Lives Collide (Collide #1)

by Kristina Beck

  “My life changed exponentially. I stopped working at the hospital, not knowing if I would ever go back. My parents drove me back to a quiet apartment filled with Jessica’s things and all the new baby clothes, toys, and furniture. Even though I wanted to be alone, the quiet was unbearable. I went straight to bed and held on to Jessica’s pillow so I could smell her rosy scent. She always smelled like roses. I associated roses with her. Now I can’t stand the sight or smell of them. Next to the bed was the crib we’d bought. A crib that would never be slept in. I cried until my head was going to explode.”

  He lets go of my hand and leans on his elbows. His head hangs toward the floor.

  “During the days leading up to the funeral, I found out Jessica died from septic shock due to a common streptococcal infection. Since she worked in the pediatric ward, she was probably exposed while working. It’s extremely rare, but there have been similar cases reported. Since she was dead for a couple of hours before we found her, the baby couldn’t survive.

  “I had to plan the funeral with Jessica’s parents. The worst part was picking out a coffin. I wanted my son to be buried with his mom. I couldn’t imagine it any other way. Our son was growing in her until the last day of their lives. He needed to stay with his mom. He was positioned on her chest like he was sleeping. They looked so beautiful and so peaceful. I wanted to be laying in there with them. Who was I without them?”

  He faces me. I watch a single tear fall down his cheek. My shaking hand raises and catches it as it drips from his chin.

  “I named him Jacob. We had a list of names, and Jacob was one of the three boy’s names we’d chosen. Her favorite name was Jacob. If the baby was a girl, I would have named her Rose. I looked at the list today, wondering how different my life would be if they were still alive.”

  He thought about this today? I feel a ping of disappointment or maybe jealousy. I’m so selfish to even think this way, with the torture he has been through.

  “Days after the funeral, I shut down. I didn’t want to see anyone. Getting drunk was my only way to numb the pain. Getting rid of their things was unthinkable. I wanted the apartment to stay the same. I didn’t go back to work; I took a leave of absence. How could I be a doctor if I couldn’t even save their lives?

  “A couple of months went by, seeing my family, Jessica’s parents, and friends randomly. They would come over sometimes to give me some food, clean the apartment, or do some laundry. Slowly, my friends and Jessica’s parents stopped calling because I refused to answer their phone calls or to see them. I haven’t spoken to my best friend in months now. Alexa and my parents are the only ones who stayed to help me. I hardly showered or shaved. I was depressed and sickly looking.

  “Alexa came over one day and told me—not asked me, told me—I was moving in with her until I got back on my feet. I needed to be watched because I was having random suicidal thoughts. Thankfully, not all the time. But those moments snuck up on me when least expected. At that point, I knew she was right, and I had to get myself out of the apartment. The one place that had promised to fill our lives with our future was suddenly filled with death and tragedy.

  “One month later, I moved into this apartment. Thankfully, Alexa has a second bedroom. It’s more luxurious than mine was. It was a change I needed, but it didn’t solve my problems so quickly. I had to pack up the apartment. Give all their stuff away. I gave a lot of Jessica’s things to her parents. Alexa took control of giving away Jacob’s things. I couldn’t do it myself. If I could have, I would’ve brought all of it with me. I only kept the special things I could never part from. Pictures of us together, little notes and cards we wrote each other, sonograms of Jacob as he was growing. Those little things meant more to me than their clothes and furniture.”

  He clears his throat and swallows.

  I get off the couch. “Let me get you some water.” I scurry to the kitchen and retrieve the water within seconds.

  He takes the glass and takes one gulp. He lowers the glass and lets it dangle from his fingertips. Before he has a chance to drop it, I gently remove it from his hand. I rest it on the coffee table. I lightly rub his arm to encourage him to continue.

  “Moving in was a good direction to go, but it was still very difficult for me. I dwelled in my own misery. Alexa and my parents tried for months to pull me out of my rut. I would sit in the dark for hours, talking to Jessica as if she were still there.

  “They asked me numerous times to go to a therapist or self-help group for people who are grieving. I refused to go. I thought no one could cure me. I didn’t deserve happiness again. I vowed I’ll never love anyone again or have another child. My heart belonged to Jessica and Jacob. I would feel guilty if I was with anyone else. I couldn’t take the chance to possibly go through something like that again. I wouldn’t survive. No one could ever replace Jessica.

  “I refused to see Jessica’s parents. They were too much of a reminder of her. I couldn’t do it anymore. I know they were and still are grieving, but so am I. No one could possibly understand what I was going through. Yes, they lost their daughter and future grandson. But I lost the love of my life and my son.”

  He hunches over and lets out a deep sigh, as if all energy has been sucked from his body.

  “The night you saw me at the bar was when I was rock bottom. Ready to give up, torturing myself. Then you appeared next to me when I needed it the most. You were there because of your sadness, but you chose to help me instead. My thoughts and mood changed after you helped me that night. Alexa noticed it the instant she picked me up the next morning. I still have my relapses with drinking though. When I saw you again at the park, it lit me up. The weight I always carry on my chest slowly goes away when we’re together. I don’t understand this effect you have on me, but I like it.”

  He stops talking, but I wait to see if he’ll begin again. I want to do something I know I shouldn’t do. He needs it though. I wrap my arms around him. He’s facing forward, and my arms are around him from the side. My cheek rests against his shoulder. I settle there to see his reaction. He angles his body toward mine and hugs me back. At first the hug is a little tight, but he releases a minimal amount. I can breathe better now.

  We start rocking back and forth ever so slightly. Who started it first, I don’t know. It’s soothing, as if in a rocking chair or being held in my mom’s arms when I was little. We slowly loosen our grip but continue hugging as we fall back against the couch. Somehow his head is lying on my chest, but I’m okay with it. My heartbeat should be comforting to him. I wonder how long it has been since he allowed someone to actually hold him.

  After several minutes, I whisper, “James, are you all right?” No response. Is he sleeping? He’s breathing heavily. His weight is mostly on me, so it’s not the most comfortable position anymore. Very carefully, I release my arms. I push him off me slightly in order to get out from under him. Finally, I’m off the couch but still trying to hold him up with every piece of strength I have. I gently lower him onto his back.

  I elevate his legs so he’s lying in a straight line. I place a pillow under his head and pluck the burgundy cashmere blanket off a corner of the sofa. Before I drape the blanket on him, I stand there and stare. I’m shaken by how stunningly handsome he is when sleeping. Even with spiked, unruly hair. I keep telling myself I shouldn’t be having these thoughts and feelings, but it’s too hard to ignore them. I kneel next to him and gently rub his cheek. I whisper, “Sweet dreams, James.”

  Ten minutes pass as I watch over him. Should I stay and wait for Alexa, or leave and go back to the bar? Before I go, I need to clean up the glass and try to wipe down the wall. It smells like vodka in here. I find cleaning products and a garbage can in the kitchen. After a few minutes, the mess is cleaned up. The smells of vodka and cleaning liquid circulate the room. I hope Alexa isn’t too pissed when she sees this.

  It’s hard to process his loss and depression. I’ve had a lot more time to come to terms with my mom’s death. No one get
s over the death of a loved one. You learn how to cope and accept it. You can heal, but you will never be the same as you were before.

  It still feels like yesterday when it all happened though. People say I’m so strong for being able to deal with the outcome of the accident, but deep down I still feel weak. I know I’ve hidden behind medical school and residency.

  There are five stages of grieving the death of a loved one. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and then acceptance. James seems to be stuck in between depression and acceptance. He hit rock bottom the night we met. He hit a wall tonight, but maybe now that he let it all out, he can start to move on. It doesn’t help to keep everything in. It builds up until you burst.

  I rotate in place with my arms swinging back and forth. I’m really lost as to what to do next with him. Would it be better if I’m here when he wakes up? Or should I wait until—

  “Stop thinking so much, Lisa.”

  I freeze when I hear him whisper. I kneel by his side.

  He turns his head toward me and speaks in a soft tone, as if he has no energy left. “I know you are racking your brain, trying to figure out what to do with me.” He gives me a little smile.

  I rub his cheek. “How did you know that? I don’t want to leave you. I should wait until Alexa comes back. I cleaned up the broken glass and vodka on the wall and carpet. I’m not sure how Alexa will react when she finds out.”

  “For some reason, I feel as if I’ve known you forever. You don’t need to leave unless you want to. I’m sorry I ruined your birthday and for being such a dick when I’m upset.”

  He takes my hand from his face and holds it on his chest. “Now you know my story and why I’m so screwed up. I have no idea what to do next. I’m so lost. I don’t know who I am anymore. I’ll never be the same as I was before.”

  When I look at him and he says these things, I want to pull him into my arms again and make it all go away. But I can’t. “James, I think the first thing you need to do is sleep now. We can talk about this another time,” I say as I run my other hand through his hair.

  He looks into my eyes. “How do you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “You change your tone of voice. It’s almost celestial. It wraps around me like a blanket. Is this your doctor’s voice? Your patients must love it when you speak to them.”

  “I never really noticed. A long time ago someone said that to me, but I just laughed it off. Since then, you’re the only one who has mentioned it. Maybe you are the only one who hears it this way.”

  “Will you help me, please?”

  He catches me off guard. How can I say no? “Yes, I’ll help you as long as you promise to stop throwing glasses of alcohol at the wall.” I poke his chest. Another smile appears briefly, then fades away. “I like it when I make you smile.” I want to help him, but I don’t know if I can.

  He closes his eyes and whispers, “You are the only one who makes me smile.”

  After a few minutes of me stroking his hair, he falls back to sleep. I carefully remove my hand from his and push up from the couch. I turn around in a circle. I’ve been here for a good hour, but I didn’t really look at the apartment itself. I was too focused on him. We could have been in a dark alley, and I wouldn’t have even known or cared.

  A long table against a wall in the living room holds several picture frames. I wander over to them and look at each one. One picture is of James, Alexa, and I’m assuming their parents. His family is so attractive. He’s smiling along with the others. Out of curiosity, I peek at the other pictures to see if Jessica is in any of them.

  I look at James to make sure he is still asleep. I sift through the living room to search for other pictures. There are no others. I snoop in the kitchen, and again nothing. Do I look for pictures in his bedroom? I shouldn’t snoop like this. But I can’t help it.

  My hands shake as I approach one door. I hesitate to open it as I look over to the living room again. One would think I was breaking into a house. I turn the knob, careful not to make any noise. The door slowly opens, but it’s dark. I move to the side to let some light shine in. With the low light, I can see light-colored walls with a plain blue comforter on the messy bed. It looks too plain to be Alexa’s room. Hers would be decorated in bright, happy colors.

  My ears are on high alert for any noise. The last thing I need is for Alexa to come home and find me in here. I look quickly back at the couch to see if there’s any movement. I step into his room and turn on the light. My eyes dart quickly to all corners. I see a couple of items on the nightstand next to his bed. Sweat beads on my forehead.

  Walking quickly toward the nightstand, I see it’s the list of names and the photo of Jessica he mentioned. Picking up the picture is not an option. My stomach turns when I see how beautiful she is, or was. She’s the complete opposite of me. Pregnant, tall, long auburn hair, light skin. I’m not sure about her eye color. I’m short and curvy, with light-brown wavy hair, creamy skin, big blue eyes…and I’m not pregnant and never will be. I have feelings for James I don’t understand, but when I see this picture, those feelings are completely irrelevant. With that, I turn around and exit the room. Sadness tugs on my heartstrings.

  Just as I’m glancing at James one more time, the door opens slowly, and Alexa and Tina mosey into the apartment. I put my finger up to my lips and point to him on the couch.

  I tiptoe over to them and whisper, “We should go. He needs to sleep. Alexa, will you be here all night to watch him?”

  “Yes. I’ll be here. How’s he doing? He looked like he was going to destroy something when he walked away from Cloud Nine. I’m so sorry I asked you to go with him when he was in that state of mind. Especially since it’s your birthday. It was extremely selfish of me.” She hesitates. “You seem to have a special touch when it comes to dealing with him.”

  I shrug. “He’s sleeping like a baby. I hope he is anyway. He threw a glass of vodka at your wall.” I point to the wall that was hit. “I tried to clean up the mess. You can still smell it though. The red paint on your wall seems to have survived.”

  She looks toward the wall and then the couch. “That’s the least of my worries.” She turns back to me. “I guess he told you what happened? I’m sorry you found out the way you did.”

  She looks at Tina. “I told Tina what happened to him because she was concerned about you and wondered why he was so upset.”

  Tina gives me a sympathetic look as she puts her arm around my shoulder for a brief squeeze.

  “I’m so pissed off,” Alexa continues. “He was in such a good mood tonight. He was actually enjoying himself. I could tell by his facial expressions. Then Jessica’s parents were there, standing in front of us.” Her face turns a shade of red as she massages her eyebrows. “I can’t stand that he’s constantly running into walls. He can’t seem to find a way out of his maze of misery.”

  I rub her arm. “He was frantic when we arrived, but he finally broke down and told me everything. It’s good he let it all out. He told me he doesn’t talk openly about it to anyone. He scared me when he threw the glass at the wall, but I stayed anyway. My own experiences helped me understand him more. Maybe more than other people could.”

  She looks directly at me with her moss-green eyes. “The only time I have seen him happy lately is when he has been with you. You are changing him somehow. I know it isn’t easy for him to be around another woman. Yet you bring out some of the old James we’ve missed so much.” She stops to take a deep breath while tears well up in her eyes. “I try to be the strong one for him, but it’s difficult to see him hurt so much. Sometimes I need to cry myself.”

  She grabs my hands. “Please don’t let tonight scare you. Please don’t walk away. I know he’s not your responsibility and he has a lot of baggage, but maybe you can help him more than any of us can. I don’t want you to treat him like a patient. More like a friend. I think he likes it that you are new in his life. You help him see outside his world of pain.”

 
; A weird silence settles between us.

  I sigh. “I’ll do what I can. I’m not a miracle worker. Tonight has been very unusual. I need to think about everything and work on top of it. It’ll be hard for me to be in contact with him. I don’t want him to think I’m blowing him off. Tell him to call me. He has my number.”

  I look down at my watch. “I’m sorry, but I really need to get some sleep. I need to work in six hours.” I look around the apartment frantically. “Please tell me one of you brought my handbag. I completely forgot about it.”

  Tina shakes her hand with it hanging off her finger.

  “Thank you! My keys are in there.”

  Alexa hugs me. She feels like a sister to me. I can see how much she loves him.

  “Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I know this is a lot to digest and to take on. No matter what happens, I hope we’ll see each other again,” she says.

  I smile at Alexa, and then Tina and I walk to the elevator. How, I wonder, did I get into this situation with James?

  The time at work will give me some distance and clarity. Maybe I can convince myself my feelings for James are only sympathy. Nothing else.

  Chapter 24

  Lisa

  I drag my feet into the grocery store and see it’s closing in fifteen minutes. There’s nothing like buying dinner at 9:45 p.m. As I reach over to grab a grapefruit, I hear a familiar voice. My body stiffens. I slowly turn in the direction it’s coming from. It can’t be.

  It’s Bryant, and he’s talking to someone. I crouch behind the grapefruit stand with only my eyes peeking over the top.

  I stay there for a few heart-banging seconds. As if watching something in slow motion, a woman appears. He walks up to her, kisses her forehead, and rubs her big belly. Her pregnant belly. The grapefruit slips from my fingers to the ground, rolling toward his feet. He turns in my direction, and our eyes briefly meet. His eyebrows rise.

  I start to tremble as my heart leaps out of my chest. He can’t see me like this. I leave the basket on the floor, searching for the quickest exit. I take my time as I walk to the cashiers to avoid making a scene. Once I’m near an empty one, I dash through the line.