Until My Heart Stops Beating

by Tonya M Barber

He inhaled holding his head to the side as he ogled her.

  “Everything you have to offer, from the liquid on that spoon to the lady holding it.”

  “Hmm, patience sir. I am the dessert."

  Slowly he approached her.

  “I say we skip right to the dessert,” he replied as he covered her mouth with his, kissing her with an ardent passion that almost took her breath away.

  She dropped the spoon as her knees weakened from the kiss that sent an electrical current shooting through her body. She moaned as his hand roamed every inch of her body, stopping only to begin unbuttoning her blouse. With a sudden desire to resist, she pushed him away as she backed up against the stove.

  “Wait a minute,” she managed to say through bated breaths. Just then she realized there was heat from steam rising from the pots still cooking on the stove. Without a word Declan pressed his body against hers as he reached behind her turning off the stove. She was immobile, hypnotized by the hazel browns staring at her in such a way that it looked like he could see into the deepest part of her soul.

  “I-made- your- favorite- for- your- birthday-“

  He covered her mouth cutting off her words as he parted her lips with his tongue, exploring every inch of her mouth. Her heart raced and her breaths quickened from the strong hands roaming over all over her body. Unable to resist reciprocating the pleasure she was receiving, she slowly and sensually kissed him, occasionally sucking on his bottom lip while running her fingers through his hair. Her hands trailed down the sides of his face to his chest ripping open the shirt that separated her from his bare skin. He inhaled at the softness of her hands which was like soft cotton being brushed over his skin. The reaction of their bodies to each other’s was like two beasts in the wild on a feeding frenzy. The more they received from one another the more they wanted. The need to be satisfied intensified with every touch. Finding the willpower to control his aching desire, Declan took a few steps back ogling and admiring her as is if she was an authentic Picasso. She began to walk away with the intention of leading him to the bedroom but she didn’t get too far. Quickly, he grabbed her arm swinging her around and gently backing her up against the counter. With bated breath and a body engulfed in flames, she anxiously waited in anticipation for his next move.

  Declan ambled toward her, gingerly moving his hands across her stomach, then moving upward allowing his fingertips to push away her bra exposing her breasts. Her body jolted the moment he began to massage them. Gripping the edge of the counter, her head fell backwards as he took one into his mouth. Feeling restricted, he removed her blouse totally and unsnapped her bra throwing it to the floor. Pressing his body against hers, he kissed her long and hard. Suddenly, pulling away, she grabbed his hand and began pulling him toward the door. Feeling his resistance, she turned around to face him.

  “No honey. Right here. Right now.”

  She couldn’t believe he was going to take her, all of her on the floor in the kitchen but if that’s where he wanted it all to go down, she was willing to oblige him. Besides, she was too hot, too aroused, and too needy to protest. His spontaneity was what she loved most about him anyway. It didn’t take long for him to remove all of her clothing, then guide her body down to the floor. Soon after, his clothing mingled with hers in a pile next to them. Very delicately, he began to kiss and lick her all over like she was two scoops of butter pecan ice cream on a sugar cone. This was all the birthday present he needed and desired. She was the gift that kept on giving and no matter how much she gave, he wanted more and got it, all of it in the only place in the house they had not made love; the kitchen. The passion between them was so intense all she could do was cry from pure ecstasy.

  About an hour later, after showering and changing into more comfortable attire, Makeba resumed cooking her meal. They ate under candlelight while listening to music by Dave Koz. At the conclusion of their dinner, Makeba cleared the table of the soiled dishes and placed them in the sink. Declan, excused himself and went to answer the call of nature. His brief absence gave her just enough time to grab a dish from the cabinet and lay it on the placemat where Declan was sitting. Quietly, she put the surprise on the plate then returned to her seat fighting to stifle a giggle.

  Shortly afterwards, Declan returned staring inquisitively at the instrument that was lying on his dish. Picking it up, he scrutinized it as he took his seat. Glancing across the table at Makeba, then at the object in his hand, and back at her searching for confirmation for what he was thinking. He knew exactly what the gadget was, he just needed to be sure what it meant. With the object still in his hand, he looked across the table at her once more through inquiring eyes. Smiling while nodding her head was confirmation of his suspicions. Excitedly, he jumped up startling her. He rushed beside her pulling her up from her seat and began planting soft kisses all over her face.

  “Happy Birthday,” she whispered in between his soft kisses.

  “We’re pregnant,” he said hugging her tight, “we’re having a baby.”

  “Yes we are,” she replied nodding her head vigorously.

  “This couldn’t have been a better birthday gift. Thank you honey.”

  Chuckling she replied, “You’re welcome.”

  “How far along?”

  “About eight weeks. I’ve been aware for about a week and a half but I wanted to wait until this precise moment to tell you.”

  A wide smile spread across his lips as he hugged her again.

  “You have made me the happiest man in the world. Since the moment I laid eyes on you, life just keeps getting better.”

  Tears began to form in the corners of her eyes. As always, he touched her with his words causing her to become overwhelmed with emotion.

  “I grow more and more in love with you every day my dear husband.”

  Shaking his head as his eyes began to water he said, “I love you my beautiful butterfly and I always will, until my heart stops beating.

  Reminiscing about the previous night brought tears to his eyes. Suddenly he felt a sense of loneliness. Yes, he told her he’d stay at the apartment until morning due to the storm but he was missing her already something terrible. Staring at the phone, he wondered if he should call and inform her that he had a change of heart and was coming home. No, that wouldn’t be a good idea. All she’d do is try to persuade him to change his mind.

  Turning on his heels, he approached his desk, powered down his computer, grabbed his cell phone and briefcase and headed for the closet to retrieve his Trench-coat. After turning off the lights he left the office closing the door behind him then continued to stroll down the corridor. Standing in front of the elevator just outside his office, he knew what he was thinking was risky. He also knew that he would never hear the end of it when he got home. The weather was really bad and the fact that his wife suggested he stay the night away from her was an indication just how terrible things were outside but he didn’t care. He was a man known to take risks. How else could he have been such a successful businessman? There was nothing to fear. Listening to Makeba had put him in panic mode. Living in Chicago all his life, he survived some of the worst winters in all the fifty states. It’s not like he hadn’t traveled through torrential winds and downpours before. He was sure he was experienced enough to make it home without incident. He sure as hell hoped so because his mind was made up. He was going home; rain, sleet or snow.

  The doors opened. He stepped on the elevator exiting on the lobby level. There was no one in the building except for the security officer posted at the lobby desk. All other employees were allowed to leave early due to the inclement weather, a move he should have made himself a few hours ago.

  “Goodnight Max,” he said walking by the desk.

  “Mr. Whitaker, I thought you were gone already,” he frowned. “Are you sure you want to go out in that. It’s a mess out there.”

  Declan stopped suddenly, placed his briefcase on the floor and put on his coat. “I’ll be fine Max. I’m sure it’s not as bad as
it looks. You know how often meteorologists get it wrong.”

  Max sat behind the desk. “Well, if you insist be cautious. You know even in weather like this there will be some nut out there driving like he’s on dry pavement.”

  “Yea, I know,” he said as he picked up his briefcase and adjusted the collar on his coat. “Stay warm Max.”

  “I’ll try Mr. Whitaker. Get home safe.”

  “I will,” Declan replied exiting through the revolving doors.

  ~*~

  After sitting in traffic for what seemed like forever, Declan was elated when it began to move. He heard his cell phone ringing just as he pulled off but decided it would be better to ignore it under these conditions. It was important for him to stay focused. The roads were as bad as everyone said they were. Since he’d been on the expressway, he had seen three accidents and slid on black ice himself a couple of times. A quarter of a mile down the expressway, an SUV traveling at regular speed while trying to change lanes, swerved. It was apparent the driver had lost control of the vehicle. Everything had happened so fast there wasn’t time to get out of the way. The SUV slammed into his vehicle sending it careening into the guardrail. Airbags deployed, smoke seeped from the hood, and shards of glass from the shattered windshield hit him in the face. Barely able to breath from his chest hitting the steering wheel, he opened his eyes looking up but couldn’t see a thing. Everything was blurry. He thought he had heard his cellphone again but he was too hurt to move. He could hear voices in the distance asking if he was ok. Sadly, he was unable to respond. Suddenly, the voices faded and everything went dark.

  ~*~

  Makeba was happy Declan agreed to take her advice and stay at the office building. This was one time she was elated about having an executive apartment. Realizing how difficult it would be for her to sleep without him lying next to her, she went into the kitchen and fixed herself a cup of chamomile tea with lemon and honey. Afterwards, she returned to the living room, sat on the sofa and began watching Steel Magnolias, one of her favorite movies. While taking a sip from her cup, she thought about the previous night and Declan’s reaction to her pregnancy surprise. As she lowered the cup onto the coffee table, a smile spread across her lips. She was happy as well but it was not without reservations. She was worried about going through this again. Although the doctor assured her that very rarely does miscarriage happen after the first time especially if the mother is in optimum health, she still couldn’t shake the fear of it happening again.

  Shaking off those negative thoughts, she reached for her mug and brought it to her lips. As she took a sip, she glanced at the watch on her wrist. To her estimation, Declan should have been settled in by now. She frowned, wondering why he hadn’t called as of yet. Scooting to the edge of the sofa, she reached for her cellphone that was on the end table to the right of her. She called Declan. Strangely, there was no answer. Assuming he was still working at the office, she called there. Again, there was no answer. Her heart began to pound rapidly against her chest. Suddenly, she remembered the lobby desk contact number. She called inquiring whether her husband had been seen. When she was told by the security officer that he had left more than two hours ago, she shrieked at his response and lost her grip on the phone, it fell to the floor. A few seconds later she reached down to pick it up. A thousand thoughts were running through her mind. Perhaps, he was just going to the local market or something. No need to panic. He agreed to stay. He’ll call, she thought. These were the words she was telling herself but it did nothing to soothe the anxiety she was experiencing.

  Pushing herself back against the sofa, she sighed deeply and closed her eyes. She was sure there was a logical explanation for why he wasn’t answering his phone and why he had left the building.

  The ringing of her cellphone startled her. Her heart was beating so fast, she thought it would burst in her chest. Taking a deep breath then exhaling slowly, she answered the phone. Closing her eyes in fear at the sound of the voice on the other end of the line. It wasn’t who she wanted it to be and from the sound of his voice she was positive what he had to say would not be good news. Bracing herself for what was to come she answered.

  “Hello Sam.”

  Picking up the nervousness in her voice, he hesitated a bit before revealing the purpose of his call.

  “Ahem!” he cleared his throat. “Makeba.”

  Her stomach knotted from the way he said her name. It was laced in sadness.

  Without her volition her voice cracked. “Why are you calling me Sam,” she asked as steady tears began to roll down her cheeks.

  It wasn’t uncommon for her to receive a call from her brother-in-law but in her gut she knew before even answering the phone it wasn’t going to be a social call.

  “Makeba, Declan has been in an accident.”

  She gasped as she covered her mouth with her hand in an attempt to stifle the screams she wanted so badly to release. With every bit of strength she had in her, she managed to regain her composure. Wiping the tears from her eyes she asked, “How bad?”

  “I don’t know yet. Granny and I are on our way to the hospital now. Mother is already there. Shyanne will be there to pick you up in a few.”

  “Oh God! Oh God!” she cried out.

  “Makeba! Makeba!”

  She heard him call her name but she was too distraught to answer.

  She ended the call without so much as a goodbye. She didn’t have time for proper phone etiquette. Quickly, she ran to the bedroom snatching a pair of jeans and a sweater from the drawer and put them on. Sliding her feet inside her snow boots, she felt herself on the verge of a breakdown but fought against it. Instead, she silently prayed that her husband would be alright.

  She ran to the living room the moment she heard her phone again. Without looking at the screen, she answered it.

  “Hello.”

  “I’m outside."

  Shyanne had the same sadness laced to her words as Sam had not long ago. She could tell Shyanne had been crying too.

  “I’ll be right out,” she replied then ended the call.

  She got her coat from the closet, her keys off the rack and her purse off the table in the foyer and hurried out the door, hoping things wasn’t as bad as she imagined them to be.

  Upon their arrival, Makeba and Shyanne rushed to the nurse’s station seeking information about his location. The nurse directed them to the waiting area and assured them that the doctor taking care of Declan would be there to speak with them shortly. They noticed Sam and Shelly sitting next to one another when they entered the waiting room. Immediately they rushed to the area where they were seated.

  “How is he?” Makeba asked looking through eyes filled with worry.

  Sam hugged her. “We don’t know just yet. The doctors have said very little. They were waiting to speak with you. Have a seat. I’ll alert them that you’re here.”

  Thank you Sam,” she replied as she took a seat.

  She glanced over at Shelly and nodded her head as her and Shyanne took their seats. Instead of a warm greeting, Shelly rolled her eyes and turned away from her but she didn’t care. She didn’t have the time nor the energy to deal with her mother-in-law and her nonsense.

  Shyanne noticed the exchange between her mother and Makeba and didn’t like it one bit. She got up moved to sit closer to her mother. From the sound of things, Shyanne was chastising her in reference to her behavior. A few minutes later granny wheeled into the waiting room accompanied by Deena. There was no need to ponder why she was there. The answer was obvious. Shelly had only brought her to get under Makeba’s skin. As furious as she was, this was neither the time nor the place to address the issue. Her thoughts were on her husband and that’s where they were going to stay. Granny wheeled her chair over to Makeba and reached for her hands.

  “How are you holding up dear?”

  “I’ll do a lot better when I find out how he’s doing.”

  “He’ll be fine. No worries,” she replied, rubbing the backs o
f Makeba’s hands.

  Releasing her grip from granny’s hand, Makeba rose to her feet when she observed Sam’s return but he wasn’t alone. He was with two doctors who were walking towards her. There was a desire to meet them halfway but for some reason she couldn’t. Her legs felt like they weighed a ton and refused to move on command. Her heart began to palpitate and perspiration welled within her hands. In an effort to dry them, she wiped them on her jeans.

  “Hello, I’m Doctor Mathers, the neurologist caring for your husband.”

  He was about six feet two inches tall with short black curly hair and blue eyes. He was young and handsome, a little too young to be a doctor according to her. Even so, there he was standing in front of her with an extended hand.

  “Hello Doctor Mathers,” she replied as she shook his hand.

  “And I’m Doctor Spencer, the resident.”

  She glanced at him. He also looked a little young but age didn’t matter to her. What mattered was how her husband was doing.

  “Pleased to meet you both,” she replied.

  “Mrs. Whitaker, your husband suffered a traumatic head injury causing some damage to his hippocampus,” said Dr. Mathers.

  She eyed him inquisitively.

  “Hippocampus?”

  “The hippocampus is located in the frontal lobes of the brain. It is associated with memory. We each have two. If one is injured, you can still have normal memory function. If both are, then it can cause some memory loss.”

  By this time everyone had congregated around them to hear what the doctors had to say about Declan’s condition.

  “Here’s the thing with your husband. X-rays show there’s some blood on the brain and both of his hippocampus’ are damaged.”

  Instantly the tears started to fall. Sam grabbed her hand to comfort her. Granny moaned as Shyanne rushed to her side and began to rub her back and Shelly held onto to Deena.

  “Right now we’re contemplating whether we want to go in to drain the blood but we don’t want to be too hasty. In most cases the blood tends to dissipate on its own over time. There is some swelling as well. We’ll know more and how we want to proceed after another round of x-rays. As for the hippocampus, since both are damaged we suspect that when and if he awakens there will be some memory loss, but to what extent we won't know until he wakes up.”