Hopeless Vows (30 page)

“I told him I hated him at the reunion show before I walked away. He was trying to talk to me and I pretty much told him to go to hell. Now I might never get to talk to him again.” I wipe my face with the back of my hands as more tears fall.

“Don’t talk like that. He’ll wake up, and when he does, you can tell him how you feel and make it right.” He makes it sound so simple, so easy, but it’s not.

“I don’t think he’ll ever forgive me for the things I’ve done to him,” I say sadly. “I lied and hurt him. Hell, he served me with divorce papers, which I actually signed right before you called me.” My chest tightens making it hard to breathe. If Austin pulls through, I’ll still lose him. I’ll still have to walk away.

“Look, I’d take this one day at a time. None of us know what the future holds for us. I sure as shit never thought I’d be sitting here right now. Let’s see what happens tomorrow and worry about all the other shit later, okay?” He gives me a small smile and pats my hand that’s holding Austin’s.

“Okay.”

As I agree, I know it’s an empty promise. I’ll be here for him and make sure he’s okay, but I know it won’t change anything. With my broken heart beating slowly in my chest, I rub the back of Austin’s hand and sit in silence.

Austin

CLICK, CLICK, CLICK,
click.

Beep . . . beep . . . beep . . . beep . . .

Noises cut through the fog but add to the confusion. I can’t see anything, and despite my best efforts, my eyes remain closed. There’s a constant throbbing in my head and it feels like it’s been split in two. What the hell is going on?

“Have you been here all night?” That’s my uncle’s voice. I try to respond and ask him where I am, but nothing comes out.

“Yeah, I didn’t want to leave in case he wakes up.”

Jillian? My heartrate accelerates as does the beeping sound blaring in my ears, increasing the pounding in my skull. I fight to lift my eyelids again, but they’re glued shut. I need to sit up and see what’s happening, but when my body doesn’t respond, I start to freak the fuck out.

“How’s our patient?” some woman asks.

“He hasn’t woken up, but his heart monitor started beeping faster. Is he okay?”

“Let me check his vitals really quick.”

Patient. Vitals. Beeping. Headache
. My mind spins in circles as I piece together the events I’m blocking out.

I needed to run a quick errand and decided to take the bike out. I realized I left my helmet inside but said fuck it and left anyway. I wasn’t going far.

The light is green as I go through a busy intersection. Without my helmet on, I should’ve seen the car coming, but by the time I turn my head, it’s too late. It crashes into my side, sending me airborne. Time halts as I sail through the air, but picks up at warp speed as soon as I slam into the road. Pain like I’ve never felt before explodes in my head and stabs me all down my body. I continue to tumble and roll from the momentum of the hit, and I can’t stop myself. I flop over continuously like a rag doll, hitting the ground hard, which is followed by a sickening sound only I can hear. The crunch of bones breaking upon impact is nauseating. My battered body finally stops and I know I should try to get out of the road.

Before I can make an attempt, a crushing pain seizes my legs. I shout out in protest and make an effort to find the source that’s crippling my lower body, but I can’t lift my head. I can’t move, I can’t see, I can hardly breathe. The darkness is bearing down on me but I fight with everything I have to stay with it.

Tires screeching. Horns blazing. Dust flying. People shouting. A distant humming.

It takes a second to realize it’s not humming I hear, but a weakened moan, and it’s coming from me. The pain is unbearable and not a single inch of me doesn’t feel it.

Stay awake. Fight. Don’t pass out. I don’t want to die.

I keep these thoughts on repeat as I lay there hoping help is close by. But the dark edges are closing in, threatening to take me and I know I’m no match for it.

Jillian.

She’s the last thought that goes through my mind before everything goes black.

Light. I follow it, hoping it’ll lead the way out of unconsciousness. After recalling my accident, I couldn’t hold on and faded away. To where, I don’t know. It feels like I’m in limbo. Sometimes I can hear what’s going on in the room, but other times it’s like I’ve been transported to some other time and place. I don’t focus on it too much or I’ll swear I’m dying. I fight to open my eyes once again, but fail. I try to move a finger, a toe, anything, but can’t do that either. Frustration is setting in and pissing me off.

“Why don’t you go home for a few hours and get some rest?” That’s Uncle Brian again.

“I’m fine, really. I’ve been working a little on my laptop while I wait, so I’m good.” She sounds like an angel. God, what I wouldn’t give to see her beautiful face right now.

“Then why don’t you at least go down to the café and get a bite to eat?” I know that tone. He’s making it seem like a suggestion, but he’s really telling you to get your ass up and do what he says.

“I’m not that hungry.” She sounds exhausted. I wish I could wrap my arms around her and hold her like I should have these last few months. I could kick my own ass for being so damn pigheaded and pushing her away. Now, it might be too late.

“I haven’t seen you eat anything in the last three days.”

Three days? Damn, has it been that long already?

“I’ve eaten a little,” she says defensively. There’s a long pause before she sighs. “Fine. I’ll be back in ten minutes.” I hear the chair scoot across the floor right next to me followed by the sweet smell of vanilla. I want to bathe in it. I’ve missed it. I’ve missed her.

“You’ve got a good woman there, Austin,” my uncle says. “I just hope you realize it before it’s too late.”

Everything gets hazy before I’m pulled back into the unknown again.

I’m outside the front of my parent’s house on a bright day. It’s been years since I’ve come by, and I don’t know what I’m doing here now. There’s this strange pull, luring me to go inside. The longer I stand here, the stronger it becomes.

On unsure feet, I approach the front door and let myself inside. My entire body trembles and I’m terrified of what waits for me here. The last memories I have of this house are not pleasant and have haunted me for years. Entering, everything looks exactly the same. The furniture hasn’t moved, the same pictures hang on the walls, but it’s the feeling of home that’s most noticeable. I haven’t walked into a house and felt the warmth of a loving family since mine died. I stop in my tracks when I get to the living room, and I’m frozen speechless.

“My baby boy. It’s been too long.” My mother stands up from the couch with tears in her eyes and walks toward me with opened arms. She looks beautiful, happy. My chest aches as I take her in. She wraps her arms around me and gives me a hug. I hold her tight to me, never wanting to let go. My eyes squeeze shut while I savor the moment. How is this happening?

She pulls back and looks me over with a proud smile. My hands cup her face, not believing I’m able to touch her.

“How are you here? Where’s Dad and Christine?” I spin around, looking in every direction for them.

“They’re around,” she says vaguely. I can’t help feeling disappointed despite how happy I am to see her.

I don’t know how long I’ll have with her, so my next words come out in a rush, like a kid rattling off a list of things he wants. “I want to ask and tell you so many things. You guys have missed so much and I don’t even know where to start to fill you in.”

She shakes her head gently and leads me to the couch. “Oh, honey, that’s where you’re wrong. We haven’t missed a thing. We’ve always been with you. We saw you learn to drive, go to prom, total your car, graduate, I even saw those fights you got into and all the hell you gave Uncle Brian.” Her nose twists up at me and I can’t help grinning. She takes hold of my hand and pats the top of it. “We came to your wedding. A little unconventional I must admit,” she jokes with a smile, “but we didn’t miss it. I am so proud of you, son. We all are. You’ve turned into a remarkable man and exceeded all of my hopes and dreams for you.”

I choke up. This doesn’t seem real. I know on some level it’s not, but I used to pray for this when I was little all the time. I don’t even care if this is just a dream. Right now, I have my mom with me and that’s all that matters. That might make me sound like a pussy, but having her here talking to me is the best fucking feeling.

“I want to talk to you about a promise you made. One that you’re not keeping.” She arches her eyebrow in light admonishment.

“What do you mean?” I have no idea what she’s talking about and the sudden shift in conversation has me a little confused.

“I mean the promise you made to always say what you feel and live without regret.”

This guilt has been hanging on my back like a four-hundred-pound man for the majority of my life. Now’s my chance to make it right. “Mom, I’m so sorry for the way I treated you. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wanted to go back and change the things I said and did that day. None of you deserved that and I’ve hated myself every day for not telling you I love you before I went to Uncle Brian’s house.” I look down, ashamed. I’ve hurt for a long time over this. As a kid, I’d wished I could kiss my mom on the cheek, play catch with my dad, and torment my sister just one more time.

Regret is a motherfucker. She follows you, seeping into the smallest of crevices to find and hold you prisoner. Time might distance her, but she’ll always reappear to remind you you’re a piece of shit who fucked up royally.

“I know you didn’t mean it, we all do, but that’s not what I’m talking about. How much will you hate yourself if you don’t tell Jillian exactly how you feel about her?”

My body goes rigid at the mention of her name. I’m worried what she’ll think of me for falling in love with her murderers’ daughter. “I already have. She lied and deceived me. I want nothing to do with her.”

She gives me the same look I used to get as a kid. She’s not buying my bullshit any more than I am. “Do you blame her for wanting to hide her past?”

“Even if I could get past the lies, I can’t overlook the fact her parents—her flesh and blood—are responsible for your deaths. It’s not forgivable.” I shoot up off my seat and pace, needing somewhere to transfer this built up energy.