Then There Was You: A Single Parent Collection

by Gianna Gabriela

  Something in me snaps, and I’m hurtled back into the here and now. Everything crashes back into focus all at once. My heart slams against my rib cage when I realize I’ve been standing here way too long while Gwen’s been in the car, maybe dying. That thought has my feet beating against the pavement as I run toward the truck.

  Ten feet away, a hysterical cry has me looking to the left. My dad has a distraught Kelsey in his arms. She’s screaming “Mama” over and over again as she struggles with everything she has, trying to break free and run back to the truck. Her arms are stretched out, her fingers opening and closing pathetically, as if trying to grab for her mom. I can see my dad is having a hard time keeping hold of her. If it wasn’t for the urgency of the situation, I’d be amazed at her strength.

  Looking back at Gwen’s ruined car and her brown hair, I take a chance and run the few feet to Kelsey and my dad. She needs to calm down before she hurts herself. I would never be able to live with myself if something happened to her.

  I come to a stop in front of them, but it’s as though Kelsey doesn’t even see me. Her eyes are frantic as she strains to look around me at the truck and screams for her mother. I grab her cheeks and step fully in front of her, blocking her view of the truck. The sight of her red and swollen eyes, tear-soaked cheeks, heaving chest, and trembling body has my throat clogging. I quickly take stock of the rest of her and am glad when I only see a small scratch on her cheek.

  Her eyes are on me now, but they stay unfocused, the pupils dilated, and I know she still doesn’t see me. Her struggles have slowed now that she’s not able to see the car, but haven’t died down completely. My dad is still bent with one arm wrapped tightly around her waist and one around her upper body.

  “Kelsey,” I call. When she still looks through me, I say her name more forcefully and shake her lightly, needing to get her attention quickly so I can get to Gwen. “Kelsey!” Her pupils finally shrink and her eyes focus on me. The plea in them reminds me of Clara’s when she begged me to save Rayne. I have to grit my teeth and force myself to not go back down that dark hole of remembrance.

  “I need you to calm down for me, okay? I’m going to go get your mom, but I need you to stay here with David. He’s my dad and will take care of you.” I stop, making sure she hears me, then ask, “Can you do that for me?”

  It only takes her a couple of seconds before she nods. “Okay,” she croaks.

  I lean forward and kiss her forehead, then pull back. My eyes briefly lift to my dad’s. He gives me a nod, and I know he’ll care for her. I look around quickly and am satisfied when I see a crying Daniel in my mom’s arms a few feet away.

  My stomach bottoms out as I turn back to the car.

  You can’t fucking have her, I demand silently to God. You’ve taken enough from me. I barely survived last time. I know I won’t be able to a second time. She’s mine, and I need her. I refuse to let you take her!

  When I skid to a stop at her side of the car, I still don’t see her face. It’s turned slightly to the side and her mane of thick hair falls down, hiding her from view. I can see her body though, as it hangs upside down from the still buckled seat belt. The steering wheel keeps her legs from hanging down, but her arms hang lifelessly, her hands resting against the roof.

  I drop to my knees, not only because I need to be on the ground to be able to get to her, but because my knees will no longer hold me up.

  “Gwen,” I whisper hoarsely. Not expecting an answer, I’m not surprised when I don’t get one. Tears blur my vision, but I blink them away. I can’t afford to lose it right now. That can come later.

  The door doesn’t budge when I try opening it. There’s glass on the pavement, but I don’t feel it as it cuts into my hands when I push my upper body through the window and gently push back her hair.

  My heart stops, and I break out into a cold sweat when I see the big gash on her head, starting at her hairline and stopping at the outside edge of her eyebrow. A steady drip of blood falls from the deep cut, and when I look down, I see the small pool of blood. Icy fear slithers deeper into my gut.

  I amend my earlier thought.

  Please don’t take her from me. Please, let her be okay. I can’t lose her too. Kelsey and Daniel can’t lose her. We all need her too damn much. She’s too important.

  I slide my fingers along her neck until I reach the spot where a pulse should be. At first I don’t feel it, and I die inside, but then a faint bump hits the tip of my fingers. Then another a second later. It’s weak. Too fucking weak, but it’s there, and it gives me hope. I just pray it’s not false hope.

  Needing to get her free of the seat belt, but not wanting to jar her too much for fear of doing more damage, I angle my body beneath hers and lie on my back so I’m looking up at her. Her hair drapes against my chest, just below my face, and the blood dripping from the cut starts soaking my shirt.

  “I’m going to get you out of here, baby,” I tell her silent form. “Just hold on for me, okay? The ambulance is almost here. I just need you to hold on.”

  I know she’s unconscious and probably doesn’t hear me, but it helps to talk to her. It makes the possibility of losing her seem less real. I can’t think of that right now, because I’ll freeze again. I wasn’t able to save Clara and Rayne. I’ll be damned if I won’t save Gwen.

  Spreading my fingers as far apart as I can, I place my palm against her chest and lift my body slightly. When I release the seat belt, with my hand on her chest and my body only about a foot away from hers, I slowly lower her to me. I move her legs so they fall from behind the steering wheel.

  Immediate relief hits me when I feel her warm body against mine, but it’s short lived, because I know she’s not out of danger. The gash on her forehead is deep and there’s a chance there could be internal bleeding in her brain. Not to mention there could damage to other parts of her body. From the brief glance I got when I first stuck my head in the cab, I didn’t see anything else wrong with her on the outside, but that doesn’t mean there couldn’t be something wrong on the inside.

  I push past the panic that thought tries to bring forward.

  I wrap one arm around her upper body and try to keep it as still as possible so I don’t jolt her as I start shifting both of us out of the window inch by inch.

  I have her out about halfway, when the space becomes too small. I’m about to call out to my dad when I feel hands on the arm I have wrapped around her. I lift my head and look out the window to see my dad down on his knees, ready to help.

  “Be careful. She’s got a big gash on her forehead and we don’t know what other injuries she has.”

  He nods and slips his arms beneath her shoulders while I lift her upper thighs as best as I can with my upper body still in the truck. Once her legs are out, I scoot as fast as I can until I’m out. My dad has her laid out on her back, and I crawl until I’m hovering over her. Her face is ghostly white and it scares the shit out of me. Although I just felt her pulse a moment ago, the need to feel it again has my fingers going back to her throat.

  Right as I feel the slight thump again, a voice comes from behind me.

  “Sir, we need you to step back.”

  A second later, a medical bag is set down beside me, then a paramedic gets down on his knees on her other side, while the other waits for me to get out of the way.

  I want to insist that I’m not going anywhere, that I can’t leave her side, but I know I have to move in order for them to do their work.

  I don’t stand, I just scoot back several feet and sit on my heels. My breath comes in pants as I watch helplessly while they take her vitals and slip on a neck brace. My body feels completely numb, all except for my heart. Each heavy beat sends a sharp pain through my chest. I ball my hands into fists so tight that my knuckles scream at me. Tears leak from my eyes, scalding my cheeks.

  I feel a hand on my shoulder and look up. My dad’s standing there watching them work on Gwen as well, a look of deep sadness marring his face. My eyes drift
past him to my mom, who has Daniel and Kelsey in her arms. Both are crying and have their eyes pinned on Gwen lying still on the pavement.

  Kelsey’s eyes leave her mom long enough to look at me, and I lift my arm toward her, indicating I want them to come to me. I need them in my arms right now, and I know they need me too. My mom sees my lifted arm and lets the kids go. Kelsey, with her brother’s hand in hers, runs them both over to me.

  I open my arms and they crash against my chest. I close my eyes and thank God they’re both okay, then beg God in the same breath that their mother will be as well. I open my eyes and see Gwen now on a spinal board.

  The kids cry against my shoulders, and I want to keep them against me until I know Gwen is okay, but they need to be checked out too.

  As if sensing my thoughts, another paramedic comes to kneel beside us, medical bag in hand. I release the kids and try to pull back, but they cling to me. I allow their arms to stay around me, but I lean my head back so I can look at them. Their lips tremble as their tear-filled eyes meet mine.

  My voice is scratchy when I tell them, “The paramedics need to check you both over, okay?” Fear enters their face, so I reassure them. “I’ll be right here with you.”

  “Is M-mama going to be o-okay?” Kelsey asks in a terrified voice.

  I have no fucking clue what to tell her because I don’t know the answer. I don’t want to lie to her, but I also don’t want to scare her any further than she already is. I look over and see the paramedics lifting Gwen onto the gurney.

  I look back to Kelsey, and I hope like fuck that I’m not lying to her when I say, “Your mom is going to be fine.”

  It takes her a minute, but she nods, taking my words for the truth I pray they are. She releases me and turns to the paramedic, and Daniel follows suit.

  As he looks the kids over, my eyes go back to Gwen, who still hasn’t woken up. It’s scares me shitless that she’s still unconscious. I need her to wake up and show me she’s going to be okay. I need to hear her beautiful voice and see her stunning blue eyes. I won’t be able to fully breathe again until I do. The only thing keeping me together at the moment is the two kids that need me to stay strong. Gwen would want me to be strong for them. If it weren’t for them, there’s no telling the state I’d be in.

  The paramedic deems the kids fine, just a few bumps and bruises, but still wants them to be checked out at the hospital. I’m torn when he asks me if I want to ride in the back of the ambulance with the kids, because I want to be with Gwen. The thought of having her out of my sight has panic trying to take over. What if she dies on the way to the hospital? What if we get there and the paramedic says she didn’t make it?

  I look to the kids’ scared and pain-filled faces and know I can’t leave them alone. I know my mom or dad would ride with them, but it’s me they want, and I can’t deny them. There’s nothing I can do for Gwen at the moment. She’s in the hands of the paramedics, and I have to trust them to keep her safe. The kids need me more than her right now.

  Gwen is loaded up and when the door’s closed and I can no longer see her, I swear my heart drops to my stomach. Vomit threatens.

  The ambulance speeds away with its siren blaring, and I pray once again that she’ll be okay.

  She has to be.

  As the kids and I are loaded into the back of the other ambulance, my dad promises that he and my mom will be right behind us. I nod as the doors close behind us, and seconds later we’re moving as well, at a slower speed. I grit my teeth to keep from demanding we go faster.

  The kids are sitting on the gurney, and I’ve got each of my hands holding one of theirs. I try to smile at them to keep up the façade of Gwen being okay. I don’t want them to see the worry and pain I’m currently feeling. They don’t need to know that I’m slowly dying inside, and I won’t be resurrected until I know Gwen will make it out of this alive.

  Until I get a chance to tell her what I haven’t told her yet. That I love her.

  21

  GWENDOLYN

  I WAKE TO THE MOST beautiful sound I’ve heard in years. It warms my belly and makes me want to smile. I want to open my eyes and look for the wonderful sound, but I’m scared if I do, it’ll only be a dream. It’s something I’ve wanted to hear for such a long time and feared would never happen. I don’t think I’ll survive it if it’s just a dream.

  Something warm and soft is pressed to my side, and I want to snuggle into it further. A sweet and innocent floral scent hits my nose, and I love the smell. I feel pressure on my hand, and it’s only then I realize there are small fingers laced with mine. I give a tiny squeeze, checking to see if it’s real or just my imagination.

  “Mama?” a soft voice says in my ear, and it’s that sound again that I love so much. The sweet way it said Mama has tears forming under my closed eyes.

  Unable to hold off any longer, I squint my eyes open, ready to slam them shut again and pray I can pull the dream back if what I hope is happening isn’t true. I feel the pull of a bandage and a slow throb on my forehead. Bright light blinds me and the throb becomes a piercing pain. Ignoring it, I try to focus. I need to know if it’s real. My vision is blurry, so I blink a few times.

  When the world comes into focus, I’m met with eyes so green and beautiful it takes my breath away.

  “Mama?” the voice says again.

  My heart hurts so much at hearing this particular voice call me mama. But it’s a beautiful kind of pain. It’s a pain I’ll not only endure, I’ll beg to feel it every single day for the rest of my life.

  Tears start leaking down my cheeks, and I let them, because there’s no way I could force them back.

  “Hey, baby,” I croak, and lift my hand to lay it on my baby girl’s cheek.

  Her eyes turn glassy, and I know she’s going to cry too. Seconds later, the first tear falls and her lips start to tremble. Her eyes flicker back and forth between mine, as if searching for something. She has a small bandage on her right cheek. Before I get a chance to worry that she’s hurt, she launches herself at me and wraps her arms tightly around my neck. Mine go around her small waist, and I hold on for dear life. My body aches where she’s lying on me, but I don’t care. I’ve got my girl in my arms and she said mama.

  “I was so scared you died,” Kelsey cries against my neck. Her small body shakes in my arms

  Tears track down my cheeks in rivers as I run my hand through her hair and down her back. As much as I hate knowing she was worried, I can’t help but be grateful that it’s caused her to start speaking.

  “Shh,” I murmur against her hair. “I’m okay.”

  She clings to me so tightly that it makes it hard to breathe, but she could cut off all the blood to my head and I wouldn’t care, as long as I have her in my arms and talking.

  Something catches my attention, and I look to the right. My eyes land on Alexander with Daniel on his lap. There’s a small bandage on my son’s chin and my heart hurts knowing he was hurt. I run my eyes over the rest of him, feeling relief when I don’t see any other injuries.

  Daniel looks at me with wide green eyes, so much like Will’s. There’s fear in them and it breaks my heart to know he was scared as well. They’ve both lost so much already.

  The IV line in my hand pulls when I lift my arm toward him. “Come here, sweetie,” I croak out.

  He scrambles off Alexander’s lap and attempts to climb onto my bed. Alexander gets up, and before helping him the rest of the way, he grabs a cup on the bedside table and lets me take several swallows. The blessedly cool water feels like heaven against my dry throat. I notice him pushing the call button on the side of the bed before he lifts the line to my IV, then lifts Daniel onto the bed. As soon as his knees hit the mattress he buries his face against my shoulder and starts crying just as hard as his sister. My free arm closes tightly around him, and I close my eyes and kiss the tops of my babies’ heads.

  When I open them again, my eyes go to Alexander, who’s back to sitting on the edge of his chair, his
hands gripping the arms so tight his knuckles are white. A whole slew of emotions crosses his face and it makes my chest ache when I realize he was worried as well.

  I can’t imagine the pain he went through and what was going through his head when he found out about the wreck. He’s already lost his wife and baby in a car accident. I know he cares for me deeply, that’s apparent at the pain in his eyes now, so to know he could have lost even more people to the same fate had to have been torture for him. I hate that he went through that.

  I hold his gaze and hope he sees the silent words coming from me. The words I have yet to tell him, but desperately want to. I love this man more than I thought was possible, and I need him to know that.

  A moment later, a doctor walks into the room carrying a chart. I hate it when the kids are forced to get down so the doctor can check me over. I’m impatient as he asks me questions and explains the extend of my injuries, but am glad when he says I can go home tomorrow, as long as there are no complications throughout the rest of the day and night.

  As soon as he’s gone, the kids are back on the bed with me. My eyes stay connected with Alexander while they cry into my shoulder. After a few minutes, their cries turn to sniffles. I break my stare with Alexander and pull both kids back so I can get a better look at them. I notice the bandage on Kelsey’s cheek again and the one on Daniel’s chin. More tears come to my eyes and my chest burns. It’s apparent they aren’t serious injuries, but they should never feel even the smallest of scratches.

  “Are you both okay?” I ask them, needing them to say they’re fine.

  Daniel nods, and I turn to look at Kelsey. “We’re okay, Mama. We’re just glad you’re okay too.”

  I close my eyes and relish in the sound of her voice. It’s going to take a long time to get used to hearing it again, but I’ll soak up every second and never take it for granted.

  “I love you both.”