her legs to push the covers down and pain seared up her thigh, making her grab for her leg. Fire shot through her shoulder. She tried to roll over and found herself barricaded on both sides by pillows.

“Stop, Jess. Stop moving.”

Someone put a cold cloth on her head and she raised her face to it. It felt so good to have something cool against her skin. She felt like she’d been in the desert for days, her throat dry and gritty, like she’d eaten sand.

“Water,” she tried to say and knew nothing came out of her mouth. She tried to work up some spit and nothing happened. Someone’s breath washed over her cheek. “Water,” she said again on an exhalation

“Take a sip, Jess. Just a little. You don’t want to make yourself sick.”

The voice sounded so familiar, but she couldn’t think past her desperate need for something to drink.

“That was an absurd statement, I know. Makes me want to laugh. Almost. You can’t possibly get sicker than you already are.”

The voice sounded lost and held a wealth of sadness. Drawn to the deep sound of it, she wanted to hear it again. A straw pressed to her lips and she drank deeply. Unsure of her surroundings, she tried to open her eyes. She managed a narrow slit, and discovered Dylan’s hips and thighs nicely shaped in a pair of worn jeans. She wondered if there could ever be a time she didn’t recognize him. Despite the pain and grogginess, a deep well of relief washed over her, knowing he watched over her.

He took the cold cloth from her head and turned and rinsed it in a bowl beside the bed. Then he ran the cool cloth over her neck and down her arm. With the room spinning, she felt like someone had put her on a spit and was roasting her alive.

Dylan rinsed then put the cold, wet cloth on her head and tried to cool her down. Her flesh burned under his hands. It went in waves. She could go for hours with a low temperature, and then it spiked. For two days, he’d stayed beside her trying to keep her cool while the doctors did everything they could to stop the infection ravaging her body. Drugs pumped into her hour after hour, and nothing. Every time he thought the fever had finally broken, it came back with a vengeance. Like now.

He needed to call the nurse to come and help him change the wet sheets before she started shivering. He’d cool her down with the water and wash away the sweat. She’d feel better if she were clean and cool. Her fever would go down. The shivers would come and they’d warm her again with another blanket. This same routine played out for two days.