My mother is at my side, and her arms wrap around me as I start to cry. This isn’t what I want. I don’t want this. I don’t want to watch the love of my life break down. I sob into Mom’s arms, letting all the pieces within me fall. I am broken without her. I am broken when I see her this way. I put that pain in her expression and those tears in her eyes. And I need to be the one to take them away.
“It’s okay, baby boy,” Mom says soothingly, but I can’t believe her, not this time.
“It’s not okay! This is not okay! How could you leave us? How could you leave us with him? Did you have a choice, too? Because if you did, let me tell you, you fucking made the wrong one!” I cry even harder. “None of this is okay! It wasn’t okay six years ago when you left me—when you left all of us—and it’s not okay right now for you to tell me I have to choose. I don’t want to choose! This is not the choice I want to make! The choices I want are the ones between Baked Alaska and Cherry Garcia, or between lying in bed with my girl all day or showing her off to the world. I don’t want to choose between life and death. I don’t want to choose between you and them. I don’t want to choose between my mother and the mother of my child! I don’t want this! Take it away! All of it!”
My head is buried in my hands, and I’m pulling at my hair in agonized frustration as I let loose all the pain that has plagued me from the day my mother silently passed in her sleep. Every beating, every harsh word from my father’s mouth, every time my siblings and I were left out in the cold, walking to a safe place to sleep for the night, all of it comes rushing back, hitting me at full force. I feel every blow a thousand times, over and over and over again, but this time, I have my mother by my side to help me through it.
“Baby boy, look at me,” Mom whispers. I raise my head marginally and meet her gaze. “If I had a choice, I never would have left you. I fought every second of every day to stay with you, with all of you. I fought until my dying breath for just one more day, one more hour, one more minute with the people I loved. And if I had a choice, I never would have chosen to leave you, to put you in the position where you have to choose like this.”
I nod, knowing she means what she says. But that doesn’t change the fact that I have to choose.
I lift my head when I hear Sabrina move. She’s unwrapping the cords of her earbuds from around her iPod, and she’s turning to a song. I watch as she places one earbud, and then the other, into my ears.
She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes.
“I need you, Brody. I need you to open those beautiful sometimes-gray, sometimes-blue, always heart-stopping eyes of yours,” she whispers. “Wake up. Don’t leave me here alone. Don’t go where I can’t follow.” She stifles a sob. “Please.”
She hits ‘play’ on her iPod, and the saddest song I’ve ever heard echoes throughout the whole room. My mother extends her hands for me, and she helps me to my feet. I lean against her for support, because I have no strength at all to stand. She guides me out of the room, away from Sabrina and our unborn child, and into the waiting room.
In the waiting room, I am assaulted with the overwhelming feeling of grief, sadness, and heartache. But there’s an emotion I feel even stronger than all others.
Love.
Nickayla and Colin are wrapped in each other. He whispers in her ear and presses kisses into her hair while she cries. Mama Quinn and Ana are speaking to a nurse, while Jude and Gabriel are consoling their daughters. My baseball buddies look out of place, but they are here nonetheless. Even Kyle has shown up, which says so much. We were friends for years before he hurt Nickayla, and the fact that he’s here now—considering the last time I saw him, I kicked his ass—is a huge step in the right direction. My grandparents, who I haven’t seen in years, embrace each other and stare at my siblings like they’ve just seen a ghost. Dalis has curled in on herself, and is wrapped up in Bianca’s embrace. Cason is in a corner alone, but I see him crumbling from head to toe. I recognize the symptoms, and I hate that I can’t be there to console him physically.
I feel her presence beside me, and realize Sabrina has emerged. She makes a beeline for Dalis, taking her hand. When my sister comes to her, Sabrina’s arm wraps around her shoulders. Together, they walk over to Cason, and they pull him out of his corner haven and wrap him in an embrace.
She guides them to my room, and I don’t see what happens once they’ve entered and closed the door, because I turn to face my mother, who is regarding me pensively.
“You’re going to go back, aren’t you?” she asks.
I don’t want to hurt her. But I don’t want to lie to her either.
The minute Sabrina said that she was pregnant, my mind was made up. But after this…after seeing all the people I care about or have cared about in the past, surrounding me with love and hope…I know for a fact that I can’t leave this world behind.
I wrap my arms around my mom and I hold her as close as I can for as long as I can.
“I’m sorry, Mom. I miss you so much. I miss you every second of every day,” I say, choking back my emotions. “But Dalis…Cason…my friends…my family…I can’t leave them. And Sabrina and our baby…” I catch my breath. “I don’t want them to miss me like I miss you. I don’t want them to visit me at some hole in the ground. I want to be there. I want to be there always. I’m so sorry.”
Placing her hands on either side of my face, she gives me a brilliant, beautiful smile.
“Oh, baby boy, don’t be sorry. It’s not your time. I always knew you would make this choice, Brody. And I’m glad you did. Go on. Go be with your family.”
I hug her tightly, knowing that within a few moments, all of this, all we’ve said and done and shared with each other will be gone. I will be back in the land of the living, and my mother will continue to go on. And I will still have this empty hole inside me that only she can fill. It’s painful, letting her go, knowing I have to lose her for the second time. It’s even more painful knowing that I have to let her go because this is the choice I’ve made.
“I love you so much, Mom.”
“I love you, too, Brody. Always.”
Hand in hand, she leads me back to my room, where Cason is standing by himself. He’s standing over my body, with the black velvet box in his hands, and he looks stiff as ever. He shakes his head roughly, then pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes. I move to stand next to him, and when I look for Mom, she is gone, just like that.
I try to ignore the dull ache in my heart when I feel her absence for the second time.
I don’t know if my brother is going to speak. I don’t know if he has anything to say to me, and I honestly don’t expect him to. He’s the silent one, the one who keeps to himself. Having a conversation with him is like pulling teeth ninety nine percent of the time.
He takes a deep breath, and I stand over my body, across from him so I can look at him head on.
“You’re stupid, you know,” Cason says. “You always had to be the hero. You think we didn’t know what you did for us, but we always knew. You took all this pain over the years to spare us from it. You bore it all for us. And why? What for? Do you think you’re Superman? Do you think you’re invincible? You’re not! And I miss you! Dalis misses you! Sabrina misses you! All those people in the waiting room, they will miss you when you go! So don’t. Please.” He pinches the bridge of his nose again. “I’m quiet, I know. And I’m a piece of shit sometimes. That’s the Andrew in me. That’s me wishing I could be more like you. Honest and selfless and brave. But I’m not. There’s only one of you Brody. No one can replace you, not even me. You spent the past six years relinquishing your happiness for Dalis and me. You spent all these years giving up everything for us. You can’t give up now, not when you’ve finally found your little piece of happiness.” He plucks Mom’s engagement ring out of the velvet box and holds it in the palm of his hand. “You went in there, without weapons, completely defenseless, because you wanted this. Because you wanted to ask her to marry you, and beca
use you wanted to use this ring to do it. You took the beating of a lifetime to get your hands on this. You were living on a prayer when they brought you in here, beaten within an inch of your life, because of this ring. Don’t let that be for nothing. Wake the fuck up. Open your eyes, and take her hand and put this mother fucking ring on her finger or so help me God I will never forgive you.”
He grabs my hand, pulls my fingers so they are outstretched, and he places the ring in the center of my palm. He squeezes my hand for a nanosecond, and then he closes my fingers around it, one by one.
And then he walks away.
THIRTY TWO
I’LL NEVER UNDERSTAND WHY, when you’re in the hospital, people insist that you rest. It’s not like rest is even possible when you’re in the hospital. I’ve been in for almost two days and I haven’t slept more than five hours cumulatively since I opened my eyes. They keep barging in my room to check my vital signs and make me piss in a cup, and I just wish they’d let me be so I can get a full night’s sleep. Apparently, that’s too much to ask.
I’ve been told that my injuries look a lot worse than they actually are. I’ve had stitches in the back of my head, and my ribs are bandaged up after a couple fractures. The rest is just horrible bruising and swelling. I wonder if they look worse than they feel, because even with the pain meds they’ve got me on, they feel pretty fucking bad.
I’ve been in and out of consciousness since they started weaning me off my morphine drip, and the one thing that stays the same every time I do wake up is that Sabrina Matteo hasn’t left my side.
She’s asleep in the chair beside my bed, her hand holding mine and her dark hair splayed wildly across the armrest. Her knees are pulled up and bent in an awkward angle, and the hand that isn’t holding mine is resting against her abdomen. She looks peaceful, but I can see the exhaustion written across her face. The space beneath her eyes is darkened, her eyebrows are furrowed tightly together, and her lips are spread in a round ‘o’.
She looks the same, but she also looks different. She hasn’t left this hospital since I was admitted, apparently, because she hasn’t changed out of that dress.
All the other times I’ve woken up have been for a few minutes at most, but never for a substantial amount of time. When I saw her sleeping, I couldn’t stand the thought of waking her up, ever. She should be resting, because I’m sure she’s been worried sick about me. And when she’s worried, she doesn’t sleep.
I want to sit up, pull her out of that uncomfortable chair, and wrap her in my arms. I want to hold on to her because she doesn’t even know yet that she’s the only reason that I’m not dead. I press the button to move the top part of my bed upright, and I do it slowly so that I don’t wake her, but she stirs anyway and her head snaps up as she squeezes my hand.
I can’t even muster up enough strength to speak to her because I’m struck by how beautiful she looks even though there is worry all around her expression.
“You’re awake,” she says, then claps a hand over her mouth as she starts to sob. She lowers her head like she’s embarrassed, like I’ve never seen her cry before, and she makes a move to get up and leave the room, but I grab her hand. She gazes at me, and her brown eyes fill with tears all over again. “I’m so happy you’re awake. I’ve been so worried.”
I’m still so flustered that I can’t speak, so I release her hand and pat the empty space on the mattress beside me, and she looks at it skeptically. Finally, she gets up, and she walks over to my bed with caution, sitting next to me on the bed and extending her legs in front of her. I wrap my left arm around her shoulders and she leans in against my arm, sobbing silently against me. Her entire body is shaking from the extent of her cries, but she doesn’t hold anything back.
I can tell that all that we’ve been through has been wearing on her, and I can read all that in the desperate, choking way that she bawls, no-holds-barred and gasps for air. I need to say something, I know I do, and I don’t even know where to begin.
I take a deep breath and press a soft kiss to her temple, closing my eyes as I clear my throat. Her head snaps up and she stares at me with scores of questions in her eyes, and I shake my head, trying to let her know not to speak, not yet.
I take my right hand and use the pads of my thumbs to wipe her tears.
“I…it still hurts…to…speak,” I choke out, my voice quivering from all the strength it takes to voice what I’m feeling and the weight of my emotions. “The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King.”
As first words go, I know these aren’t the ones she was expecting.
I don’t remember anything from the time I lost consciousness to now, except six words. They came from Sabrina’s mouth, I know it, because I would know her voice anywhere. I give her a small smile, and she stares at me like I’m crazy.
“What…w-what the Hell are you talking about?” she asks, incredulously.
“Wake up. Don’t leave me here alone. Don’t go where I can’t follow.” I watch her steadily for a reaction. “Thats…what you said. It’s from The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King. You can’t stump me.”
She continues to sob, but she’s half-sobbing, half-laughing this time. After a few moments, though, she stops abruptly. “What else did you hear?”
I try and fail to raise an eyebrow, and she shakes her head. We’re both silent for a long time, and she stares down at me in sympathy. That’s the one thing I love most about her. She wears every single emotion on her face.
“Are you in pain?”
I sigh. “I’ve been told it looks worse than it actually is, but I wouldn’t know if that’s true. They haven’t given me access to a mirror.” I try to lighten up the mood. “You’d never lie to me, so tell me. Have I ruined my chances at being a Calvin Klein model?”
She laughs, swiftly wiping tears from her eyes. “You’ll always be incredibly handsome to me, Brody.” She smiles softly. “And sexy.”
I wink at her. “And great in bed.”
“Oh, yeah, we can’t forget that.”
She rests her head against me, and we spend the next few moments in silence. That is, until she starts to cry. Again.
I hate this.
I hate knowing how hurt she is because of me. She’s shaking against me, and I want nothing more than to erase her pain, but I know I can’t. There’s nothing I can do to take away what I’ve done to hurt her, whether intentional or unintentional.
“I don’t understand, Brody,” she whimpers. “I’ll never understand. Why did you go back there? I thought…I thought you were happy with me. I thought you were happy with us. I thought everything was okay. Why would you go back in there? What could possibly be that important?”
I wrack my brain, trying to find the answer. I don’t remember why I went in there, why I didn’t tell her where I was. There’s no excuse for causing her unnecessary pain and worry. So once I figure out what I went in there for, I hope it’s a damn good reason for hurting her like this.
I lift my right hand to try and soothe her, and I am stunned to find that my hand is not empty. There’s something in my hand. There’s something in my hand!
I open it, staring down at my mother’s engagement ring and it all comes rushing back to me. That’s what I went in there for. I wanted this ring because Sabrina is the only girl worthy of wearing it on her finger. I remember standing over my body, watching as Cason placed it in my hand after verbally handing my ass to me. I smile down at the small, platinum ring in my hand and look up at her.
“I went in for this, Sabrina,” I whisper, holding it out for her to see.
Her eyes widen when she registers the item in my hand, and she shakes her head frantically, like she can’t understand.
“I know it was stupid. And it was reckless. I went in there with two kids who can barely defend themselves, let alone me. I went in there without any weapon to protect myself against him. I know I’m not invincible, but I had to get my hands on this ring.” She continues to shake her head and
I smile at her tentatively. “Do you want to know the last thing that went through my head before I lost consciousness?” A beat. “You.” I run my hand down her head and through her hair, and my breath catches as her lower lip quivers and she chokes back a sob. “I’ve lived my entire life putting everyone else first, and myself last. Michele and I didn’t work out because she wanted things I couldn’t give her—because she wanted to be first, and I couldn’t promise her that. But you just threw yourself into my life the minute you threw that Goddamn water in my face, and I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since. With you, you never asked me to put you first. Instead, you helped me with Cason and Dalis, and you made them your first priority too. You took away the option of pushing you to the side because from the moment you offered to let us stay with you, I couldn’t help but love you.” I take her hands and place them on my chest, and I look deep into her eyes. “Do you feel that? My heart races every time I see you, every time you say my name, every time I touch you. I decided, when I was lying on the floor, that if I made it out of there alive, I would tell you how I felt about you. I’ve spent too much time putting everyone else’s needs before my own. I decided that I want to be selfish, and I don’t give a fuck what happens. I need you, Dove. And I love you. I always will. Will you marry me?”
She inhales and exhales deeply about three times before she speaks.
“Brody,” she says, whimpering, “I’m pregnant.”
…
AS REACTIONS GO, HIS IS PRETTY SOLID.
I’m crying inconsolably as he holds the most stunning engagement ring I’ve ever seen in the palm of his hand, and he’s staring at me with his jaw damn near on the floor.
Unbroken Page 27
