My Forever

by J. L. Perry

  ****

  Logan

  When I wake up, light is pouring through the windows. I rub my face and reach for my phone. It is just after 9:00 a.m. I’d slept through the night. There are still no messages from Brooke. I want to get back to the hospital so I get out of bed and put my clothes on.

  When I get downstairs, my parents are already up. Angel is lying awake in her stroller. My mother is making breakfast. I kiss her on the cheek, then pick up Angel. “Good morning, my angel.”

  “How’d you sleep, honey?” my mum asks.

  “Pretty good. I want to get back to the hospital,” I say. “Can one of you give me lift?”

  “Sure, but you need to eat breakfast first. I’ll keep Angel with me for a while, then I’ll bring her to the hospital later.” I know Brooke will want to see her, but I don’t argue. It will give me some time to talk with Brooke alone.

  Once I have eaten, my father drives me to the hospital. As I walk toward the door leading to Brooke’s room, the nurse stops me. “Mr Cavanagh,” she says, grabbing hold of my arm. “You can’t go in there just yet. Your wife is with the doctor. She had a bad night.”

  “What do you mean ‘a bad night’?”

  “Earlier this morning, I found your wife curled up on the floor. The poor thing was in a real state,” she says.

  “Why didn’t anybody call me?! I left my number with the night nurse, instructing her to call me if there was a problem!” I run my fingers through my hair in frustration. I am furious.

  “The night nurse left at 1:00 a.m., and I didn’t find Brooke until after my shift started.”

  “What did you mean when you said she was in a ‘real state’?” I ask through gritted teeth. My anger is rising by the minute.

  “She was inconsolable. She wasn’t making much sense. All she kept saying was, ‘I remember…and it’s all my fault’. She said it over and over. Even after I managed to get her back into bed, she continued to cry. She has been lying in bed and crying all morning. As soon as the doctor came in for his rounds this morning, I sent him straight in to see her.”

  Saying I am pissed is an understatement. “She has been like this for hours!” I scream, “and nobody thought to fucking call me?!” The nurse looks at me like she is shocked by what I just said. I don’t give two fucks what she thinks, though. I just want to go in there and be with her.

  “Fuck!” I shout I knew I shouldn’t have left her last night. “I am taking her home!”

  “Please, Mr. Cavanagh,” the nurse pleads. “The doctor should be out shortly and you can discuss it with him.”

  As I pace the corridor, my phone rings. It is Brooke’s father. He asks me how she is was doing. “I am taking her fucking home!” I snap. “She has been crying all night and nobody bothered to call me!”

  “How come you weren’t with her?”

  “She sent me home! I couldn’t force her to let me stay!”

  “I’m on my way,” he says. “I will be there in ten minutes.

  A few minutes later, the doctor comes out of Brooke’s room. I walk over to him. “How is she?” I ask.

  “I had to give her a sedative to calm her down,” he replies. “It is common for some patients to suffer post-traumatic stress after being in a serious accident.”

  I told him that, yesterday afternoon, she found out that the driver of the car she was in had died. “That could have set her off. Once she has rested and calmed down, I will send in the hospital’s psychologist in to talk to her,” he says.

  “I want to take her home.”

  “I would like to keep her for a few more days,” he adds.

  “I will hire a doctor, nurse, and psychologist to come to the house. She needs to be in a familiar environment, surrounded by people who love her,” I say. I am still angry that they had left her alone for so long when she was so distressed. I stare at the doctor, daring him to defy me. There is no way I am going to back down. The doctor is silent for a few minutes.

  Frustrated, he finally says, “If that is what you want, Mr. Cavanagh, I will organise her discharge papers.”

  “Thank you. Can I go and see her now?”

  “Of course. She’s heavily sedated and will be asleep for a while, however.” I nod at him as I walk into the room.

  She looks so peaceful. I can see the area around her eyes is puffy and red, which breaks my heart. I shouldn’t have left her, even though she asked me to go. I had a feeling she wasn’t coping when I left last night. I should have insisted on staying.

  I pick up her hand and bring it to my mouth, gently kissing her fingers one by one. This whole situation is so fucked up. She doesn’t deserve any of this. She has been through so much already.

  I haven’t been sitting with her long before her father comes flying through the door. He is out of breath, so I presume he has run all the way from the car park. “How is she?” he asks.

  “The doctor had to sedate her. Apparently, she had some sort of breakdown last night.”

  He comes over and stands beside the bed. I can see the concern on his face. “Did it have something to do with Chris’ death?” I nod.

  “I am taking her home. I am just waiting for the doctor to bring in the discharge papers. Will you please call my mum and ask her to keep Angel with her for a little bit longer? Tell her I will come over later and pick her up.” He pulls out his phone and leaves the room.

  When he comes back in, he tells me it is all settled. “Jill was pretty upset when I took her home yesterday, you know,” he says. I feel bad for the way I had spoken to her.

  “I’ll apologise to her again when I get home. I just knew that Brooke wouldn’t take it well. I just wanted to wait a while before I told her.”

  “She was going to find out sooner or later,” he replies. “And she still would have been angry that you kept it from her.” I nod and put my head in my hands. I know he is right, but it is killing me to see her like this.

  I stand up. “I need to organise a doctor, nurse, and psychologist to come to the house,” I say.

  “Don’t worry about that, Logan. I will organise it for you. You have enough on your plate right now.”

  “Thank you.” I grab my doctor’s business card out of my wallet and hand it to him. “Can you see if he will come to the penthouse about 2:00 p.m.? Tell him I will pay him whatever he wants, just make it happen.” He nods his head, then leaves the room again.

  I know my doctor will be able to put me onto a good psychologist or physiatrist. Whatever she needs, I’ll make sure she gets it. I am hoping that, after the sedatives and a bit of rest, she will be okay.

  ****

  Brooke

  When I open my eyes, I am in Logan’s arms. I feel groggy. Logan is smiling down at me, but I have no idea where I am. “Hi, baby,” he says lovingly. “How do you feel?”

  I look around the room and am surprised to see that I am back at the penthouse. He walks up the stairs towards our bedroom and gently places me on the bed. After pulling the covers over me, he climbs in beside me and wraps me in his arms.

  I lay there for a few minutes, trying to get my bearings. The last thing I remember is being at the hospital. The side of my face is pressed against his chest as I listen to his heartbeat. I’ve missed that sound. He kisses the top of my head. “Go back to sleep, baby,” he says. “You are home now.”

  It hits me like a ton of bricks. The hospital, the accident, Chris, my dream. I am suddenly finding it hard to breathe again. I quickly sit up, ignoring the pain that shoots down my left side. I welcome the pain. It makes me feel something other than the numbness and the heavy pressure that is residing in my chest.

  “Fuck, Brooke,” Logan says, quickly sitting up and pulling me into his arms. “Are you alright?”

  I push him away because I don’t want him to touch me right now. I need fresh air. I feel claustrophobic again. I move to the side of the bed before Logan grabs me. “Brooke, where are you going?”

  “I…I…can’t…breathe,” I pant.r />
  Logan quickly gets up and comes around to my side of the bed. “What do you mean you can’t breathe?” he asks in a panic. I can feel him looking at me, but I can’t look at him. I am worried that if he looks into my eyes, he will see the truth…that I killed Chris.

  It is all my fault that Chris is dead. If I hadn’t gotten into the car that day, Chris would still be alive. I know that if Logan finds out the truth about the accident, he will blame me, too. Living with the guilt that I am already feeling is consuming me. The thought of Logan blaming me, as well, is just too much to bear.

  ****

  Logan

  I stand beside the bed, looking down at Brooke. She is pale and is gasping for air. Her head is down, so I kneel in front of her. She turns her head away. Fuck, why won’t she look at me? I gently shake her. “Baby, talk to me,” I beg. I can hear the panic in my voice. “What do you mean you can’t breathe?” She still won’t answer me. “Brooke, talk to me. Do you need a doctor?”

  She pushes past me and gets on her hands and knees, crawling towards the balcony. I get up and scoop her into my arms. “Do you need fresh air?” She nods.

  I quickly make my way over to the balcony and open the door, then gently place her down on the outdoor lounge. She leans her head back and tries to take in some air. She is still struggling to breathe, though. I quickly pull my phone out of my pocket and call my doctor. I tell the receptionist it is an emergency, so she puts me through straight away.

  When I explain to the doctor what is happening, he says that it sounds like Brooke is hyperventilating. “Try to get her to slow down her breathing and relax,” he says. “She is probably experiencing some kind of panic attack. I’m with a patient at the moment, but I will be there within the hour. Keep her relaxed, and she should be fine until I get there. If she isn’t breathing fine in a few minutes, call an ambulance.”

  After I end the call, I sit down beside her and rub her back. She flinches when I touch her. I am so confused, and don’t understand why she is reacting this way towards me.

  “Try to relax, baby,” I say. “Take some deep breaths and relax. The doctor thinks you are hyperventilating. He will be here within the hour. In the meantime, you need to try and relax.”

  She still won’t look at me, but she is listening because she is trying to take deep breaths. I continue to rub her back, encouraging her breathing.

  I start thinking about the classes we took when Brooke was pregnant. We never got to use any of the breathing exercises we had practiced. “Remember what we learned in those birthing classes?” I say and start to do the breathing with her. I can tell it is helping.

  “That’s it,” I encourage. “Just like that.” After a few minutes, she is breathing easy again. She closes her eyes and I notice a tear run down her face.

  “Oh, baby,” I say, pulling her into my arms. At first, she hesitates, then leans against me. “Do you want to take a bath? Maybe it will help you relax.” Crying, she nods. My heart is breaking for her.

  I ask her if she wants to stay outside while I run the bath. She nods again, wiping the tears from her eyes. I sit back so I can look at her, but she keeps her head down. I put my hand under her chin and tilt her face up so she is looking at me. She has a blank look in her eyes. It worries me.

  “Please, don’t shut me out,” I plead. “Together, we can get through this.” She still doesn’t say anything. She has tears pooling in her eyes again. I lean forward and softly kiss her lips, which causes her to flinch. I pull her against me again, then sit there and rock her for a few more minutes. She is slipping through my fingers. I can feel it. I need to find a way to bring her back to me. After kissing the top of her head, I tell her I will go and run her a bath.

  When the bath is ready, I go back out onto the balcony. Brooke is just sitting there. The blank look is still on her face, as she stares straight ahead. I tell her the bath is ready, but she just continues to sit there. The fact that she won’t look at me is killing me. I walk over to her, gently lift her into my arms, and carry her into the bathroom. She doesn’t snuggle into me like she usually does.

  After gently putting her down, I start to remove her top, but she stops me. I am surprised that she doesn’t want me to help her. She has never been like that with me before. I stare at her because I’m not sure what to say.

  Brooke stands there with her arms wrapped around herself, her head down. It is like she is waiting for me to leave. I hate that she is acting like this towards me, but I don’t say anything. I suppose she just needs some time and space.

  “I’ll go downstairs and let Jill know that the doctor will be here soon.” She doesn’t look at or answer me.

  “I’ll be back soon,” I say with a sigh, then leave the bathroom.

  After I speak to Jill, I head back upstairs to check on Brooke. The bathroom door is closed. She never usually closes the door. When I get closer, I can hear her crying. I go to open the door, but it is locked. Fuck! I knock. “Are you alright, baby?” I ask. No answer. I want to kick the fucking door down. She is shutting me out, and there is nothing I can do about it. All I can do is be there for her when she is ready to let me back in. I hope she doesn’t take too long because I need my wife back.

  I sit down on the floor outside the bathroom door. I rest my head against the wall while I listen to her crying, tears running down my face. My heart is breaking for her.

  After sitting there for at least twenty minutes, I can’t take it anymore. I get up off the floor and knock on the door again. “Open the door, Brooke,” I order as calmly as I can. She’s stopped crying now, but is still refusing to talk to me.

  CHAPT

  ER ELEVEN

  Brooke

  I hate treating Logan like this, but I don’t have choice. Shutting him out seems like the only way. I can’t let him find out the truth. Hurting Logan is hard, but having him hate me seems far worse.

  It feels like my heart has shattered into thousands of tiny pieces. I am so numb inside. Never in my life have I felt such despair.

  He is knocking on the door again. I know he is just worried about me. The last few weeks have been hell for him.

  I get out of the bath and wrap myself in my robe before unlocking the door, but I don’t open it. I make my way over to the basin to brush my teeth before I climb back into bed. As I am running a comb through my hair, I look up into the mirror. I see Logan standing at the door, watching me. The sad look on his face breaks my heart.

  I put my head back down because I don’t want to look at him. I can’t. Not only because I can’t bear to see that tortured look. I am also worried that if he looks hard enough, he will see exactly what is upsetting me. I put the comb back in the drawer and make my way toward the bathroom door, still avoiding his gaze.

  As I go to walk past Logan, he grabs my arm. “Please don’t do this, Brooke,” he pleads. The sadness in his voice is like a dagger straight to my heart. He doesn’t deserve this, but it is the only way.

  I pull my arm out of his grip and make my way to the bed. I don’t bother taking my robe off as I climb under the covers and close my eyes.

  As I’m looking away from him, I hear Logan walk across the room. The bed dips as he sits down beside me. He reaches over and strokes my hair. I tightly close my eyes so the tears won’t escape.

  “I know you are going through a hard time at the moment,” he softly says. “I just want you to know that I am here when you are ready to talk. I love you, and I know what you are feeling. He was my friend, too.”

  The tears are now threatening to escape, but I don’t want him to see them. I don’t move or say anything. Chris was his friend. I understand that but, other than that, he has no idea what I am going through. He wasn’t the one who killed him!

  ****

  Logan

  I’m not sure if it is just Chris’ death that is behind the change, but I am pretty sure it is the main reason. Up until Brooke found out that he’d died in the accident, she seemed fine. From the moment s
he found out, something shifted. That night, she asked me to leave the hospital and with each passing hour since, she seems to be slipping further and further away from me.

  She just lays there with her eyes closed, as I stroke her hair and talk to her. She doesn’t say anything, but I didn’t really think she would. I just want her to know that I am here when she is ready. I want and need her more than ever, but I will wait forever if I have to.

  There is a knock on the bedroom door. It is Jill. “Mr. Cavanagh,” she says, “the doctor is downstairs. Do you want me to send him up?”

  “Yes, please, Jill,” I reply. I get up and open the bedroom door. I shake the doctor’s hand when he walks over to me.

  “How is she now?” he asks. I just shake my head. I don’t really know what to say to him. He will only have to look at her to know exactly why I have asked him to come. The blank look on her face and her lifeless eyes say it all.

  He had taken care of Brooke all through her pregnancy, so he has come to know her pretty well. The Brooke before the accident and the one lying in the bed behind me are miles apart.

  Before he enters the room, I give him the follow-up letter that I received from the hospital. It lists all her injuries and the treatment she received while she was there. I walk over to the bed, kneeling down beside it. “Brooke, the doctor is here to see you,” I say in a gentle voice.

  She rolls over and looks at me, then the doctor. She sighs as she sits up, holding her side and moaning a little as she does. It is obvious that she is still in pain. The doctor greets her and she gives him a small smile, before hanging her head.

  He asks her how she is feeling and she just shrugs. The doctor turns to me. “Could you leave us alone for a little bit, Mr. Cavanagh? I want to talk to Brooke in private.” I don’t want to go, but I do. She isn’t talking to me, so I hope she will open up to the doctor.

  I make my way downstairs to the kitchen. “Is there something I can get you, Mr. Cavanagh?” Jill asks. I just shake my head and head over to the bar. I need a fucking drink.