by S. P. West
“Yes.” Marylyn answers softly, big fat tears rolling down her cheeks. The Doctor takes a seat and twists his body so that he is facing her. He takes one of the tissues from the box on the table in front of us, handing it to Marylyn.
“My name is Doctor Milne; I’m the surgeon who’s just operated on your son.” He gives her a small smile, “Alex’s surgery has been a success. We think we’ve managed to repair all the damage.” Marylyn lets out the breath that she was holding. “However,” he continues, “we have placed him in a medically induced coma so that his body has a chance to try to heal. Now, I would hope that he will, in time, make a fully recovery. He is a fit and strong young man but there are no guarantees. At the moment we have no way of knowing whether or not there will be any complications relating to your son’s injuries. We will be able to make a better assessment when he has regained consciousness.”
Marylyn surprises both the good doctor and me as she hurls herself into his arms, “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
“He’s not out of the woods yet, Mrs. Thorson.” Doctor Milne gently extricates himself from her hold and stands. “They are moving Alex to the Intensive Care Unit as we speak. You should be able to visit him soon, only for a few minutes though.”
“Thank you doctor,” she whispers as he heads to the door.
He turns and smiles at her, “your son is very lucky to be alive. Very lucky indeed.” With that he steps back into the corridor.
My heart thunders in my chest, tears of relief flow down my cheeks leaving damp marks on Marylyn’s elegant, light blue cardigan. We cling to each other and I relish the comfort that comes from the woman who’d always treated me like the daughter she never had. Even after my divorce, Marylyn kept in contact, still treating me as though I was still part of her family even though her son no longer gave a fuck. She kept trying to tell me that Alex had changed. That he was more like his old self; that he was once again the man I had fallen in love with all those years ago.
I send up a silent thank you to all the known gods for letting Alex, Lyssa and the baby make it this far and ask them to look after Becks.
I figured something today. It hit me as I spent endless hours looking at the same spot on the beige colored walls, trying to get my thoughts in order as we waited for news. I finally realized that I no longer felt anger towards Alex for what he did. Maybe I’ve even forgiven him, just a little bit. It doesn’t mean that we will ever be together again. I don’t think that I would be able to trust him, besides, I’ve changed, he’s changed. We’re different people now; we’ve lead very different lives. I have to protect my heart; I don’t want it to be broken again.
For all my relief and joy over Alex’s survival, everything is tinged with sadness. Alex has survived, Becks has not. The world has lost a good man; Lyssa has lost her soul mate, we have lost a good friend and that tiny little boy fighting for his life, will never know the love of his father. I just know that Beck’s would have been the best.
“Would you like to come with me?” Marylyn asks softly.
Her question takes me by surprise - I’d let my mind wander and hadn’t been listening to anything that was happening around me.
“Come with you?”
“To see Alex with me.”
What do I say to that? Should I see him? Would he even want me to be there? We are strangers to each other now. A selfish part of me thinks how awkward it’ll be, having not seen Alex for years, how awful our last meeting was and then going to see him while he lies in a coma. “Oh Marylyn… I…”
“He would appreciate you coming to see him,” she cuts in before I can turn her down flat. Marylyn looks me straight in the eye, placing her hand on top of mine, “he always regretted what he did to you honey. He often told me how he wished he could turn back time, so that he could still have you in his life. Losing you is his biggest regret. I understand if you don’t want to see him, I know that it would mean the world to him if you did. Besides,” I detect the slight pleading note in her tone, “I could do with somebody to hold my hand.”
Why would Marylyn say that? Why would she say that Alex regretted losing me? It must have been a slip of the tongue; the stress of everything causing her to say something that simply isn’t true. I suspect that there’s also a tiny element of emotional blackmail going on. I don’t blame her for it but I’d rather stay here; waiting for news on Alyssa and the baby. And yet, I don’t want to abandon Marylyn. She’s here all alone, if I weren’t with her, she would have no one else to lean on for support.
“Of course.” I hear myself say.
Nothing prepares you for seeing someone you once loved lying motionless and almost unrecognizable in a hospital bed. Alex is surrounded by wires and has tubes sticking out of all sorts of places. The only sounds that can be heard are the soft whirring and occasional beeps of machines that help keep him alive. Two comfy-looking green chairs are placed on either side of his bed. Marylyn sits in one gently stroking Alex’s hand while speaking to him quietly; I sit opposite her holding his other hand. His handsome face now wields a vivid red slash from his temple to his jaw, stitched together in a zig-zag pattern. His hair has been shaved clean off; his eyes and cheeks are swollen; nasty purple bruises have formed on all the body parts that I can see.
The man lying here doesn’t look like Alex.
The nurse that brought us here said that once the swelling had gone down then everything should return to normal. Everything except the scar – that would remain as a permanent reminder of this terrible accident.
We’d been allowed to stay longer than they normally would allow. Both the doctor and the nurses thought that having people he knew with him, talking to him would help. They said that he might be able to hear us. I’ve sat quietly listening to Marylyn speak with her son, not knowing what to say to him. What do you say to your ex-husband who left you for another woman? Speaking of the devil, shouldn’t she be here with Alex? It’s her place to be here, not mine.
I do still care for the man lying deathly still beside me, part of me always will – it’s only natural. I loved him once even if he never loved me, and as much as I dreamt of cutting his balls off and feeding them to sharks, I would never have wished this on him.
So why I am here?
As much as I want to support Marylyn and be here for her, I don’t exactly want to find myself face to face with the bitch my husband left me for. Actually, when I think about it, in all my conversations with the lovely woman opposite me over the years, not once has she ever mentioned Alex’s girlfriend.
“Where’s Rachel, Marylyn? Shouldn’t she be here?”
Marylyn stops her one-sided conversation with Alex mid-sentence, and looks at me curiously; her brows furrowed. “Why on earth would she be here sweet girl?”
“I thought… I thought… aren’t Alex and her together? I mean, I know he told me that they’d split up but he was drunk at the time.” I answer, remembering that night years ago at my leaving party. I honestly thought after I’d rejected him that he’d run straight back to her. After all, she was important enough to Alex that he would break up our happy marriage for her.
“They haven’t been ‘together’ since before you left after the divorce, honey. In fact, I don’t think that Alex has spoken to her in all that time either, nor does he want to.” She speaks in hushed tones yet there is no mistaking the hardness in her voice.
“What happened?” The question slips out of my mouth before I can stop it; morbid curiosity breaking down the ‘I don’t give a shit’ shield that I’ve erected around myself over the past few years.
“Oh, I won’t bore you with the nitty gritty details sweet thing. It’s Alex who needs to tell you not me.”
“Bullshit! Alex is in a coma Marylyn, you are here.” I don’t mean to snap at her but the high emotions of today, exhaustion and annoyance at being kept in a protective bubble get the better of me. “If you’re not telling me because you think I need protection… well I don’t. I haven’t needed so
meone to hold my hand in a very long time. I have your son to thank for that. The least you can do is to stop thinking you’re helping me by sheltering me from whatever it is you think I need protecting from. I’m not the naive teenager that you once knew Marylyn, I’m a big girl now. So will you please just bloody well tell me!”
“Like I said, Alex needs to tell you.” I see the sheen of fresh tears form in her eyes. The anger I felt seeps away and I’m left feeling guilty for being rude to this beautiful woman who has shown me nothing but kindness and love.
“But…”
“The nurse said that if you talk to someone in a coma they should be able to hear you.” She says a little too brightly, ignoring me. “I need to get a drink from all the talking I’ve been doing; maybe you talk to him while I’m away?” With that, she gets up and heads out of the room leaving me alone for the first time in years with the man who broke my heart, before I tell her sorry.
I sit stunned for a moment. I’m horrified at the way I’ve spoken to Marylyn and try to think of a way to apologize for my outburst. I’d selfishly forgotten that Marylyn had been deeply traumatized today; she’d almost lost her only child. Yet, here I am lashing out at her in my grief forgetting that she is grieving too.
Maybe talking to Alex will help, put my thoughts in order and find the words to say to make it right with Marylyn again. I look at my ex-husband, his chest moving up and down while the machine helps him to breathe. Taking his hand in mine once again, gently squeezing it more for my comfort than his.
“Hi Alex, it’s Summer.” Despite feeling odd about having a one-sided conversation with my comatose ex, I take a deep breath and carry on regardless. “I’m not sure if you can hear me…the, uh, nurses said that you may be able to. I know that I’m probably the last person that you’d want to talk to…” Oh god, I’m rambling like an idiot just like I did the first time Alex spoke to me. “Anyway your Mum has gone to get a drink, so you’ve got me for the time being I’m afraid. I’m not quite sure what to say to you now. A few years ago this would have been easier...” I let out a sad little laugh, “I’m not sure I’ve quite forgiven you, Alex. I sometimes think I have, then something happens and… anyway I want you to know that I’ve moved on with my life. I’ve had lots of hot sex with hundreds of men all with bigger dicks than you and way better in bed. How do you like them apples, huh?” I slap my hand over my mouth as I realize what I’ve said. It just slipped out. I didn’t mean that, I really didn’t. I wish I could take the words back. What kind of person says that to someone lying in a coma?
Well me, obviously.
Why did I say that? It was one of those stupid things that I swore that I would say to him if I ever saw him again. I’d wanted to look on with smug disdain as I crooked my little finger in his face, showing him what I thought of his penis size. I’d fantasied about it, I never dreamed I’d actually say it. Not while he was lying helpless in a coma. What kind of heartless bitch does that make me? A tired, overly emotional heartless bitch who is sitting talking to the comatose ex-husband, who cheated on her and took his mistress on holiday, because she doesn’t want to upset his mum - that’s who.
“Sorry, that was… not very nice of me Alex. Whether you can hear me or not and as much as you hurt me that was uncalled for. I really should engage my mouth filter. I’d always imagined saying it to you when you were conscious and not fighting for your life. I’m such a… cow.” He doesn’t stir at all at my words; the machines continue to whir and beep. I figured that I nothing left to lose and as it doesn’t look like Marylyn will be back any time soon, I continue talking. “The truth… the truth is that I haven’t had sex with hundreds of men. I’ve had a few boyfriends but it’s hard to trust people, you know? Well no, you wouldn’t.”
I hesitate for a moment, wondering whether to just unload everything in one cathartic release. As my mum is always so great at reminding me - honesty is the best policy. “Truth is I’m happy. I’ve got to a good place in my life. Violet and I have a nice little business going, you remember Vi, don’t you? I think the last thing she called you was an almighty cockwomble, that must be pretty hard to forget. Anyway, we’re doing really well. I’m living back in Brighton; we have a little shop down The Lanes. We’ve gone international too!” My pride is obvious in my voice; even I can hear it. “My love life on the other hand… actually it feels a bit odd talking to you about my love life. I’m not involved with anyone at the moment but you don’t need to know about that.”
And so I go on, having the best conversation with my ex that I’ve had in years.
I tell him every single thing that I can think of my life; my hopes, my fears; how angry I was at him. How angry I still am. I even, through tears, tell him about the baby. Finding it easier, somehow, to tell him that he had been a father for a few short weeks as he lay unconscious.
“I don’t regret not telling you, Alex. Obviously, I would have told you if I hadn’t lost the baby... you could have been involved if you wanted. I promise I wouldn’t have stopped you; we were in a bad place then. It was probably for the best. Still hurts like hell though. I don’t think that it will ever stop. I sometimes wonder what he would have looked like…” I try to blink back the tears that form, “I know he would have been blond and yeah, I’m pretty convinced he was a he…” With a light tap to let me know she was there, Marylyn pops her head around the door.
“Everything okay? How’s he doing?” Her weary face bears no bitterness from our previous words.
“We’ve been having a good old chat,” I joke as I wipe away the tears with the back of my hand. “Nothing has really changed though.”
Marylyn walks over, placing her hand on my shoulder. Grateful at this olive branch, I reach up and take her hand in mine.
“I’m sorry for what I said,” I whisper as she squeezes my fingers.
“Oh hush now, no offence taken, I’m just lucky that you’re here with me. He’d be so happy to know that you’re here. Despite what you might think,” she says giving me a pointed look. “I’m just so grateful that he’s alive.” She sniffs dabbing away the wetness on her cheek with her free hand, “I checked in on William’s parents while you’ve been with Alex. They’re sitting with the baby, they’ve not left that beautiful boy’s side. He’s a fighter.” Marylyn’s smile is sad as she refers to Becks by his real name.
“How are they all?”
“Broken, honey. Just broken. Trying to be strong for the little one. I hope and pray that that baby pulls through. For their sake as much as his.”
“Becks was their only child wasn’t he?”
She nods her head, her eyes full of sorrow.
“I’ve known William from boy to man. I’ve patched him up when he and Alex got into scrapes, fed him, watched him run around my house at 100 miles an hour. I’ve seen him fall in and out of love, until he finally found Alyssa and I was looking forward to seeing him become a father, because I know that he would have been the very best.” Marylyn’s voice wavers as she tries to hold back the tears, “he is--was-- like a son to me. I can’t be feeling a tenth of what Marsha and Alan are feeling right now. To lose your only child like that…” She stares down at Alex, “My boy is strong, he’ll find his way back to us.”
You, I want to say, he’ll find his way back to you.
I’m not part of his life anymore.
“I can’t lose them both,” she says squeezing my fingers once more. We watch him in contemplative silence for a few moments before Marylyn speaks again. “We’ll have to go soon. We’ve already been here a lot longer than we were supposed to be.”
“You’ve hardly spent any time with Alex,” I start to protest as I twist in my seat to look directly at her, “I’ve taken up all of your time with him.”
“Don’t worry about it honey. They said I could come back later. You can too, if you like?” Her eyes are so full of hope, that I that I can’t say no so I find myself nodding my head in agreement. Silently telling myself that I’ll visit him until he�
�s out of the coma, I doubt he’d want to see me when he wakes up.
“I best go find Vi anyway, see if there’s any news on Lyssa.” I say as I push myself off the chair, turning to face her. Marylyn reaches up resting her hand on my face, concern written in her expression.
“Why don’t you go get some rest, drop by later? You must be exhausted from all that travelling.”
“Something may happen. I want to be here.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you will be no good to anyone if you collapse from exhaustion. Now, have you booked into a hotel yet?”
“No, we’re…” She starts shaking her head as she rummages in her purse, pulling out a set of house keys and some cash, pressing it all into my hand. “Call a cab. Go sleep at mine tonight. I’m closer to the hospital, I’ll book you into a hotel if you want or you can both stay with me. I have plenty of room.”
“We’re staying with Del” I start to argue.
“No quarrelling with me now. Del and Dana live miles away. I’m closer. Here’s my address, help yourself to anything – food, a bath, watch T.V.… now go find your friend and take her with you. I’ll see you later.” And with that I’m rather unceremoniously shoved through the hospital room’s door.
ALEX
WHERE THE HELL am I?
I know I’m lying in a bed somewhere. I know this because I tried to open my eyes a few minutes ago and could just about figure out that I’m lying on my back. It was kind of hard as everything was blurred, I couldn’t move my head and it was really, really fucking bright.
I honestly thought I’d gotten shitfaced and woken up in Vegas.
Why does it hurt so much?
I have vague memories of crunching metal, voices, noises then nothing.
A familiar voice beside me says my name so loudly that it’s like a bomb has gone off in my head. Another voice joins in, a strange one this time and I’m nearly blinded by the light again as I briefly force my eyes open again.
