Sexy Hart (Sexy Series)

by Lovell, Dani

“Clare, come on, we need to go. Can you drive? Shall I get us a cab?”

  “No…” I say, clearing my head slightly as I grab my keys from the side table and head for the door. “No, I’ll drive. I need to get there…”

  I open the door and storm out of the house with Alexia closely behind me, closing up. I switch on autopilot and get my car going, Alexia just about making it into the passenger seat before I pull away from the curb. I don’t speak at all. I drive a little too impatiently, and had there been a police patrol car anywhere near, I would, undoubtedly, have been pulled over and further delayed, but instead, there was just an incredible number of incompetent drivers to slow me down.

  When we arrive at the hospital, Alexia speaks for the first time, telling me exactly where he is; my husband; where in this huge, scary hospital my darling, beautiful, handsome husband is. I park in the first available space in the stupid, shitty car park and run towards the hospital, searching for signs to the right department, totally ignoring the pay and display parking rules. So I get a fucking ticket, who cares. It’s the last thing on my mind right now.

  Alexia runs along with me, the stupid heels clicking on the ground like we’re a pair of idiotic teenage girls. “You love him, Clare,” she says, surprising me entirely and I simply stop on the spot and stare at her, hot tears filling my eyes, my throat painful as I swallow the huge, dry lump. I take a deep breath of air and somehow need it desperately, like I’ve been holding it, and at the moment I let it go, I break. Both of my hands covering my mouth, I wail, trying to ask questions, not wanting to know answers, and she immediately embraces me tightly, rocking me ever so slightly.

  “Shh, let’s just get to him, hmm?”

  “Tell me… how…”

  “It was an accident at work. He fell.”

  “From what?” I ask, shouting at her as if she’s not giving me enough information.

  “I don’t know exactly, but it was quite a distance, I believe.”

  “Oh god,” I cry, one hand clutching at my chest, “is he dead, Lex?” I ask, my voice wobbly and weak as my shoulders hunch and my head falls back, tears pouring over my cheeks and into my ears as I look up at the sky, unable to believe I’m having to ask this.

  “Listen, Clare,” she whispers, clutching my wrist, “when Daniel called, he was in surgery, he was alive.” She pauses to take a deep breath to tell me the rest, clearly difficult for her. “But Daniel said we needed to get here, and fast, because…”

  “Because he’s going to die?” I cry, loudly, searching her sad eyes.

  She swallows and tilts her head slightly. “He’s badly injured, but the doctors are working hard, to try to make him better.”

  “No…” I wail, bending over, covering my face with my hands. “He’s my life! I love him, he’s my life… oh god…”

  She rubs my back and suggests we get inside and I nod, standing slowly to follow her through the main doors.

  The walk through the building is hazy. I remember very little about it, other than the beeps and sympathetic looks of old ladies in wheelchairs as I walk past them, red-eyed, wet-cheeked and dazed. We seem to have been walking for hours down corridors with mint green and burnt orange, linoleum floors, fluorescent lighting and that hideous smell of stale disinfectant.

  When we’re finally led to a corridor with chairs and a waiting area, we see Daniel who immediately rushes over to us and wraps his arms around me as I collapse against him, moaning loudly.

  “Oh god, Daniel… please?”

  “I know, sweetheart,” he says, soothingly, “I know. He’s out of surgery.”

  “And? How is he?” I ask, demandingly, looking up at his face.

  “Sit with me,” he says and I automatically shake my head and step away from him, weeping loudly.

  “No! No, don’t tell me that, no…” I cry, again, walking in a circle, searching for something to make this right, not being able to bear the thought of Daniel telling me my man has… that he’s gone.

  “Clare, come,” he says, stepping over to me and wrapping an arm around my shoulders. I’m not really sure what Alexia is doing right now, but I can’t think straight to even care.

  “I’m not going to tell you ‘that’; he’s with us. But he is in a coma, sweetheart.”

  “Oh god, no…” I whisper, staring at his face, my hands on my cheeks as I try to deal with this. “But… but he was just at mine this morning… he was texting me… we’re going out for dinner, Daniel, we’re not supposed to be here.”

  “I know. Bea is in with him at the moment, she knows a lot more than I do, she’ll tell you when she can.”

  “Oh shit,” I say, my stomach knotting painfully, “my god, I didn’t even… my god! How’s Bea? Oh my god!” I cry, hating myself for being so selfish and not even think about Oliver’s sister or parents… oh god, his parents…

  “Are Emily and Edward here?”

  “Yes, they’re in there, too.”

  “Oh, his mum… oh god.” I bend forwards in the chair and rest my head on my knees, trying to alleviate this savage sick feeling that’s escalating rapidly in my stomach. “He can’t die, please God, don’t let him die…” I cry, shuddering violently as I sob, uncontrollably in my seat. “I love you, Oliver… I love you… please… please!” I mumble. “I need to see him,” I decide, suddenly. “Daniel, I need to see him.” I stand, wiping my cheeks and pacing. “Where is he? Tell me where he is, please, Daniel, please?” I beg.

  “Sweetheart, we’re not allowed in there, it’s only family.”

  “No… no…” I weep, falling to my knees, defeated, already feeling a huge loss. He’s in a room… a hospital bed… unconscious, without me. It’s not really true, is it? I can’t see him - I need to see him to confirm that this is really happening. I can’t process this…

  “But he was just having a cup of tea in my room a few hours ago… Lex - you were there! You saw him! This can’t be him… this can’t be happening…” I whimper, huddling up against the wall, sobbing, loudly. “It just can’t be him…”

  Daniel stands from his chair and comes over to sit on his knees on the floor, holding me in his arms as I break down further, loudly wailing, clinging onto his arm. “Please…” I beg him, “please let this be a dream…”

  “I’m so sorry, Clare. I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m sorry that we didn’t have time to call you any earlier, we heard as soon as we got home from work and we came straight here. I called at the first opportunity.”

  I nod, unable to say anything right now. I can’t exactly be surprised, no one fucking knows we are even together, let alone that I’m his wife! Why would anyone call me early? Fucking stupid fucking secret!

  “When was the last time you heard anything, Daniel?” Alexia asks, quietly, as he holds me tightly on the floor, rocking gently.

  “About an hour ago.”

  “Shall I go find somebody to ask?” she asks and just that minute, Bea walks through the door, white as a sheet, and I heave in my throat, anticipating her news.

  “Oh god,” I cry, clambering up from the floor and hurling myself at her, hugging her close to me as we cry together. “How is he? Please?” I ask, quietly.

  “Oh god, Clare… it’s horrible… it’s all so horrible…”

  “I know,” I cry “…but tell me he’s okay, please?”

  “He’s still unconscious. They have said it could be anything from days to months before he begins to come around, if at all.”

  “No, please don’t say that!” I cry, hysterically, holding my shaking hands up to my mouth.

  She clears her throat to continue, weakly. “They have had to paralyse him further to deepen his level of unconsciousness to try to control the inter cranial pressure and have taken some fluid from around his brain to try to help that, as well as lowering his body temperature by a couple of degrees.”

  I watch her face as she tells me and it feels surreal… she can’t possibly be talking about the perfect brain inside my Oliver… She sound
s like a doctor.

  “But they have said he’s in the most critical period right now, if he can make it through the next couple of days, it’s a good sign, then the next couple of weeks. The swelling will be monitored constantly.”

  ‘Make it through the next couple of days’… make it through. Can my Oliver… my husband, make it through the next couple of days without dying? What sort of fucking thing is that to ask two months into marriage? I need him… I can’t live without him… I want to be in a coma, right there next to him. If he dies, I want to die with him.

  I remember my period starting earlier today and it makes me want to rip my female reproductive system from my body and stamp on it until it’s nothing but pulp. Bastard! Why couldn’t it have just let me get pregnant for him? He’d have something to live for… he’d make sure he was here for our baby… I’d have my little piece of Oliver inside me to comfort me until Oliver is back with us.

  “How will he recover?” I ask, emotionless.

  “They don’t know anything like that… they said we’ll have to wait and see. It will be better if he wakes from the coma sooner, rather than later, once they have reduced the drugs they’re giving him to paralyse him further.”

  “And did they give any… any kind of…” I don’t know how to say it.

  “They said in people with similar Glasgow Coma Scores, which refers to how responsive they are, the mortality rate is around fifty percent…” she says, trailing off as she bursts into tears again and is immediately embraced by her fiancé.

  “Daniel… I can’t stand it… I can’t bear to see him like that - he looks so… quiet.”

  Overcome with emotion, I lean against the wall, facing away from everybody and just let go, quietly, silent sobs rippling through my body, warm tears running down my face and my eyes hot, swollen and tired. I kick my shoes off my feet and under the chairs, needing to feel comfort of any kind, and I slide down to the floor again. My dress is too tight, my legs are freezing on the cold, linoleum floor, but that’s nothing compared to the deep, agonising ache at the realisation this it is actually Oliver in there.

  “Bea…” I say, tentatively, “would I be able to see him, please?”

  “My mum asked for you, yeah, I’ll take you in now.” She stands, wiping her eyes and straightening herself. Why on earth has her mum asked for me?

  She stands next to me and takes my hand, offering a slight, strengthening smile before walking with me towards the double doors ahead. As we go through, I see two more sets of doors, and Bea guides us to stand in front of one set.

  “There’s a lot going on in there, okay, darling?”

  I nod, silently, understanding what she’s saying, and we slowly move forwards and through the doors into the clinical, disturbing box that is Oliver’s hospital room.

  I immediately release Bea’s hand when I see him, and I rush straight to his side to talk to him. I weep, uncontrollably when I see his beautiful face under the mask and tubes and those horrific black eyes.

  “Darling, I’m here, I’m here, please be okay… please Oliver,” I beg.

  Comforting hands grasp the tops of my arms as Emily leans in to hug me from behind. “Darling, you need to be in here with us.”

  “Oh, thank you, thank you…” I sob.

  “It’s you, isn’t it?”

  “What is?” I ask softly, desperately wanting to touch Oliver’s hand but not knowing if I’m allowed… there are people monitoring all of this machinery in here - I’m surprised we’re even allowed close.

  “You’re that ring on his finger,” she says, soothingly, gripping my forearm in her hand.

  “I… er…” I stutter, caught totally off guard.

  “Clare, dear…” she whispers, “we know he’s married. The only person that I could think of that Oliver would marry is you… he’s been in love with you for a long time.”

  I turn to look at her, confused. “What… how…”

  “After he… when the paramedics were there, he was conscious slightly. He asked the lovely boy helping him to call his wife and then, he instructed him to take his wedding ring from his pocket and put it on his finger, and told him not to let anyone take it off. It’s because there really was a ring in his pocket, that we know he wasn’t confused.”

  I look over at his left hand and there it is, that plain, yellow gold, Las Vegas band that binds him to me until the day we… I drop my head down and cry, my hand covering my eyes, not able to bear what’s happening right now.

  “I’m so sorry,” I wail, “I’m sorry… we were going to tell you next week… we planned it… you were going to come for dinner and…” I continue to weep between words, “we were going to tell you. We’re so happy, we really are,” I say, desperately, trying to make her see that it’s not terrible. “I love him more than anyone or anything ever before, we were going to tell you and try for babies and be happy, forever… oh god… I need him!” I cry, my knees weak again.

  “Sit, darling,” she says, guiding me to a chair. I sob for a moment as she sits next to me, clutching my hand. She passes me a tissue, and wiping my eyes, trying to control my emotions for a moment, I look up to see Bea staring at me. I turn to look at Emily, her lovely face, red and swollen. Edward sits in a chair on the other side of his son with his head in his hands.

  “Clare… how did you get married?” Bea asks, in disbelief.

  “Oh god…” I whisper, preparing myself to have to do this, because of course - they need to know. “Well… when you guys went home on my birthday - this was in Vegas, Emily - we spend the night talking and he wound up proposing to me.”

  “You got married when you were drunk?” she cries.

  “No. He took me home to the hotel to think about it. I wanted to do it immediately, anyway, I’ve loved him for a very long time, Bea… Emily. I truly have and I’m so in love with him that my heart literally aches for him, every day that I’m not with him. He woke me up the next morning and we went to the county court for a licence and then got married in a chapel straight afterwards. I’m so sorry we didn’t tell you… we both thought it would be better to embark on this romance alone, without admitting what we’d done until we had given ourselves enough time to become a couple, properly. We decided just last night that we would tell you all next week because we’ve been so blissfully happy - I promise you Emily, Edward, we love each other so much… he’s my world, I can’t live without him…”

  Tears thunder down my cheeks as I relay the story. I can’t figure out Bea’s face, but Emily is still clutching my hand, tightly. “Oh, I’m aware that he loves you, darling. I’d like to hear more about what happened, maybe we can talk about it with Oliver when he stirs.”

  Her positivity is comforting and really rather astonishing. Her little boy lies here before her under a sheet, covered in bandages, tubes and masks with injuries I don’t even know about yet, and she’s squeezing my hand, supporting me, helping me feel better about our deception.

  I look sheepishly over to Bea who is frowning, her head tilted with eyes full of tears. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, I’ve hurt my best friend and I hate it. She simply smiles, supportively and comes to hold my other hand, crouching down next to me. She kisses it and rests her cheek against my knee.

  “You pair of devious bastards,” she whispers. “I love you.”

  Of course I cry some more, sobbing as I look over at my poorly husband. Edward, who has been silent this entire time, stands and walks over to us, bending to kiss his wife on the head, then his daughter, and then, surprisingly; me. “I’m going to leave you lovely Hart ladies to get some fresh air for a moment. Darling,” he says, addressing his wife, “I won’t be longer than a few minutes, please make sure Daniel comes to get me if anything happens.”

  “Of course,” Bea responds for her mother, “but Dad, take Daniel with you. Alexia is here too, she can get you if needs be.”

  He nods and leaves the room, silently.

  We sit in quiet stillness for a moment, staring
at Oliver lying there so helplessly, doctors and nurses taking notes and monitoring the machines surrounding him. Tears drop from my lashes and down my cheeks again, I just can’t believe it’s him… I’m staring at his comatose body but still half expecting him to walk through those double doors asking for an update on the patient.

  I shake my head as I begin to cry again, this can’t be happening. I want to talk to him, touch him, kiss him… maybe he’ll wake up when he hears me… feels my skin… I can’t sit here doing nothing; I need to help him. His body is so big and strong, yet he’s lying there so weak; it just seems so… impossible.

  Emily stands and walks to the far corner of the room, facing the wall, and she looks up at the ceiling as if she’s praying. My heart breaks for her, it’s her boy! Her perfect baby boy who so adores her, he can’t be taken from her, from us, he can’t be taken from me, he’s mine; he’s finally mine after all these years of loving him; he’s my best friend, he’s the father of my future children, my husband. My husband. Oh dear god, I don’t know how I’m supposed to cope with this, I need to stand or walk or… something, I don’t know.

  “Can I touch him?” I whisper to Bea and she simply nods and tells me to double check with the doctors. So I slowly stand, brushing my dress, nervously, as I do, and step over to the side of Oliver’s bed, weeping as I take a closer look at his perfect face, flawed by those dark, black bruises. “Um… please could I… could I touch him?” I ask, tentatively and the doctor responds, letting me know that I need to be careful of the tubes, but it’s best for us to touch and talk to him, let him know we’re here.

  I look over to Emily to get her approval but she’s still facing the wall, her hands on her cheeks, suffering in silence. Bea sits on my chair, her knees brought up to her chest with her feet on the seat, resting her cheek on her legs, so I decide it’s okay for me to take this moment to try to communicate with my beautiful, handsome man.

  I slip around to the other side of his bed to hold the hand with no tubes near it; the hand that bears his wedding ring. As I slip my fingers inside his, his warmth surprises me - his lifelessness and knowledge that they’ve reduced his body temperature makes me imagine his body to feel very cold, but it’s not, and though it’s no incredible sign that he’ll be okay, it’s a comfort anyway; he is alive, he’s in this room with us, just sleeping… sleeping very, very deeply and he will come around soon, the Oliver I am so completely in love with will be back soon.