Hopeless Vows (29 page)

I’m frozen, staring down for I don’t know how long. With a final, cleansing breath, I close my eyes, sign my name, and drop the pen. My eyes well up with tears as I lean my head back against my chair. That’s it. It’s done. I thought it would feel like a relief, like a burden had been lifted from my shoulders, but that’s not the case. My stomach is twisted into knots and I have to try really hard to hold back the emotions that threaten to spill out. Where I go from here I have no clue. Other than my job, nothing in my life is stable.

My cellphone vibrates against my desk, making me jump slightly in my seat. Not recognizing the number on the screen, I contemplate letting it go to voicemail, but curiosity gets the best of me and I swipe my finger across the screen to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Is this Jillian?” a man asks.

“It is,” I reply uncertainly.

“Hi, this is Brian James, Austin’s uncle. I hate to call under these circumstances, by there’s been an accident.” His voice cracks on the last word and all the blood drains from my body. “Austin got in a wreck on his motorcycle and it’s not looking good. He’s in surgery right now.”

My hand comes up to my mouth and I shake my head. “Oh, God,” I whisper. Clearing my throat, I find my voice. “Is he—is he going to be okay?” I hold my breath waiting for his answer.

An audible sigh comes through the line. “I don’t know.” He sounds exhausted and completely drained.

“Can I, uh, come down there?” I’m not sure how my request will be received. At this point, I’m sure he’s aware of who I am and why Austin and I aren’t together anymore.

“Of course, that’s why I called you. He’s at Regional.” The relief I feel is short lived as the situation weighs heavily on me.

“I’m on my way.” After a quick goodbye, I gather my things and rush to my boss’ office.

“Come in,” she announces after I knock on her door.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but I have to leave. There’s been an accident and Austin is in surgery.”

She arches her eyebrow and looks at me like my request is inconveniencing her. My nerves are a mess, but right now I don’t care about this job. Being there for Austin is more important than this.

“Will you be back in the morning?” She’s cold and hard to read. This will go one of two ways, but I have my fingers crossed it’s in my favor.

“I’m not sure. His uncle said it was pretty bad.” I rock on the balls of my feet, eager to get out of here and to the hospital as quickly as possible. Seeing her debate whatever decision she’s coming to, has me adding, “I’ll take my laptop with me and work from the hospital. I just need to know he’s okay,” I plead with her.

“What are you waiting on then?” She looks at me in a bored fashion, so I take the hint and head out of there.

The ride to the emergency room takes forever. My knees bounce anxiously as I fidget in the back seat. Traffic is a bitch and I get the only cab driver in the whole city who isn’t in a hurry. After snapping at him, he finally gets on the gas and we’re pulling up to the entrance of the hospital.

I run as fast as I can in my heels toward the receptionist’s desk. “Excuse me, I’m here for Austin James. He was brought in for surgery.”

“What is your relation to the patient?” she asks as she pecks away at her computer.

“I’m his wife.” The words are out of my mouth before I have time to think.

After clicking a few more times, she tells me he’s still in surgery but gives me directions to the correct floor where there’s a waiting room.

The elevators open to the floor Austin is on and I rush out and run down the hallway. The sound of my shoes draws the attention of a man. He turns around and I recognize him from the wedding.

“Brian?” I ask breathlessly.

He nods and gives me a hug. The gesture catches me off guard, but after several seconds, I return his embrace. “How is he? Any new updates?”

“Nothing yet.” He leans back from me with his hands braced on my shoulders.

“What happened?” I’m borderline frantic as I anxiously wait to hear what the hell happened.

He pulls away and leads me to a chair in the waiting area. The worry and stress lines around his eyes and mouth are prominent. The visible signs of his concern do little to ease my own anxiety. “He was going through an intersection and someone blew through the red light and hit him. He flew through the air before hitting the ground and having his legs run over by another car.” He looks down at his lap and picks at his nails. “So far they say he broke several bones throughout his body and fractured his skull. They’re monitoring his brain swelling. Right now they have him back in surgery to stop some internal bleeding.” The numbness is evident in his voice. He sounds unaffected, but the sorrow is written all over his face.

I stare in bewilderment as I sink down in my seat, trying to process his long list of injuries. “Was he wearing his helmet?”

Brian shakes his head solemnly.

This is bad. My body goes numb and for the first time in forever I start to pray.

Please don’t take him. Let him live. I’ll do whatever you want, just save him.

“I can’t lose him too,” Brian says, emotion wrapping his vocal chords in a tight grip. I look at him and there are tears streaming down his face. It wrecks me.

I grab his hand and squeeze it. “You won’t. He’ll pull through this.” My voice is firm and more confident than I feel, but I have to have faith. “He’s strong. He’ll fight and make it.” He nods and wipes the tears away with the back of his hand. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper, “for everything.”

“Oh sweetheart, it’s not your fault. It wasn’t then, and it isn’t now.” He stares into my eyes, making sure I understand his meaning. I can’t help it, I break down. He wraps his arms around me in a comforting hug and we hold each other while we let out our sorrow. I sob for the things we both lost many years ago, for the uncertainty we face now, and for not telling Austin I love him the last time we spoke.

Many agonizing hours pass without a word from anyone. Brian and I take turns asking the nurse at the information desk for updates, only to be told there are none. We keep repeating the mantra that no news is good news, but it’s hard to stay positive when you’re kept completely in the dark. The room is quiet, the ticking of the wall clock the only noise filling the room. To me, it’s like a blaring siren that brings attention to the minutes that keep passing.

Right when I think I might go insane, a man in scrubs walks up to us. We both sit up straight in our chairs and I don’t think either of us breathes. His tired eyes meet ours and I brace myself for whatever might come.

“Are you the family of Austin James?”

“Yes,” we answer in unison. Brian stands, but I remain in my seat. My shaky legs are too weak to support me right now.

He removes his surgical cap. “I’m Dr. Betashari and I was the trauma surgeon on duty today. Austin made it through surgery.” Brian and I let out a collective sigh, beyond relieved to know he’s alive. The doctor has a seat in front of us and continues to explain. “The internal bleeding was difficult to stop and his blood pressure dropped dangerously low. He required a blood transfusion during surgery to keep from going into cardiac arrest. After exploring his abdomen, we concluded the bleeding was coming from his stomach and his spleen, which had ruptured. We were able to repair the stomach, but had to remove the spleen.”

Blood transfusion.

Cardiac arrest.

Rupture.

Bleeding.

The words run continuously through my head as I try to digest the information the doctor is bombarding us with. The more he keeps talking, the worse everything becomes. The relief I felt knowing Austin made it through surgery is replaced with sheer terror. I’m terrified of what else is going to come out of the doctor’s mouth, and I’m scared speechless to know what the prognosis is.

“But he’s okay?” Brian questions weakly.

“For now, but I have to tell you there were other complications. The nurse told you there was swelling to the brain when we first assessed his injuries. While in surgery, the swelling continued and was putting pressure on the brain. Without some sort of release, the outcome could be fatal, so we had to remove a piece of skull to help alleviate the pressure.” I gasp as my hand covers my mouth and my eyes widen. They
removed
a piece of his skull? My head drops into my palms as I quietly cry, doing my best to hear what’s next.

“What about his other injuries? The nurse mentioned broken bones.” I feel utterly useless while Brian asks all the questions, but I don’t know what to say or what to do. I’m scared, helpless, and desperate to see him. I just want to look at his face, hold his hand, see with my own two eyes that he’s breathing.

“Both of his legs are broken as well as his right collarbone and three ribs on his left side. We did a CT scan to ensure no major arteries were severed by the broken bones or fragments. Since we were in the clear on that front, we wrapped his legs and put his arm in a sling to mobilize his clavicle until he’s stabilized. Once that occurs, then the orthopedic surgeon will talk about surgery to set those. Right now though, our main concern is the head trauma.”

“When can I see him?” I blurt out when I look up. I don’t want to hear any more of this. I just want to hear he’s going to be okay. If the doctor can’t say that, then he can just shut up at this point.

“They should have him in recovery soon. I’ll warn you that he looks rough and he won’t be awake. We’ve put him in a medically induced coma to help him heal, which means he’s also on a ventilator. But there should be someone down here shortly to come get you and lead you to his room to visit for a bit, okay?”

I nod while Brian says, “Thank you, doctor.” They shake hands, the doctor leaves, and we continue to wait.

“He’ll get through this. He’s gonna make it,” Brian says, breaking the silence. I’m not sure if he’s trying to convince me or himself.

“Yeah, he’s got to.” My eyes never stray from the set of doors that leads back to ICU, waiting anxiously for someone to take me to Austin.

A wide range of emotions run through my body, clawing and pulling to get to the surface. Each one wanting to consume me. I’m angry at the driver who ran the red light. I’m in shock that this is happening to begin with. I’m relieved he’s made it this far. I’m terrified beyond belief this will be as good as it gets. But through the darkened mass sitting below the surface, there are two, small beaming lights, trying to break through the shadows of the pain.

Love and hope.

I cling to them and hold them close, praying it gets all of us through this.

I want to see Austin more than anything, yet I don’t. I don’t know if I can handle seeing him this way. A hand grabbing mine brings my focus away from the door to the room the nurse led us to, and to Brian. “You can do this, okay? He needs you.”

I press my lips together, close my eyes, and nod. We open the door and walk in. The first thing I notice is the noise of several machines. Some beep, others hiss. But as my eyes land on Austin laying lifelessly in bed, everything else fades into the background.

“Oh, God,” I mutter. My feet carry me swiftly to his bedside where the full effect of the damage hits me in the gut. Bandages wrap around his head. Tufts of matted hair stick out at the top. His face is swollen and bruised making him unrecognizable. Dry, cracked lips surround the plastic tube that goes down his throat to help him breath. Tubes and wires are going every which way. The sight is overwhelming and heartbreaking.

“Austin,” I whisper as I gingerly slip my hand into his and kiss the top of it.

“Here,” Brian says. I look behind me and see he’s brought a chair over for me.

“Thank you.” I take a seat and stare at Austin, watching the rise and fall of his chest. I’d find it comforting if I knew he was doing it on his own and not by machine. My last words to him come to mind and I lose it.

“I’m so sorry,” I say through my tears. My head rests on the bed as I continue to cry. The guilt I feel is indescribable. I’ll never forgive myself if those are the last words I ever get to say to him. “I don’t hate you.” My body shakes as sobs wrack my body.

Brian rubs my back soothingly until I pull myself together. “For what it’s worth, he knows you love him.”