by Pamela Ann
I felt her nod, understanding somehow. “You’re a great man, Toby. Maybe even better than your best friend,” she replied, bringing a smile to my face.
As I pulled her away from my body, she produced her purse and opened it, drawing out the signed divorce papers.
“I don’t have any clue what made you change your mind or what transpired that afternoon, but whatever this is, I hope it’s long-lasting.”
“Let’s just say that a vision came to me during sleep. Like a beacon or guiding light to show me the way.”
Well, that sounded hopeful, that vision… “I’m delighted to hear that. Truly, I am.”
She did somehow look less troubled. I supposed the hatred that had fired her soul for the past year or so had dissipated and found a different purpose—her unborn baby.
“Before I go, I just want to tell you that a woman that loves with all her heart would never let anything stop her from being with her man. Lucy gave every excuse to leave you. Think about it.”
Great point. However, I had realized that beforehand. “I know.”
“Good.” She smiled before stretching her neck as she stood on her tippy toes to kiss me on the cheek. “Until we meet again, Toby Watson.”
Indeed. “Until then, Amelia.”
Watching her leave, I stood there awhile, mesmerized and astounded of the turn of events.
The future had never looked this positive.
Optimism flowed through me and I had not felt this genuinely blissful in quite a long time.
My life certainly was bursting with surprises.
Chapter 16
Toby
The morning of my flight back, I woke up early, showered and dressed before the break of dawn. After ordering room service for breakfast, I decided to work for a few more hours before readying to leave the hotel and heading towards the airport. Ever since I got here, I had rarely used my mobile and it was overflowing with emails and messages, both business and personal. My morning revolved around that.
The hotel provided a private service to take me to the airport, making everything easy. The ride to the airport was different. This time, I actually saw Madrid, the city itself. It had been influenced by Romans, Iberians, Moors and Arab cultures; its unmarred beauty, historic wealth and style of architecture somehow saddened me because I hadn’t truly experienced the city. Sure, I had travelled here more than I could count and lived here during weekends when I was obligated to leave Marbella when work didn’t consume me. I had been wrapped in my own misery, so I had neglected to see something that was a distinct part of my life. After all, I had gotten married here, in one of the most historic Cathedrals in Europe.
Spain, overall, had been my home for the past year and a half. I had never thought I would feel that way, but saying goodbye to this country brought melancholy to my previously upbeat mood.
The thought of calling Amelia and letting her know that I was on my way to the airport came out of nowhere. After debating for a few minutes, I decided that maybe this wasn’t the appropriate time to call after last night. As she’d stated before, she was exhausted and in need of a good amount of rest. Making a friendly call would only interrupt in her day. Besides, I was almost convinced that she wouldn’t want to hear from me for quite some time. Maybe in a week’s time or two, but not immediately after what had occurred between us.
The substantial amount of truth she’d revealed would surely rankle her conscience—realizing and seeing what had transpired of her dire love of one man, her obsession and hatred developing into a string of disastrous events. She had brought down several people along the way. I could only imagine what it would be like to comprehend what had gone on in her mind, seeing the demon she had made of herself.
She was right, it was a tragedy. However, it was something that could be undone, and she could finally redeem herself again. She could be free and let go of the toxic past that had influenced and poisoned her entirety. I truly hoped that she would come out of it. I had meant what I’d said about being there for her, outcome of DNA results notwithstanding.
Just as I ended my reflection, the car parked outside the airport terminal. With a quick thank you and a hefty tip to the driver, I strode inside the cooled terminal, producing my passport and ticket.
I was paving my way towards the check-in desk when my phone started shrilling. I chose to completely ignore it as I slid the items in my hand to the smiling attendant. “Hello. To London Gatwick please.”
My phone rang again. Excusing myself before I took the call, I hunched over my back and covered one ear so I could clearly hear the call before I greeted the caller, “Hello.”
“Hola, Señor Watson?” the male voice on the other end asked.
Raising apprehension as I focused on the call, I had almost convinced myself that this was possibly a client I’d had in Marbella who had no idea that I had left Knightly Industries. “Yes, this is Toby Watson. Can I help you? I’m checking in for my flight to London, and I’m on a tight schedule.”
“Sí, I understand pero su esposa…” he started saying. “Hubu un accidente y Señora…” Your wife had an accident. The words echoed while I instantaneously felt the roaring rush of dread, leaving me hot and cold.
I didn’t even let the guy finish speaking because, the second I heard him say the hospital name, I requested my passport back before getting into a taxi, leaving the airport in a dreadful rush.
The second we got to the hospital, I took all of my euros and shoved them into the driver’s hand, uncaring of the large sum.
Stepping into the emergency room, everything became a chaotic whirl. The attendant asked me to provide proof of identity before letting me know anything about Amelia’s condition, and I was almost thankful that I’d had the wherewithal to get my passport back amidst everything. Spanish folks were quite anal about such things, and I did understand the necessity and security purposes, but since this was happening to me, I could care less about safety procedures.
After the meticulous double-checking, I was told to wait in the sitting area and someone would inform me about Amelia’s condition. So I waited with threadbare patience.
A little over five minutes later, a young looking woman announced my name as she scanned the few faces in the waiting area.
“Here,” I said, standing up, meeting her halfway before demanding, “What news of my wife? Where is she? Was the accident bad? What about the baby? Is it okay? I need to know her room number so I can go up there immediately.”
The flow of questions stunned her from speaking for a moment until she was able to take in one question at a time. With accented English, she replied, “Sir, I’m sorry to inform you, but she was confirmed dead when the medics got to her.”
Confirmed.
Dead.
Amelia…
She was fine last night. It couldn’t be. There must’ve been a misunderstanding.
“I… I—I don’t understand,” I staggered with coherency and speech, barely making sense of anything.
“I’m sorry for your loss.” Her face contorted with sorry and pity, as if she knew me, and me not being some random person with whom she had delivered a fateful message to. “We were able to save the baby, but her condition is not promising.”
At five months, the peanut I had seen yesterday hadn’t fully developed into a baby. How could something this horrific happen to an innocent thing? Let alone be delivered to the world early because the mother died before birthing.
“Can I see Amelia first then the baby?” I asked in a hollow voice, feeling helpless, and yet, in a deep catatonic sense of shock.
She nodded. “Sí, Señor. I just need to ask when she would be ready to be seen. They’re still cleaning her up after the C-section.”
“Thank you,” I barely managed to whisper as I backed onto a chair behind me, hitting my legs from behind as they immediately folded with no energy or power to hold my body up straight.
A harrowing pain conquered me, leaving me numb, distraught
and shaken. No tears were shed, however inside, I mourned the loss of her. I had been given one day to see the real woman within before she had been taken away.
Regrets and wishful thinking flooded me once more. One regret—and it’s one I doubted I could ever forgive myself for—was not making that bloody call I had debated myself over. Had I made the effort, she still might be alive. Not dead somewhere in this hospital, lifeless like the white walls everywhere around me, witnessing another normal day.
Amelia... wherever you might be, if you can hear my thoughts, I need you to know that I will take care of her, raise her into a fine young lady and love her the way she needs to be loved.
For the first time in years, I was saying a silent prayer, begging for the little peanut to survive this grievous ordeal she had been faced with from the moment she was brought into the world.
Chapter 17
Toby
Someone came to fetch me, gently giving their condolences and sympathy as the nurse ushered me into a section where two large double doors with small rectangular glass in the middle stood in a vast hallway. The kind nurse left me there, wanting to give me space to grieve and come to terms with what awaited me behind those ominous doors.
Could I do this, look at her lifeless body knowing that I most likely was one of the causes of her death?
I stood out there, feeling quite small and hopeless against something so much larger than life—death.
“Señor, are you okay? Can I get you something?” the nurse came back to check on me, probably wondering what the heck I was doing out in the hall still.
“I’m—not so sure.” My mind kept telling me to move my limbs forward, yet my body was heavy, worn down, and still in great denial about it all.
I kept closing my eyes, hoping that I would wake up from this twisted nightmare; that Amelia wasn’t dead. That she was safe in her own house, resting like she was supposed to. I hadn’t gotten the full details yet, but I had been given the idea that she was driving alone. What provoked her to do that? Ever since I had known her, I had never seen her drive anything. She always had a driver—always. So this news came as a surprise.
A shiver ran past me, a mere brush, but it jolted me to life, making me pause as I looked around before I looked at the still, silent doors calling out to me.
“You know you want to go see her. Let me help.” The nurse stood right next to me, nodding towards the doors before she looked straight into me, as if telling me that it was all right to be afraid—that it was okay to show it.
I gave her a curt nod, signaling that I was willing to let her guide me inside. Her hand held my shoulder, gently tapping it as we started to walk to the other side of the door.
I wouldn’t call myself nervous because what I was feeling was a mixture of anxiety, trepidation, being completely at a loss, bereavement, powerlessness, anger; but most of all, guilt. I had it in spades.
It wasn’t far of a walk, and in no time, we reached a swinging, dark gray door.
“I’ll stay here. You go ahead.”
Urging myself to move, I took a few slow, timid steps, stopping as I gently pushed the door, holding my breath before my arm went lifeless and let go of the door. Panting now, I stared into my hand, feeling like I was going out of my mind.
“Some believe that souls stay in our world when they weren’t ready to die… so you dedicate a simple prayer. Tell her that it’s fine to go. That you’re going to take care of the baby and she has nothing to worry about anymore. She needs to know that it’s okay so she can forgive herself for all the sins and let go of everything she hung on to. You free her… give her back to the earth.”
Unblinking, I frowned at the nurse, not sure what to make of the things she had just told me. Her light brown eyes expressed that she knew more than I did, and that, whatever token of advice she suggested, I should follow.
“We are all connected—to everything. Life. Death. Evolution.”
My frown grew deeper.
Her gaze directed behind me before reverting back to my face. “She’s waiting.”
Powering forward, I went into the room. The bright, fluorescent lights basked her body right in the middle of the room. My body felt light but heavy. Inexplicable emotions ran riot as I stepped closer to the woman I had married a little over four months ago.
She was covered in a white sheet, pale in pallor compared to her usual tan, but apart from that, she didn’t look dead. In fact, if one would just look at her face, they would think that she was sleeping. What took my breath away with alarm was her body. It had parts that were black and blue, some green with cuts around them. Her shoulders had deep lacerations—sharp and claw-like—as if she had been attacked on both sides.
Touching the tip of a strand of her silky, dark hair, I gently stroked it. “I haven’t seen her yet…” I spoke out. With the room in eerie silence and nothing to interrupt the stillness around me, my whispered voice sounded louder than it usually was. “I’m going to, after I say goodbye to you.”
I had to pause, imagining what she’d had to go through before the accident had taken her life. Had she died from bleeding? How long had it taken until help arrived? I had so many questions, yet there was one that troubled me the most.
“What happened after you left last night, Amelia? I don’t understand any of this. In a lot of ways, I have caused you pain, and I wish—I wish that I could’ve done it differently, maybe tried harder to get through to you instead of abandoning you all by yourself.
“Even if things between us weren’t normal, I should’ve done a better job in taking care of you. I’m horrible at it, aren’t I?” My voice cracked a tad at my admission.
“You’re free… from all the pain that consumed you for so long.” I bent over and kissed her cold lips for the last time, whispering, “You may rest now, tortured angel.”
Taking a deep breath, I gave her one last look before I somberly strode towards the exit.
Just when the door closed shut, only then I remembered something from last night…
Until we meet again, Toby Watson.
Why hadn’t I noticed that? Amelia never spoke to me that way when leaving in rage, she… No! My thoughts screeched to a halt the moment I realized where they were going. The horror sunk further into me.
At one point last night, I had almost been convinced that she was getting better….
But she’d proven me wrong.
Chapter 18
Toby
Yes, I had most certainly been proven wrong in thinking that saying my private, final goodbye to Amelia was the toughest thing I had ever done. Tough barely grasped what I tried to conjure in my head and the actuality of what and how it was going to be. I had an idea, but nothing came close, not a bloody thing.
Because the instant the glass doors in the neonatal intensive care unit of the hospital welcomed me in, the very moment where I stepped in to the stillness of the room with no sound other than the peeping noise of the machine and that tiny, domed glass sitting right in the middle of the room with lights above it that were directed at one particular thing.
The thing—my thing—was fighting for her life to survive. Her right for life.
I felt like someone had punched me in the gut, chewed my heart out and spat it back out, poured gasoline on it and took a torch to alight it on fire.
My knees wobbled as I grew nearer, never taking my eyes off the tiny kiss of life.
Someone came from the side, appearing out of nowhere as she started to progress forward with a friendly smile. “Mr. Watson, I’m Dr. Letty Barrera.”
Barely nodding, my eyes diverted back to the baby. “How is she doing?”
Her face crumpled. “She’s… hanging in there. Her weight is consistent with her growth, weighing around ten ounces.”
Ten ounces? Fuck.
“We need you to sign some papers regarding her blood work. We need to see how her liver is functioning and how her other organs are doing. Her oxygen intake—it will basically tell
us what we need to know.”
“I’ll sign them right now,” I rasped out before signing the papers that she gave me.
She was writing something on her chart, speaking to me at the same time. “The nurses will be checking in every thirty minutes. I will be back again to check on her in an hour. The blood results won’t be in until tomorrow morning. If you need anything—let us know straight away; we’ll try to accommodate it the best we can.”
“All right.”
“Mr. Watson?” she called out before walking out.
“Yes?” I turned around to face her.
She hesitated a moment before opening her mouth to speak. “My work deals with facts, and every now and then, we get miracles. Your baby’s at twenty-one weeks. The survivability ratio is less than three to five percent. Some would argue and say zero, but I believe in trying.” She was practically telling me not to get my hopes up in the kindest possible way, though she was also reassuring me that she wouldn’t give up until there was nothing left to be done.
“I appreciate that a lot. Thanks for believing.”
A half smile and a second later, she went out the door. She exited as quietly as possible, leaving me alone with the baby for the first time.
It only took a few little steps, and I was right there next to her. She looked so tiny… so fragile. She was red-pinkish, her skin appeared to be shiny, as if it was made of plastic, and was practically wrapped around her bones with no fat at all. Tiny hands with miniscule fingernails. Cute button nose. Her eyes were covered with linen-like patches. Tubes covered her mouth, helping her lung function and the others in her body were for feeding and to monitor her stability.
“Don’t give up on me yet, princess,” I whispered into the room, silently vowing to do whatever possible to keep her alive.
Making special arrangements for the baby to be moved into a different room across the hall that had a private sitting area wasn’t a hardship. It served both the baby and I better because I could be right next to her. And with the sitting room adjacent, it was convenient for me without having the need to find a hotel room to sleep for the night. In the eventuality that something was to happen, she could be immediately well taken care of by the nurses that were stationed right outside so that at least eased some of my worries.
