My own cry.
How am I going to tell her when she wakes up? How am I going to look at her and tell her she’ll never see her sister again? How do I tell her that we all did all that we could to save her, to get her to breathe again? What words do I choose to tell her that the weight of the water was too much for her, and that her heart stopped, while hers will continue to beat wildly?
The only thing I can seem to hold onto is the thought that I could have done more; if I had done more to save her life, then we wouldn’t be in this brightly lit hospital room where I can smell the death wafting through the hallways. We should not have to say goodbye like this.
She has her hand over mine, trying to calm my numb and un-inflatable heart. It isn’t working, and it won’t. I’ve dealt with loss before, but this . . . this anguish is all consuming. My feet feel like cinderblocks, and I haven’t been able to move my arms because they weigh as much, if not more, than the inconceivable weight of the water which held her down. The indescribable agony she felt, that I felt. I lost count of how many breaths I took that she couldn’t. I don’t remember pulling her out or breathing the frigid air of what I could into her lips. My eyes close, and all I can see is her frigid blue lips on her soft face. Those lips that I’d kill for sealed shut with her last breath.
I’m brought back into the current moment when Lana releases my hand to take the cup of ice water from Coen. I don’t bother lifting my head when he hands me mine. I can still hear the faint beeping of the machine, telling me just how much I failed.
I’m certain I won’t be able to take her suffering. I won’t be able to help. This is beyond our control, and I feel like death. The room is quiet, and I look up at her lifeless body and over at Brannon. He’s just as inconsolable as I am. Dillen had to be sedated to numb her pain and devastation, and I wish nothing more than to join her.
I’d do anything to bring her back.
I had to be the one to identify her body.
The others couldn’t do it for me. I needed to be the one. I wasn’t strong enough to help her . . . to help them all, so I punished myself.
Our lives are broken.
Our family is no longer whole.
Our entire lives were ahead of us, and now I can’t see past the dark, all-consuming water that stole her away. How can I get past this tragedy?
One by one, they leave: first Lana and then Coen. It’s just Brannon and I. We look at each other, both knowing that our lives will never be the same, forever changed. A dark, malevolent cloud will hang over us until it is our time to go.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t save her.” My voice cracks, and I lose it.
We both do.
Both of us lose it for the women in our lives. The two sisters that meant so much to us, that meant so much to each other.
Nothing will ever be the same again. It will take all I have to call my parents, to tell them of this deplorable news. They will want to pay their respects to her; I know she was important to them, and they will want to be there for me as well . . . to be there for all of us . . . to be there when they bury her.
I look down toward my feet, hoping that when I look up again, none of this will be in front of me. That the machine that is breathing for her, keeping her alive, isn’t really there, but the sound is excruciatingly loud. I swallow the crippling guilt before I open my fist to reveal Heather’s engagement ring to my red, swollen eyes. The pear shape is pressed into my palm, a painful reminder of a fraction of the pain she must have felt hours ago. When I turn the ring over, it catches the fluorescent lighting, making it sparkle like it never has before.
I’m revolted that it can still shine while her light is out.
I do not know what the time is, let alone where I am. I have yet to grasp hold of this unfathomable dark nightmare that I’m engulfed in. Scenes from the accident and every excruciating hour since have been on replay in my head. I will continue to punish myself with these scenes, these memories as I sit in this over-sanitized, fluorescently lit hospital room. I did not get to see her last free breath through those ice-blue lips, because I was unable to push myself further to save her. It’s because of me that she lost her last breath, that she expired.
I’ve been in this position before, but this is exponentially worse. Maybe that moment in time prepared me for what I need to do now. I have to look her in the eye and give her the worst news possible. I have to tell Heather that her sister has passed on, and she’s now with her parents once again. That I’m all she has left.
This is the second time in my life that I’ve dealt with death. I’ve gone thirty years without being close to someone who has passed. The first . . . was my child. My unborn baby perished before I even knew about its existence. And now, Danielle.
My future sister-in-law.
How do I find the right words this time around? Brannon left Heather’s bedside about ten minutes ago, leaving me on my own with my fiancée. I can still smell the water from the river on my clothing; the damp musty smell hasn’t allowed me to fully breathe since my body hit the dark waters.
I can’t describe the pain I felt when I thought I had lost her, when her body lay cold against the muddy, rocky riverbank. I struggled to stand, and all I could hear were screams as the bile rose in my throat. Now, moments from now . . . I’ll hear it again, when I tell the woman I love that her last and only relative is gone.
“Noah.”
I glance up to the head of the bed where Heather’s eyes are open and peering at me questioningly. She’s lifted the oxygen mask up and off of herself. I get up and move the two feet closer to her. I’m emotionally fatigued, and I know it’s just going to get worse.
“Leave that on, sweetheart,” I manage as I take her hand in mine, running my thumb over her cold fingers to soothe her anxiety. She tries to sit up as she looks at me with confusion and panic.
“Noah? Dani . . . Dillen . . . Lana? Are they okay?”
I let out a deep, unsteady breath and look away from her as I speak. “Lana and Dillen got out unscathed, but Dill is sedated in the room next to this one right now.”
I watch as her eyes flicker through my words. They dart from side to side, going over what I said. She sits up and a hopeful plea escapes her lips. “Dani? What about Dani? Is she hurt? Did she have her seatbelt on?”
My heart shatters when the tears stream down her cheeks. I run my tongue over my teeth to fight the emotions that are in turmoil as her eyes beg for me to answer her. I bring her fingers to my lips and shake my head. The tears I’ve been fighting off for hours now emerge and line my eyes. “I’m sorry.”
Her eyebrows knit together in confusion before she sits up straight with great effort. “Where is she, Noah?” Her voice is shaky yet demanding. I can hear the hope and pain in her voice all at once.
“Heather. Sh-she’s no longer with us.” I force myself to kiss her fingers, to try and soothe this in any way I can, but I won’t be able to stop the reaction, depression, and hurt that will ensue now. She rips her hand away from mine, and it stings like a slap to the face.
“No! Don’t say that, Noah. Tell me the truth.”
The tears steadily fall down her cheeks as her chest heaves, and she starts to hyperventilate. I don’t have any more words for her, only sadness in my eyes as I stand and lean over to her. I wrap my arms around her shoulders and hold her to me as she struggles to break free from my grip. The screams that I knew I’d hear are ringing loudly in my ears. She’s fighting me, kicking her legs furiously and smacking me repeatedly.
“No, no! Please, no. Not my Dani! Please?” She screams a bloodcurdling wail, and I struggle to hold her in my arms as she fights me.
I don’t try to fight her movements. I hold her against my chest as she struggles wildly. “I’m so sorry, baby. I tried all I could to get all of you out before . . .”
I can’t finish that sentence.
Although I have her safe in my arms, I can still see her in the dark water as her hair floated around
her. I would not be able to live without this woman; I don’t know how Brannon is.
She’s heaving in my arms, and my grip tightens to hold her. She screams her sister’s name over and over again, and I know I won’t be able to calm her with just my touch. She’s beyond that now.
“Shh, sweetheart, I’m here.” I hold her head tight against my chest and feel the tremors rack her tiny frame.
“Noah! No!” She smacks my chest once before she simply cannot scream anymore as her emotions and tears nearly choke her.
“I know, baby, I know.” I kiss the top of her head and listen to the powerful sobs that fill the room.
“Are you sure?” she glances up at me, begging me for this not to be true in a voice that is drowning in emotion.
I briefly close my eyes to escape that painful look staring back at me. I nod once and open my eyes to see her face crumple in pain before she loses it once more.
I move to sit on the bed and shift her into my lap to ensconce her in my warmth. “I know that nothing I say right now will take this pain away, but I love you, Heather.”
She doesn’t respond to my words, and I’m not sure if she even heard me over her own screams, but it’s all I can do right now.
We haven’t moved in over an hour. I can’t tell if my ballerina has fallen asleep, or if she’s decided to stay mute.
Heather’s nurse has come in to check on her more than three times now, but she won’t budge. I watch as the nurse locks eyes with me, and I see sadness in hers as well. She knows the situation. She knows my ballerina lost her only sister.
I press my lips to the top of her head as the nurse walks up to us. “Miss Lane? I just need to check your vitals, and I’ll be on my way.”
She’s unmoving, and the nurse pleads at me with her eyes. I gently move her away from my chest and lay her back against the bed as it sits upright. The look that is on her face terrifies me and will haunt me until the day I die. She’s staring off into the distance and looks catatonic. There’s no life behind those eyes anymore. It looks almost as if I’m once again staring into Dani’s empty eyes as she lay dead on the cold rocks.
I move to the other side of the bed so the nurse can get to Heather, but I don’t stop touching her as the nurse wraps the blood pressure cuff around her bicep. “I’m not going anywhere, Heather.”
I have to look away because her eyes are black and soulless, unlike Heather’s.
The nurse takes her time checking Heather over. I don’t think she wants to disturb her in any way.
“Mr. Ryan, I’m going to send the doctor in soon, but her vitals seem to be back to normal. In my opinion, you should be able to take her home within the hour. Miss Ascher is being woken up as we speak, with the other two in the room with her.”
I nod and look back at my girl, reaching over to move a stray hair from her face. She doesn’t budge an inch or even blink. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, baby? To go home?” I ask her and try to get anything out of her. I can’t even imagine what she’s thinking right now.
She stays mute. Unmoving.
“Thank you,” I say to the nurse as she gathers her things and walks out of the room.
I look at my left hand, which is still fisted around her engagement ring. I open my fist; my knuckles feel raw and strained.
“Sweetheart? Would you like to put your ring back on?”
I rub her ring finger with my thumb and slip her ring on for a second time. It shines like never before, but her light is still out.
She moves toward me, and I think it’s my cue to take her back into my arms. Before I can sit down on the hospital bed, she’s trying to move onto my lap and curl up in my chest. I get up and onto the bed and make sure she’s physically comfortable, because I know the thoughts running through her head are anything but comforting.
“Why?” Is all that comes out of her mouth.
And fuck me, I could never give her a proper answer.
“I don’t know, sweetheart, it was just her time.”
I know that comforting her won’t take the pain away and that it will just cushion it, but I don’t have another choice. Holding her is all I can do for her right now. This grief that she’s feeling will only intensify, and I’ll be ready to provide the comfort that she needs to get her through it.
She starts to cry again, but this time it’s soft and full of mourning. The full depth of what’s happened has sunk in, and she’s embracing it all. I look up when I hear the door open, and I lock eyes with Coen. He looks tired and weakened by the events of today. He sees Heather crying in my arms and doesn’t say a word; he just walks over to where we sit on the bed and wraps his arms around her as well. I’ve loved him like a brother, but right now he just solidified that status. He’s comforting his sister. My girl.
Her hand fists my shirt, and I know she needs to feel loved and wanted, and we’re giving as much of it to her as we can. I watch as she moves her hand from my shirt to Coen’s hand.
“I’m here, sis. I always will be.”
I close my eyes and choke back my feelings. Fuck, these two are going to kill me.
There’s a knock on the door and the doctor walks in, his voice resonating throughout the room. “My apologies. Do you mind if I come in and take a look?”
“Come on in, doc, and tell me I can take my sister home.”
Coen and I move out of the way and watch as he looks Heather over. He seems to be pleased with her recovery because he nods to himself and then checks her monitors.
“According to her vital checks, I believe she will be just fine to travel back to the lodge tonight. I do suggest that you take a day or two off before traveling home. Mr. Ryan, you told me that she doesn’t fly, and I believe driving down to New York City right now wouldn’t be a good idea. I’d like to ensure she does not have any effects from the accident.”
“Okay, great,” I nod and reply, but everything about this is anything but great. “Is there anything that she can take for pain? Anything I need to watch out for?” I ask and he pulls me over to the side.
He starts going over a few things to be on the lookout for regarding depression and suicidal thoughts. I listen carefully and watch as Coen moves to Heather’s side, crouching close to her. She leans against him, and I’m grateful that he’s here, supporting her and myself. I know that he’s trying to avert her attention while we talk. My hand moves to my jaw, and I rub it as I listen to what he’s telling me.
Suicide?
She might try to kill herself? Not on my fucking watch.
He stops talking, and we both look at Heather when she asks in a tortured cry, “Did she suffer?”
I look over at him for his answer and watch as his lips thin. He shakes his head and talks to Heather gently. “No, she didn’t. The coroner is not yet finished with his report, but from what I’ve been told, she did not have any water in her lungs. It looks as if she passed immediately as a result of the collision.”
Heather doesn’t respond to him; instead she turns back to Coen and buries her face in his shirt, muffling her sobs.
“I want to go home, and I want my sister back.”
My stomach knots at her heartache, and Coen looks up at me with just as much anguish. He’s at a loss for words. We all are. I have to stop the fresh sting of tears that threaten to give many of my emotions away.
Her doctor tells me that she’s all set to go as soon as she’s ready. I thank him before he exits, and I walk over to Heather and Coen.
“Baby? Let’s get you dressed into something warmer than this gown. We can go back to the lodge now.”
I watch as her petite frame trembles against Coen. We both stare at each other, both of us unsure of what to do for her. She doesn’t respond to me; she just cries. Coen shakes his head minutely before trying. “Sis? Brannon is just down the hall waiting for you.”
Her head snaps up, and she gasps before covering her mouth. “Oh Brannon. How is he? I need to see him.”
I nod in agreement and help he
r move off the bed as she tries to get up. “He’s having a hard time too, sweetheart.”
Coen moves back toward the door. “I’ll go gather the crew while you help her get changed, bro.”
“We’ll see you in the lobby.”
“I’ll see you in a few, sis.”
He gets a faint smile from her that isn’t truly hers as he walks out of the room.
I walk over to the pile of clothes that Lana bought for the both of us.
“I’m sorry that I’m a mess, Noah.”
I turn to her with a pink ‘I heart Canada’ t-shirt in my hand. “You have nothing in this world to be sorry for. Don’t ever apologize for mourning.”
She sniffles and pulls the blue gown over her head, leaving her naked and shuddering.
“If this was easy, then that love you had for each other wouldn’t have been true. The reason why this is going to be difficult is because of the bond you shared with her. I cannot replace that, and I doubt anyone will ever be able to in your lifetime. Everyone grieves in their own way, and I’m going to be by your side through it all. Please don’t push me away when you need me.”
The salty tears are back, and they steadily move down her cheeks to her jawline and then drop onto her exposed breasts as she nods in agreement.
Heather refused to be rolled out in a wheelchair to the rental SUV; instead, we’re walking down the hallway of the Banff—Mineral Springs Hospital’s emergency room. My arm is locked tightly around her as we round the corner, where we see Brannon staring in our direction while the other three stand next to him, trying to console him in any way possible. When he moves toward Heather, the others take a step back, and Coen signals toward me, informing me that they are going to be waiting in the SUV.
“Heather.”
“Oh Brannon.”
She walks out of my arms and straight into Brannon’s brotherly grasp. He hugs her tightly. “I’m so sorry, Heather.”
“I’m sorry too.”
A Winter's Date Page 37
