Characters belong to SM and the beautiful music that inspired this piece belongs to Ryan Tedder and his band of musical geniuses. The rest is all from me.
Chapter 6
-2013-
"That's quite the story you're reading there." I looked up from the journal and
saw Angela leaning against the doorframe. She smiled as she entered the room,
perching herself on the chair next to mine.
"Well, we were quite the pair when we were younger," I said, bending the
corner of one page to keep my spot and closing the cover.
"You still are."
I chuckled. "Maybe. Twenty-five years has slowed us down a little. And brought
some wisdom with it."
"You're still crazy in love, though. That's all that matters." Angela crossed one
leg over the other and focused her attention on the monitors that surrounded
Bella's bed. "She'll be completely off of the pentobarbital by the end of the
night. There's a pretty good chance she can hear everything you're reading to
her right now."
I laid the book on the floor at my feet and grabbed Bella's hand in both of mine.
Some of the color had returned to her face, and I found myself wondering what
her eyes would look like after all this time. Would they still have the same
sparkle to them? Would they be darker, lighter, or the same chocolate shade of
brown? Would there be more lines around them, or would some of the stress be
gone from them? As I watched her chest rise and fall with assistance from the
ventilator, I couldn't help but wonder what, if any, differences there'd be when
my wife came back to me.
"I want to make it easier on her," I explained. "I've done so much research,
read so many articles on medically induced comas during the last month and a
half. Every patient comes out different, but confusion, disorientation, and
agitation seem to be common denominators among all cases. Perhaps I'm
foolish to think this way, but I hope that hearing our story—my name, the kids'
names, our parent's names—will take some of that confusion away. I don't want
her to be frightened, Angela. Seeing that will break my heart."
Dr. Weber reached out and squeezed my knee supportively. "Edward, we need
to talk about something. We can do it here, or we can do it in my office. It's up
to you, but I'm not sure it's something you would want Bella to hear."
I knew what was coming, but no matter how many times I'd tried to prepare
myself for this conversation, it did no good. My heartbeat sped up, my hands
started to tremble, and my mouth went dry. I squeezed Bella's hand once more
and stood, clearing the emotion from my throat. "Can we talk in the hallway?"
"Of course." Angela followed me out of the room, closing the door gently behind
her. I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes, completely unprepared for
what I was about to hear.
"Lay it on me, Ang. What is it?"
"This is never an easy conversation for a doctor to have, but it's even worse to
have it with you, Edward. Bella isn't just a colleague; she's a friend and a
confidant. I sincerely hope she opens her eyes, moves a muscle, or does
anything in the next few days. But as with any brain injury, there's always the
possibility that she won't.
"Bella was unconscious and unresponsive when the medics brought her in here,
Edward. She suffered a severe head trauma, as you know, and there was
already a fair amount of swelling by the time we brought her in for the first
scans and MRI. The electroencephalography shows brain activity, so please
don't interpret this as my telling you she's already gone, because I'm not. I just
want you to be ready to face the possibility that Bella might not wake up."
I couldn't look Angela in the eye. If I did, the calm façade I had so carefully
erected would tumble down around me, and I would be reduced to nothing more
than a blubbering mess on the floor. I had known all along that there was a
chance I'd lose Bella forever. Despite the outpouring of prayers, strength,
positive thoughts, and well wishes, she might not be strong enough to make it
through this and come out on the other side. The idea of living a life without her
was too painful to even consider, let alone accept.
"Will you have someone here with you the next few days?" Angela asked. I
continued to avoid her gaze, but nodded.
"Tanya was going to drive up. She might bring Riley and Kate with her."
"That's good." Angela stepped forward, laying her hand gently on my shoulder.
"I have hope, Edward; everyone in this hospital is rooting for Bella to pull
through. But if she doesn't … just know that there's plenty of us here to help get
you and the kids through."
"Thank you," I choked out. I composed myself and slipped back in my wife's
room. It was silly, but conscious or not I was convinced she could pick up on my
emotions, and I didn't want her to know the pain or stress that Angela's words
stirred up.
I took a seat beside her bed, picking up the journal once more and opening it to
the page I'd earmarked. One deep breath and a clearing of my throat later, I
was prepared to continue reading where I'd left off.
"Now, where were we? Ah, yes—California."
-Summer and fall, 1988-
When we first left Bruno, neither Bella nor I had any idea where we were
headed. I wanted to stop at home, grab my things and say goodbye to my
parents, but Bella was quick to point out that it would probably be the first place
Charlie went to look for us. So, after some discussion, we headed south to
Minneapolis, where a childhood friend of Bella's let us crash on her couch while
we made a plan.
After many talks and a few minor arguments, we decided to go west to
California. Bella's mom, Renee, lived in Long Beach with her new husband, and
was eager to offer us a place to stay while we got on our feet.
I had kept in contact with my parents who, though they didn't approve of what
Bella and I were doing, weren't angry enough to cut me off like Charlie had
done. That didn't mean they were happy with me, however, and when I told
Esme where we were headed, she said nothing and hung up.
We stayed with Maggie for a week, emptied the money from our savings
accounts, and then took off again, pointing my jeep in the direction of The
Golden State.
Our only extended stop along the way was in Las Vegas. We spent three days
there, and on the second we trekked to the Clark County courthouse, where we
applied for our marriage license. Twelve hours later we said, "I do," at which
time we promptly returned to our room to consummate our marriage. We took
cheesy photos in our wedding garb, which we would later send to our friends
back home, and finished the final leg of our journey.
Renee Dwyer was nothing like I pictured her. She was on the shorter side, like
Bella, with fiery red hair and eyes the color of the Pacific. She welcomed us to
her home with open arms, refusing to accept rent, grocery money, or anything
else. Her husband Phil managed professional sports players, so he spent a lot of
time on the road and not much back at home. After a while it became clear that
Renee was just happy to have other people in her home, and not so much by
the fact that one of those people was her daughter.
By the time the end of August rolled around, we'd settled in and become fairly
stable. Bella got a job working as a waitress at a local café and I had gotten
lured into selling insurance with one of Phil's business colleagues. We were
pocketing away money for school, and much to my surprise, it seemed like
things were going in the right direction.
Bella didn't get many weekends off, so when she told me she had a Saturday
night in September free I jumped at the chance to plan an evening out. I made
reservations at a fairly nice seafood place that sat on the beach and took my
wife on the town.
"What's the occasion?" Bella asked, taking in the spectacular view. The
restaurant's patio butted right up to the sand, and from where we were sitting
we could see the red and orange hues of yet another perfect sunset.
"There isn't one." I reached across the table and grabbed her hand, tracing the
lines on her palm with one of my fingers. She looked down at what I was doing,
the corners of her mouth turning up with a smile.
"No?"
I shook my head. "I just wanted to spend time with you. Our schedules are so
different now and your mom is always around. It feels like we never get a
chance to be alone anymore."
"I know." Bella curled her fingers back, trapping mine in her hand. "Maybe we
should look for our own place?"
The thought was tempting, but I also knew it wasn't feasible. "I'd love that, but
we have to save for school. That was one of the promises we made when we
decided to come here, remember? College was a must."
She tipped her head to the side, letting her eyes roam over me. "I know," she
sighed. "Some days it just seems like it might be easier if we did things
differently."
I wanted to tell her that I'd tried to point that out before we left Minnesota three
months earlier, but I knew that would start an argument, and I wasn't in the
mood for one.
"Let's not think about what's easy or hard right now. Let's enjoy this night
together, and be thankful we have the resources to do so." I reached across the
table and tucked my thumb beneath her chin, raising her head until her eyes
met mine. She cupped my wrist with her hand and smiled.
"Okay." We spent the rest of the night talking about everything; what we loved
and didn't love about California, how we missed our friends, and what we
wanted to do when we finally could afford our own place. Each time Bella smiled
I fell more and more in love with her, and by the time we got back to Renee's
place, I wanted nothing more than to strip her bare and show her.
"Is your mom home?" I asked, closing the bedroom door behind us and flipping
the lock up. Bella dropped her purse on the floor and shook her head.
"She's at some dinner party with Phil. They won't be back for a while."
We spent the rest of the night in bed, worshipping each other in ways that we
never had before. And, as my lips found purchase on her soft, sweaty skin, I
knew that there could never be anyplace else in the world that I'd rather be.
.
.
.
I was lounging on the couch after work one day, six weeks later, when I heard
Bella scream. I jumped to my feet immediately, racing to the basement
bedroom we shared.
I found her sitting on the edge of our bed, shoulders slumped and eyes fixed on
the floor. She didn't move when I inched across the room, or when I sat down
quietly beside her.
"Bells?" I reached out and tried to tuck her hair behind her ear, but she turned
her head away from me and sniffled. I wasn't sure what to do or if trying to
touch her anymore was a good idea, so I simply put my hands in my lap and
stared at the wall.
"What's wrong?"
She turned to face me then, and I could see her eye were red and puffy from
crying. "Everything."
"Everything? What do you mean?"
She held her hand out and dropped an object in my lap. I picked it up and spun
it around, and when I realized what it was a wave of fear swept over me.
"I'm pregnant."
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