The Cowboy's City Girl - An Enemies To Lovers Romance

by Emerson Rose

  I know his nurses will be pissed, but I don’t give a shit. I slip in next to him careful to avoid the monitors and the ventilator.

  When I’m next to him, I pull his hospital gown up on the side and open my sheet. I unbutton my shirt and press against his skin. Sliding my hand across his abdomen slowly, I inhale his warm masculine scent. I never want to be without this, his warm skin, his unique smell, his heart beating under my cheek.

  My nightmare was so real and so detailed it’s hard to believe it was only a dream. I know how unbearable it would be to lose my husband. That damn dream haunts me over and over, each time becoming more realistic.

  If I could have anything I wanted in the world, one wish, it would be for Marcus to wake up and resume being the man I love.

  But if he doesn’t, I will accept his unconsciousness over the alternative a million times over. As long as he’s here, and I can still see him, touch him, talk to him, I’ll survive.

  I lie and listen to the soft hum of the ventilator and the beeping of his heartbeat on the monitors and fantasize about what might happen if Marcus woke up.

  He would have surgery and without that tumor in his brain he would be my Marcus forever. We would have a real wedding with a long luxurious honeymoon on an island. Then we would go home to Seattle where I could work part-time in the ICU and spoil my husband. I would love my kitties, have a big family get-together and set Elijah up with Lana. I’m not one hundred percent sure about that, but maybe.

  I’m drifting off with visions of a miniature Marcus and baby strollers when a nurse walks in and stops abruptly at the edge of the bed.

  Fully awake now I look across at her and wait for a disapproving look, but it never comes. Her big brown eyes are full of understanding when she smiles. It’s a small one but it’s there. I have found my favorite Italian nurse.

  A lot can be said with a look or the lack thereof and this woman understands my needs, her eyes speak to me.

  I return the sentiment with a small smile and a silent relationship is born. Her name badge says Ladonna. I tuck that away in my memory as my eyelids begin to close. Before I fall to sleep again I softly thank her using one of the few, but important words in Italian that I have learned.

  “Grazie, Ladonna.” She quietly changes his IV bag and when I hear the soft click of the door closing I relax and enjoy being close to my husband.

  Two hours later on the brink of waking, I slide my bare leg between Marcus’s and softly moan. I run my fingers along the top of his boxers before I remember where we are.

  I stop but I’ve gone far enough to know that one of my favorite parts of my husband is functioning this morning. I wonder what’s going on in that mind of his? It better be me that he’s thinking about. I lay my hand over his erection and tilt my face up to his.

  “Good morning, husband. Do you feel me? Come back to me, I miss you.” I move my hand away and prop up on one elbow next to him. “You know we’ve been here too long. We need to go home, not our home here in Italy but home to Seattle. I miss my family, and it’s Christmas tomorrow. Are you going to keep messing around in this coma and make me miss the holiday with my family?”

  I’m answered with silence as usual. I drop my chin to my chest and sigh. I’m not a quitter. I keep up my one-sided chitchat to keep him from becoming static. His brain needs stimulation so why not give him a little dose of guilt every day?

  I also make sure to he gets a strict talking to about wasting our time, but so far, it’s not working. I button up my shirt and slip out of his bed. Leaning over I kiss him softly on the cheek. I want to kiss his lips, but the ventilator is holding them hostage.

  I dress and pull my messy tangled hair into a knot at the back of my neck before I tend to Marcus. I position him slightly on his side and brush his hair away from his face. He needs a haircut. That’s first on a long list of things to do when he wakes up. Yesterday I gave him a full bed bath so today I wash his face and change his hospital gown.

  Christmas is tomorrow and I plan on spending the morning making him look like his normal, beautiful groomed self for the holiday. If Ladonna is working I’m going to ask her if I can dress him in his own clothes, just for the day. Thank God for my translating app.

  When I’m done cleaning him up I pull out my I Pad and choose a playlist I know he loves and turn it on. Jocelyn Pook’s raspy beautiful voice fills the room singing a classical rendition of Romeo and Juliet.

  I’ll have breakfast while we listen and then I’ll look up the news online and read to him about what’s happening in the world.

  After that, I give him a break and do some of my own reading. I eat lunch and have some more one-sided chatting. Elena and Enrique visit every afternoon. Elijah comes occasionally, and Mr. Black and Maria stop in to see him as well.

  This has become our daily routine for the past ten days, eight hours, and twenty minutes. I get lonely talking to myself but after last night’s dream, I know it could be so much worse.

  “Knock, knock.”

  “Oh hey, Elena, you’re early today.” I twist in my chair and see her standing on the threshold of Marcus’s room. Her arms are loaded with gifts. “What’s all this?”

  “Oh, you know, I did a little shopping. It’s Christmas tomorrow. If you left the hospital for ten minutes, you’d know that, or if you watched the news.” She huffs and rolls her eyes.

  “I can’t leave him, and I read the news to Marcus every day. I know it’s Christmas, it just doesn’t feel right celebrating. When Marcus wakes up, we can have a big holiday dinner with a tree and my family…,” I let my thought trail off when I see the pity on her face.

  I know what she’s thinking, and she knows she better not ever say it out loud in front of me. Marcus is coming home, soon. When he does we are having a big, no, make that an enormous tree that we will decorate with our families and then we will all sit down and eat turkey together. We will.

  She sighs and starts to unload the things from her arms onto the counter.

  “I’ve got to run back outside and get the rest of it.”

  “There’s more? It’s only the four of us, why so much stuff?”

  “It’s not just the four of us, Imani. Mr. Black and Maria are coming tomorrow, too.”

  “Oh, well, okay then.”

  “Why don’t you come and help me carry the rest of the stuff in?”

  I stop eating the rubbery eggs that I ordered from the hospital menu with my fork in midair and frown.

  “I promised him.”

  “I know, honey, but it’s not healthy for you to be holed up in this room all day every day. It’s only for a couple minutes, and the fresh air will do you good.”

  I place my fork on my plate, my appetite gone. She doesn’t understand, nobody understands.

  “No.”

  She turns on her heel and clicks away down the hall leaving me feeling guilty and angry.

  “Buongiorno, Señora Castillo,” Ladonna says when she enters the room.

  That’s the first time anyone has addressed me as Mrs. Castillo. It sounds weird, like she’s talking to someone else.

  None of the nurses have made an effort to talk to me. There’s no need to talk to Marcus, so there’s been no reason for anyone to use my new title or name. I wonder how Ladonna found out we were married?

  “Good Morning, Ladonna.” I should have addressed her in Italian but I was so surprised I forgot.

  She checks his vital signs and assesses him eying me occasionally. She glances at my iPad and nods her head as if she approves of my music choice. I smile, and so does she. Ladonna has a warm maternal smile that reaches her eyes. It’s genuine and I love it. She makes me feel welcome in this unfriendly foreign place.

  Marcus’s reputation precedes him. No one has been anything more than clinical, they do what they are required to do and leave. I’m alright with that as long as they are doing everything they can to help wake him up. They can ignore me all day long for all I care. Leave the daily care and TLC to m
e, I don’t mind one bit.

  I watch Ladonna move around the room doing all the things I do when I’m working at Seattle Trinity. I like her gentle bedside manner, she’s like a breath of fresh air in this stagnant windowless room.

  She’s a classic Italian beauty with long silky black hair tied back neatly in a ponytail, tall and curvy, late thirties probably. When she finishes, she rounds the bed and points at my tray asking if I’m finished with her wide eyes. I nod and she scoops it up gliding out of the room silently in her comfy nursing shoes.

  I miss my comfy nursing shoes. I miss my job, my family, home… my husband. I refuse to throw a pity party. I shove my wants and needs aside for now, it’s all about Marcus.

  Elena returns and I help her arrange an obscene amount of gifts under a small artificial Christmas tree that she brought to decorate the room earlier in the week.

  “There, now we’re ready. I have a surprise for you. Actually, it was Marcus’s surprise before… well, before we ended up here.”

  “Oh, really? What is it?”

  Biting her lip she does a little hop in place and clasps her hands together in front of her chest.

  “Well, come on Elena, what is it?” My pulse quickens, her excitement is contagious, this must be a good surprise. But then again most of his are.

  “Your family is coming here, tonight, for Christmas! He didn’t want you to be without them.”

  My family? Here?

  “He’s been planning it for a while. Everyone is coming, your mom and dad, your sister and her husband and their kids.” Everyone? This man of mine is incredible. Even in a coma he is reaching out to touch my heart with his actions. He loves me so perfectly, giving me exactly what I need when I need it.

  I step around the plethora of gifts and stand at his side taking his hand in both of mine. I lean over him and brush my lips against his ear speaking softly, “Thank you, baby, for bringing Christmas to me. I love you so much, every fiber of my being, every cell of my body adores you. But, if you want to make me the happiest woman on the planet you’ll have to give me the greatest Christmas gift, the only thing I really want. Come back to me.”

  I follow my request with a trail of kisses from his ear to his forehead. I brush a wayward lock of his hair away from his beautiful face. I attempt to smooth out a permanent frown line between his eyes with the pad of my thumb unsuccessfully and place one more kiss there between his eyes that I long to see so badly.

  I’m over the moon that my family will be here tomorrow, but the only thing I really want for Christmas is for my husband to wake up.

  Seventy-Four

  “Shit, Elena. I had all of my family’s gifts shipped to the States. Now everything will be there, and they’ll be here.” The smug look on her face says she knows something I don’t.

  “What?”

  “Did you really think Marcus would miss that little detail, Imani? He had those gifts diverted here the moment you purchased them online.” Her smile is a mischievous one and part of me is a little put out with her smugness.

  I hate being the last to know anything. But I can see it for what it is, she loves us. She’s happy to see him being caring and considerate. It’s something she never thought was possible from the old Marcus.

  “I don’t think you will ever fully know or appreciate what you’ve done for him, Imani. He was a different man before you. He loves you so much. You saved him.”

  I look at Marcus in his bed, arranged with pillows and slightly tilted to his side to keep the pressure off his back, the ventilator softly ticking with every breath it pumps into his lungs.

  “He saved me, too.”

  Elena reaches out across the couch, and takes my hand. She squeezes it tight in a show of support and understanding.

  “Why weren’t you two close? Before the accident I mean? You told me that you hadn’t seen each other in years. Why do you live on opposite sides of the country?”

  She squirms in her chair and looks down at her feet before she answers me.

  “Marcus and I were as close as siblings could be when we were little. We leaned on each other and provided each other with a comfort that no one else could, except Aunt Angelica. But she couldn’t be there all the time.

  When our mother attacked us that night, he began to change. I know anyone who went through what we did would have emotional scars. But it was more than that for him.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He was angry with me. We were kids. We didn’t know what to do with emotions like that, I don’t think anybody would, not even adults.

  So much was stolen from him the night he protected me with his life. Our mother was gone, ripped from our lives. I never had much of a bond with her, but he loved her.

  No matter what she did, no matter what she said, he always made an excuse for her. He always tried to explain away her bizarre behavior. He couldn’t accept that his mother was an evil fucking psycho.

  But I did, I hated her for all the things she did to us. It was easier for me when she died. I was glad she took her life. I was happy she was gone. She meant nothing to me. She nearly took the most important person in my life away from me.” Tears brim in her eyes and she takes a shuttering breath.

  “She stole his ability to have children. She ruined any chance he had at having a biological child to pass his name onto. Neither of us was too torn up when dad died. Marcus felt the same way I did about him, abandoned. Marcus was ashamed of being angry with me. He denied it whenever I tried to get him to talk about it. It grew over time, and he could see how much he was hurting me. That’s when he moved to Seattle and opened Dominus. He cut all ties with me. He never called, never visited, no birthday or Christmas cards. I felt like he had erased me from his life.”

  My heart aches for her. I can’t imagine how it felt to have him delete her from his life.

  “He tried to ease his conscience by paying my bills, all of them, always. I tried over and over to have things switched into my name, the power, the mortgage on the house, but nobody would listen to me. He has powerful connections. After several years, I had no choice but to give up.

  I followed what was going on in his life in the news and online. There was always something about the handsome mysterious bachelor who was opening restaurants and clubs all over the world.

  I knew he was OK but I think that hurt worse than if I hadn’t known anything at all. He wouldn’t answer my calls. I tried to visit him once, but his staff turned me away. That was five years ago.

  I was shocked when the hospital called me to come and be with him. I thought, finally, a second chance, and it really has been. I know it’s wrong but I’m glad he was in that accident. If that hadn’t happened, there would be no you, and without you Marcus was empty and hollow. He needed you to shock his heart back to life.”

  “I don’t understand why he was mad at you. It wasn’t your fault your mother was mentally ill, how can he blame the results of that attack on you? You were kids.”

  “I know. He knows. It was one of those irrational thought processes I guess. PTSD except they didn’t have a name for it back then. Do you think he hears us?”

  “Yes, I absolutely do. He knows exactly what’s going on around him. He told me the last time he was in a coma that my talking to him was what kept him focused and fighting.”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t talk about it then. I don’t want to upset him.” I nod silently, and we seamlessly flow into another topic.

  “So when are they arriving? I’m so excited! I miss my family, it seems like forever since I’ve seen my sister.”

  “The jet is due to land around seven tonight. Mr. Black will meet them and take them to the house so they can get some rest. I’ll bring them to the hospital tomorrow. We can spend the day here, or we can go back to the house for a little while and have dinner. If you want to, of course.”

  I can’t lie, it’s tempting. I’m sick of this room, but a little niggling in the back of my mind says it’s not safe to leave Ma
rcus alone, not for even a little while. If he woke up without me by his side again, I could never forgive myself.

  “No, I’m sorry, Elena. I know you want me to get out of here, but I’m not leaving him. Not even for my family. We can celebrate here. Is someone bringing food?”

  “Yes, Dominus is catering, of course. They will take the food wherever we want them to. And, yes, I’d like to see you get some fresh air, but I understand.” She reaches out to fuss with an unruly piece of my hair and smiles a small sad smile.

  “It will be alright, I’m sure he will wake up soon.” Her comforting words don’t match her expression or her actions. She seems nervous, and I know she doesn’t believe what she’s saying.

  It doesn’t matter, I know. I actually feel like something is changing, the otherworldly attachment we have to one another is strengthening. The magnet’s energy is rejuvenating, building. He’s coming back to me I know it; nothing will keep us apart.

  I ignore her doubt and look down at my left hand where my wedding ring glimmers when it catches the light and turns the stone into a kaleidoscope of colors. It’s the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, and not just because of its style or actual physical beauty. It’s beautiful for what it represents, a love that has transcended consciousness, stomped out adversity, and overcome obstacles that normal people would never have a chance against. What we have is not traditional or easy but it’s real, and it’s solid and permanent. I have total faith that God will bring us back together, and I have total faith in Marcus.

  Elena switches on the television to a talk show and I zone out to a place where Marcus and I are happy and healthy back in Seattle.

  An hour goes by, during which Elena and I turn Marcus and arrange him into some semblance of comfort. When I’m satisfied with his position I take a bathroom break.

  It’s time to make my daily appearance in Doctor Carlson’s room. He’s been refusing to see me since we all arrived here ten days ago. Every day, I go to his door. Every day he looks at me and pretends to close his eyes and be asleep. Every day I sigh and walk away. I’m not giving up. He will eventually talk to me, if my suspicions about him are right.