My Forever

by J. L. Perry

  God, how I’ve missed her, missed us.

  From the moment I saw her lying unconscious in the bed, I’ve been dying to hold her. There were so many times over the last eleven days that I worried I would never get to do this again. Just being with her like this makes everything seem right.

  Of course my body betrays me like it always does when I am with Brooke, and I am hard as a rock. She puts her right hand down and strokes me. I quickly step back and look down at her. She looks up at me with a smile on her face.

  “I am sorry, baby,” I say with a sigh. “You just turn me on so much and it seems like forever since I’ve held you like this.” After everything she has been through, this is the last thing she needs.

  Having that connection with her again is something I want more than anything, but it will have to wait until she is fully recovered. There is no way I am going to jeopardise her health right now.

  Brooke continues to stroke me through my jeans and I can’t help but groan. “Stop, baby,” I groan. “You’re killing me.”

  She stands on her tiptoes and whispers, “Just because I can’t get off doesn’t mean you can’t.”

  I groan again, then step away from her. “No. I’ll wait until you’re better. The next time we are together is going to be special.” Only last week I worried that I would never get to make love to her again. So when we finally can, I am going to worship every inch of her beautiful body. I am already finding it hard knowing I have to wait a little longer, but she is worth it. Just kissing and holding her is enough for now.

  A few minutes later, the nurse comes into the bathroom and clears her throat. “I think you should lie down and rest now, Mrs. Cavanagh,” she says with a raised eyebrow. Brooke looks at the nurse and blushes.

  “Come on, baby,” I say with a smirk. “I will help you get back to your bed.”

  Now that Brooke is out of Intensive Care, she can have visitors. My parents come to visit, along with Michelle, Craig, and Lara. Brooke is feeling a lot better after her shower. Lara is happy to see her, but spends most of the time talking to her new baby cousin.

  While everyone is visiting, I leave the hospital for a short time because I want to go to our favourite restaurant and get Brooke some decent food. All she has eaten in eleven days is some toast and the soup my mother brought in.

  Later in the day, Claire comes to visit. I’d spoken with her on the phone a lot over the past week, but this is the first time I have seen her. She is happy to see Brooke and Angel. She doesn’t have any children of her own. I don’t know why Claire and her husband have never had children. Maybe it is because they are both workaholics.

  When it is time for Claire to leave, I walk her outside because I want to talk to her about how things are going at the office. I also want to let her know that when Brooke is out of hospital, I will be coming back. Luckily, I have a team of great people working for me, but I need to get back to work, even if it is only part-time for now.

  On my way back inside, I stop off at the nurse’s desk in maternity to get Angel’s bottle. It is nearly time for her to eat.

  CHAPT

  ER NINE

  Brooke

  It is nice having everyone coming to visit me today, but I am tired. My father stays with me, while Logan walks Claire outside.

  I ask my dad if he can give Angel to me because I want to cuddle with her before taking a nap. She is still asleep, but it is nearly time for her bottle anyway. I want to bathe her and change her more than anything, but it just isn’t possible yet.

  As I watch my sweet little girl sleep, another visitor arrives. It is Jill. Like everyone else, she is happy to see me. Remembering that I’d been in a coma for over a week is a weird feeling.

  She is a little teary when she talks with me, but her face lights up when she finally gets to meet Angel. She brought some flowers for me and a present for the baby. Logan told me yesterday that I had a lot of flowers delivered when I was in Intensive Care. Unfortunately, flowers weren’t allowed in ICU, but he had taken photos of all the arrangements and kept all the cards.

  I also have a pile of letters and cards from my girls at the studio. I haven’t had a chance to read all of them yet, but the ones I have are very sweet. It is nice to feel loved by so many people. Once I am feeling better, I will reply to them all.

  Jill asks if she can hold Angel. “I can’t wait until you are well enough to come home,” she says with a smile. I am looking forward to going home, too. The doctor says I will probably be able to leave in a few days. Even though he says that I won’t be able to dance for a while, I can still go into the studio and visit everyone.

  Once Jill has her cuddle-time with Angel, she passes her back to me. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?” she asks. “I have been so worried about you and I have missed you dearly. The house has been very empty.”

  “I’m still a bit sore, but I’m looking forward to coming home.”

  “You gave us such a scare. I am so happy you are going to be fine, especially after what happened with Chris and all.” She puts her head down and wipes a tear off her face.

  “What happened to Chris?” I ask.

  She looks at me, puzzled, but she doesn’t say anything.

  “What happened to Chris, Jill?” I ask again, as Logan walks back into the room.

  “Jill!” he practically screams.

  She quickly turns to look at him. “I am sorry, Mr. Cavanagh,” she apologises. “I thought she knew.”

  “I think you better leave,” Logan says. He is being extremely rude and I don’t like it.

  “Don’t you dare speak to her like that,” I snap.

  She looks back at me and the tears are falling freely down her face. I reach over and grab her hand. “You don’t have to go anywhere, Jill,” I say before glaring at Logan. I had a feeling that Logan was keeping something from me but, regardless, he has no right to be so rude to Jill.

  My father gets up from where he is sitting and walks over to the bed, taking Angel out of my arms. “Jill, would you like to come and get a coffee?” he asks kindly. “I think Logan and Brooke have some things to discuss.”

  He walks over to Logan and snatches Angel’s bottle out of his hands, giving him a dirty look. Jill wipes her eyes and nods her head, giving me a sad smile.

  “Come back and see me before you leave,” I plead.

  She leans over and kisses my cheek. “I will.”

  As she walks towards the door, she apologises to Logan again. He puts his hand on her shoulder. “I am sorry for the way I just spoke to you, Jill,” he says with a sigh. “It is not your fault. You didn’t know.”

  I still have no idea what they are talking about. I watch as my father puts Angel in her bassinet before he and Jill leave the room.

  With a sad look on his face, Logan walks over towards the bed. He sits down beside me and puts his hand in mine. After putting his head down, he takes a deep breath. “Brooke,” he says, hesitantly, as he briefly makes eye contact with me, “there is something I need to tell you. It’s about the accident.” He puts his head down again. It is like he is scared to look at me.

  “Please look at me,” I say.

  When he looks up, he has tears in his eyes. I can tell that whatever he is going to say is bad. Since coming out of my coma yesterday, I have had a strong feeling there is something he is keeping from me.

  He just stares at me for a few seconds. His face is now blank and void of any emotion.

  “Please, Logan,” I plead. “I need to know what you are keeping from me.”

  I notice a tear fall down his cheek, but he still doesn’t say anything. He lets go of my hand and runs his fingers though his hair, something he does when he is worried or nervous. He gets up from his chair and starts pacing the room, still refusing to speak.

  “Please, Logan. You are starting to freak me out.”

  He looks over at me before sighing heavily. “I don’t think you are ready to hear what I have to say,” he says.

  “I
don’t give a fuck what you think,” I snap. “I want to know.”

  He lets out another sigh. “Fuck, Brooke,” he says in frustrated tone. “You have just come out of a coma. Your injuries were life threatening, for fuck’s sake. A shock like this is the last thing you need.”

  “Just tell me!” I know how overprotective he can be sometimes. Frankly, I hate the way he keeps things from me, just to try and protect me. I am a big girl and he doesn’t need to carry on like this.

  He sits back down beside me again, but he still doesn’t say anything.

  “Logan, I demand that you tell me now,” I order. My anger is rising by the minute.

  He takes another deep breath, then looks me in the eye. “Chris was driving the car when you had your accident.” I just stare at him. I try to remember what happened, but I can’t.

  “Is he alright?” I ask. “Was he injured, as well?” He puts his head down and runs his fingers through his hair again.

  “Please, tell me,” I plead in a quiet voice.

  He looks up at me again, tears rolling down his face. “He didn’t survive, Brooke,” he replies sadly.

  Holy fuck!

  My hand immediately flies up to my mouth. As the shock sets in, my body starts to tremble, and I am finding it really hard to breathe.

  Suddenly, I am gasping for air. I can feel the warmth of my tears as they stream down my face. Even though I can feel that my body is shaking, I actually feel numb. Logan quickly stands up and wraps his arms around me, as a loud ugly sob escapes me. Logan’s tears are running down the side of my neck and blending in with mine.

  No words are spoken as we hold each other tightly. I don’t know how long we cry in each other’s arms. Minutes…hours… I don’t know. My mind is racing. I am finding it hard to comprehend that Chris is dead.

  God, I wish I can remember what happened.

  I can’t wrap my head around the fact that he is actually gone. The guilt that I survived and he didn’t is almost too much to bear. I also feel for Logan. I know how much he loved Chris and what a big part of his life he’d been. The last two weeks for him must have been a living hell…having to deal with the death of his friend, me in a coma, and being solely responsible for a new baby. I feel guilty that I hadn’t been able to support him when he needed me most.

  “I’m so sorry,” I sob into his chest.

  He leans back so he can look at me. “What are you sorry about, baby?” he asks, confused.

  “I’m sorry that Chris is gone and that I wasn’t here to support you through it.”

  “Oh, Brooke. You have nothing to be sorry about. None of this is your fault. What happened was totally out of your control.” If only I can remember what happened. I can’t even recall being in the car!

  He leans forward and places his hands on either side of my face. Then he kisses me sweetly on the lips. “I am sorry I didn’t tell you earlier,” he apologises. “I knew you wouldn’t deal with it well, and I just wanted you to recover from your injuries before I gave you a shock like that.”

  He wipes his tears away from his face with the back of his hand, then he wipes mine. I know by the way he is looking at me, that he is trying to figure out what I am thinking and how I am feeling. There is so much spinning around in my head at that moment.

  I put my head down because I am finding it hard to look at him. The guilt I am now feeling is overwhelming.

  “Don’t look away from me, Brooke,” he pleads. I know he is worried that I am shutting him out, but I just can’t bear to look at him right now. The sadness I know is in his eyes is breaking my heart.

  “Please look at me, baby,” he whispers. I shake my head. I can’t even speak. He puts his finger under my chin and lifts my head up, so I close my eyes. I just can’t bear to look at him.

  “Brooke, please don’t shut me out.”

  Eventually, I look at him. He is hurting enough and I don’t want to hurt him any more than he already is.

  “Talk to me,” he begs sadly.

  I take a deep breath, tears rolling down my face. “I feel guilty that I survived and he didn’t.”

  “Oh, baby,” he says, wrapping me in his arms again. “You have nothing to feel guilty about. It was an accident. You were both just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Nobody could have prevented it or seen it coming.”

  “I don’t understand why I am here and he is not?” I cry.

  “It was just fate, Brooke,” he says. “As cruel as it may sound, this is the way it was meant to be. If anyone is to blame, it is the drunk driver who ran a red light and crashed into the car. Chris wasn’t wearing his seatbelt, either. That is totally unlike him, but that may have contributed to his death.”

  He holds me in his arms as I cry. I don’t know if I will ever be able to feel whole again. It suddenly feels like part of me has died, similar to the feeling I had when my mother passed. At least I had time to prepare myself for that, though. This is a totally different scenario. I wasn’t expecting him to die, and I never got to tell him how I felt about him.

  My father comes back into the room. He is still pushing Angel’s bassinet but Jill is no longer with him. “How are you both?” he asks in a concerned voice. Logan looks over at him. No words are needed. “Jill is out in the hall,” he says. “She caught a bus down here, so I am going to give her a lift home. Is there anything I can do for either of you before I go?”

  “Can you tell Jill I said goodbye, and thank her for coming to visit me?” I ask. I feel bad for her. She is so sweet and she didn’t deserve the way Logan spoke to her. Now I understand why he screamed at her, but she would never intentionally hurt anyone.

  My father nods his head as he pushes Angel over towards the bed. “Will do, sweetheart,” he says. “I fed and changed Angel before she fell back to sleep.”

  “Thank you, Dad,” I say.

  He comes towards the bed to kiss me goodbye. “Are you sure you are okay?” he asks. I just nod. I know if I answer him, I will start to cry again. He tenderly kisses my cheek.

  “I love you,” he says. “I will come back to see you in the morning. If you need anything before then, just call me.”

  “I love you, too,” I whisper, as I put my head down. I can feel another breakdown coming. I know if I look at the concern on his face, I will.

  He puts his hand on Logan’s shoulder. “Look after my girl.”

  “Will do. I will see you in the morning.”

  “Okay, kiddo,” he replies, patting his back. When he finally leaves, the room is silent. We don’t say a word to each other. I still can’t bring myself to look at Logan, but I can feel him looking at me.

  I close my eyes and rest my head on the pillow. I am physically and emotionally drained. As I drift off to sleep, I feel Logan grab hold of my hand, his thumb gently stoking the inside of my palm.

  ****

  I don’t know how long I slept, but I wake to the sound of a baby crying. When I open my eyes, Logan is pacing the floor with Angel in his arms.

  “Is she okay?” I ask.

  He looks over at me. “Hey, baby,” he says with a smile. “She’s fine. It’s nearly time for her bottle, so she’s just hungry. Do you want to hold her while I go and get one from the nurse?” I nod.

  He brings her over to me and gently places her in my arms, then kisses my forehead. “How are you feeling?” I just shrug. I’m not really sure how to put my feelings into words. I feel terrible, guilty, empty.

  Logan brushes the back of his hand down the side of my face. Instantly, tears well up in my eyes again. “I will be back in a minute,” he whispers. Angel is still crying so I hold her close to me. I gently run one on my fingers over her cheek. She is so beautiful. She turns her head to the side and starts to suck on the tip of my little finger. No matter how empty I am feeling inside, this makes me smile.

  Logan comes back into the room, shaking the bottle and tipping a small amount out on his wrist to test the temperature. Being a father seems to come naturally to him. He
passes the bottle to me.

  As I watch her sucking happily on her bottle, I feel the tears coming again. I am glad I am alive to be able to be a mother to my daughter, but that thought makes me feel guilty, too.

  “Don’t cry, baby,” he says. “We can get through this together.” He runs his hands down my hair, but I still can’t bring myself to look at him. “Please, don’t shut me out,” he pleads. “I need you.” I know he is trying to comfort me, but this makes me cry more.

  When Angel finishes her bottle, he takes her from me to burp her. It is just too hard for me to do with my arm in plaster. When he is done, he kisses her before putting her back into the bassinet. I watch as he covers her with a tiny blanket, before he makes his way back over to me. He removes his shoes and lays down beside me. After sliding his arm under my neck, he puts the other one around my waist. He holds me tight against him as I cry into his chest.

  We lay like this until the nurse comes into the room to check on me. I think she is about to lecture Logan for being in bed with me, but when she notices I am crying, she doesn’t say anything. Logan lets go of me and gets out of the bed. She checks my vitals and then says that my dinner is on the way. I shake my head.

  “You need to eat, Mrs. Cavanagh,” she says sternly. “If you don’t build up your strength, the doctor won’t let you go home.” I really don’t feel like eating, but I’m not going to argue with her. “Can I get you something for the pain?” she asks. I just shake my head. I am still feeling numb inside. My head is pounding, but I don’t think medication can help me with that—unless they knocked me out completely. As appealing as that sounds, I know that isn’t the answer. All the sadness and guilt will still be there when I wake up.

  My dinner arrives a few minutes later, but there is no way I can eat anything because my stomach is tied in knots. Logan has them put it on the table, then he wheels it over to my bed.

  “You need to eat, baby,” he says.