The nurse stands behind me. “We gave her something for pain to help her rest easier, so she’s sleeping.”
I’m standing outside, terrified to see her in pain. I count to three and push the curtain over. The tears form instantly.
She’s on the bed, looking so small and frail. There are some burns on her arms, but overall, it’s not as bad as it could be.
The tests show she has moderate damage, and they are doing everything they can to help her, treating not only the smoke but also possible carbon monoxide poisoning. Because of the pregnancy, they are doing things meticulously and monitoring both of them.
I thank God for the fireman next door who smelled the smoke and was able to get her out quickly. That man . . . he saved her life.
I will never be able to thank him.
I get to the edge of her bed, taking her fingers that aren’t wrapped in mine. She moves subtly, and as much as I want to see her eyes, I keep my voice just barely a whisper so I don’t disturb her. “I’m so fucking sorry, Jessica. I love you so goddamn much, and I don’t deserve you,” I say, my head resting on the rail. “I messed up by pushing you away, and if you come back to me, I’ll give you the world.”
I move my other hand to her stomach, looking at the fetal monitor that silently blips along with the baby’s heartbeat. “You, you fight. You stay there, and you—” I break off. Words becoming too much. My palm covers our child. A baby we made and I want more than anything.
Losing them. Losing either of them isn’t an option. They need to fight. They have to be okay. If love is enough to save someone, then these two have more of it than they can ever need from me.
“You have a sister. Her name is Amelia, and she needs you.” I look up to Jessica. “She needs you, and I need you. I need you more than I need air, Jessica. I was so wrong. Please,” I beg, “please forgive me. Please let me make this right.”
The sound of a throat clearing comes from the door. The nurse gives me a sad smile, and I turn my head and breathe, trying to get a grip on my emotions.
“We need to take her to the chamber now.”
“Yes. Of course.”
Another person enters. “Hello, I’m Dr. Ryan, and I’m monitoring any changes with the baby.”
“I’m the father. Can you tell me anything?”
She smiles. “The first round in the chamber helped, which is why we’re doing it again. As of now, I feel hopeful.”
The nurse finishes attaching things to the side of the bed before patting my shoulder. “We’re ready.”
“We’ll be out to let you all know how it goes.”
And now we wait—again, and I hope she fights and returns to me.
Winnie reaches over, taking my hand. “It’ll be okay.”
I close my eyes, resting my head back on the wall. “I heard her during the fire. I listened, and . . . I just kept thinking that I was going to hear her die. I’m hours away, and I can’t get to her. She’s going to die, and I can’t save her, and the last thing I said to her was to leave.”
“You guys fought?”
“I found out something that . . . well, it caused me to be a dick. I hurt her.”
“Jessica has guilt too, Gray. She felt awful about being cleared and keeping it from you.”
“She’s also pregnant,” I say, not wanting to remember the awful argument about her being cleared to fly again.
Winnie smiles softly. “I know. Does that change things?”
“Of course it does.”
“I think she was worried about that too.”
I look at her sister, a younger version of Jessica. “Why?”
Winnie sighs and shrugs, pulling her hand back. “You’re both idiots. I want to go on the record here. Your last girlfriend got pregnant and left you. Here she was, pregnant and given the all clear to leave. She was terrified.”
“And I did exactly what she feared.”
She doesn’t dispute it. “Delia filled me in on what Jess told her, which wasn’t much. I’m sure your side is different.”
I tell Winnie everything. It’s like once the first word is out, they won’t stop. I tell her about the dinner, the fight with my father, the argument I had with her, and then the call from Jessica. I’m not sure how long I speak, but my voice is raw and I feel broken by the end.
“That’s . . . a lot to take in,” Winnie says as she looks at the door. “I’m not sure what to say, but you and Jessica? You guys are what people write songs about. You’re why love stories exist, and I have to believe that kind of love makes people stronger.”
“Look what it did to her. If that baby doesn’t survive, then what?”
“Then you guys pick up the pieces—together.”
She makes it sound so damn easy. “I broke her.”
“Maybe, but does it matter who broke who? Honestly, Grayson. Does it?”
I look at Winnie, pondering her question. “I don’t know.”
Her shoulder nudges mine. “I want to believe that when you love someone, it really doesn’t. You don’t keep score because it’s not about that. Will she be devastated if she loses the baby? Of course. You both will. However, there will be enough blame to go around, and yet, what you’ll both need is each other. Be there for her.”
“I will never let her go.”
“Good. When she’s awake, tell her that. Tell her until she believes you. And then tell her again for good measure.”
An hour passes, the treatment went well, but they aren’t letting us back in because she’s resting. As I was pacing the hallway, I got a call from the fire chief to come back to the house.
I take Delia’s car, and when I pull up, my brain struggles to process the scene in front of me.
The entire left side of the house is gone, just a burned wall stands. There is water and burned furnishings everywhere. It’s completely destroyed.
“Grayson Parkerson?” a man calls my name and I turn toward him.
“Chief.”
He nods. “How is your wife?”
Wife. The word vibrates through me, settling in my chest. It’s what she should be. “She’s doing okay.”
“Good.” He clears his throat and points over to the house. “I thought you may want to see what we found as the cause of the fire.”
We make our way over to the electric box. “It was the furnace that caused a flame rollout. It’s location and age caused the perfect storm.”
“She never should’ve been here,” I say more to myself.
“We’re going to seal it off, so if there’s anything you need, go ahead and grab it now.”
“The only things I need are in the hospital.”
The house may have burned down. I may have lost the place where so many wonderful memories were made, but I won’t lose her.
I won’t let anything else go up in flames.
I look back at the structure one last time before leaving to save what really matters—us.
Chapter 34
Jessica
My hand rests on my stomach as tears fall. I’m so tired. I’m so . . . overwhelmed. Everything feels like it weighs a hundred pounds and I can’t move any of it off my chest.
I think about how he begged for me to fight and what he said to the baby. He knows, and now I don’t know what to do about it.
Nothing feels real, and my head is too jumbled to decide anything.
There’s a knock at the door, and Delia enters.
“Jess.” She rushes forward, tears in her eyes. “Oh, Jessica!”
“I’m okay.”
“Are you sure?”
I nod. “I think so. They said if I had been inside a minute longer, we’d be having a very different discussion.”
She sniffs and wipes under her eyes. “I swear, you have the worst luck, so you can’t leave the bubble we make for you.”
“I think a bubble sounds good.”
Her hand grabs mine. “We’ve been so worried. The doctor said you’ll need to be on oxygen for a while.”
<
br /> “Yeah, they’re still monitoring things, but the chamber helped a lot. Where is Grayson?”
She looks out toward the door and then back to me. “He’s in the waiting room. He’s been beside himself, Jess. I’ve never seen him so afraid before. And then, I’m so sorry, I told him about the baby.”
I squeeze her hand. “It’s all right.”
“I just . . . I know you didn’t tell anyone else, and I wanted the doctors to know.”
My hand moves to my stomach as more tears fall. “You did the right thing.”
“Did I?”
“Yes. You . . . you were . . .”
The emotions become too much, and I start to cry. Delia grabs some tissues and hands them to me. The two of us cry together as I struggle to deal with all that’s happened. I almost died. I almost died in a fire in the house that has meant so much to me. It’s all so damn much.
Delia moves to the side of the bed, wiping my face for me.
“Jess . . . I have to ask . . .”
My eyes look up as someone comes to a stop just in front of the doorway. Grayson stands there, looking exhausted and yet so damn gorgeous at the same time. He watches us, and Delia stands.
“I’m going to go out there. You guys have a lot to talk about.” She leans over, kissing my cheek.
He steps aside so she can pass and then moves closer to me, looking a little nervous, and I can feel my pulse rising. “Please don’t be nervous. I just . . . I’m so sorry, Jessica.”
“I am too.”
He moves to the side of my bed. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I was such an asshole. Everything I said to you, it wasn’t true. I don’t want you to leave. Ever. I want . . . well, I want it all with you, and I was angry and scared I’d lose you.”
As much as I want to be angry, I’m not. I love him, and I may hate what happened, but I also know what it’s like to live without him. I never want to do it again.
“I wasn’t going to leave,” I say the words that he wouldn’t hear before. “I was happy because I knew that staying with you was all I wanted. Not because of the baby but because of us. Because of you and Amelia. I wanted the future before us, and . . .”
“I love you,” he says matter-of-factly. “I love you, and I didn’t want to watch you walk away again. I thought that pushing you out would give you the life you really wanted.”
I shake my head. “You’re the life I want.”
“Then stay with me, Jess. Let me make it up to you.”
If he were any other man, I might not give in so easily, but it’s Grayson. The other half to my soul and the only man who has ever held my heart. We had a fight, and instead of giving up, I’m going to fight for him—for us.
“Grayson . . .” I say as tears fall. “The baby . . .”
He steps forward, his hands cupping my cheeks. “Did we lose her?”
My tears fall harder, and I wrap my fingers around his wrist. “No.” I look over at the monitor. “He or she is still in there, but they’ve warned me. I’m very early in the pregnancy, and this has been . . . traumatic. We need to be prepared.”
Listening to the doctor explain the risks and possibilities was incredibly hard. If we’re lucky, we will have a healthy baby. But it’ll be weeks of testing and monitoring to make sure that neither of us have residual issues.
Grayson’s forehead drops to mine. We breathe each other in. “No matter what, I’m right here. I won’t let you go.” And then he climbs in the bed with me, his arms wrapped tightly around me, holding me to his chest. “You will never lose me again, love, because there’s no one else in this world who ever had my heart. Rest, I’ll hold you and keep the nightmares away.”
I close my eyes, listening to the sound of his heartbeat, and sleep dreamlessly for the first time in months.
“It’s great to meet you, Grayson,” Dr. Warvel says. She asked if Grayson would come to this session with me to discuss all that went on.
“I’ve heard a lot about you.”
She smiles. “I hope all good things.”
“Of course.”
I snort. “Don’t lie to a therapist.”
Dr. Warvel laughs. “I’m going to pretend he’s telling the truth.”
“It is the truth,” I say with a grin. “We’re both . . . coming to grips with all that happened.”
“First,” she says looking at me, “I want to say how happy I am that you’re okay. I was worried and seeing you here right now is a miracle.”
“I seem to be using the world’s allotment up this year.”
Her smile is warm. “I will say that I don’t know anyone who has survived a plane crash and a house fire in a six-month period.”
“Yes, I’m an anomaly.”
“That much is true,” Grayson agrees. I was released five days ago with very strict instructions to stay calm and relaxed.
Dr. Warvel nods in agreement. “Second, I want to say that I’m glad you’re both here today. I’d like to get a feel for how you’re both doing.”
“I’m okay,” I tell her. “I’m doing well, the doctors are very happy with my lung function, and I’m not having any issues with my TBI. I worried that would be triggered, but so far, I’m healing and I haven’t lost the baby.”
That is probably the only reason I am so okay. The OB-GYN explained what to watch for and said that all my tests, including the ultrasound, showed nothing abnormal. If I did lose the baby at this point, it may not have anything to do with the fire and just be a miscarriage. She said to take it easy, keep myself as calm as I can, and contact her if anything changes.
“That’s great.”
“I agree. I was told that I should take it easy and know my limits,” I say, glaring at Grayson.
Grayson is taking the calm thing to an extreme. The first day, it was cute. He was so caring and waited on me hand and foot. The second day, it was . . . well, still a little cute. Amelia also took the role of being a nurse very serious. She stayed next to me, feeding me noodles, and making me drink my water each time the alarm went off.
By the third day, I was no longer so amused.
I wanted to get up, take a walk, but all I was “allowed” to do was sit on the deck while Amelia and Grayson hovered.
I informed him that I wanted to take a walk, which he was adamant about being too strenuous. Then he almost lost his shit when I was in the kitchen, preparing to do some baking, which calms me.
Yesterday, when he sat in the bathroom while I showered, asking if I needed help, I lost it. To avoid a fight, I went to bed at six o’clock, feigning exhaustion.
He raises both hands. “I’m just making sure you don’t do too much.”
“You’re making sure I don’t do anything.” I turn to Dr. Warvel. “I love him. I love that he wants to take care of me, but I’m not an invalid.”
She shifts, which means she’s settling in to give it to one of us, and I’m hoping it’s him. “Jessica,” she starts, and I groan, “you know what it’s like to suffer a trauma. You lived through the plane crash, dealt with crippling nightmares, stuttering, and a host of other physical issues. What you’re living right now with Grayson is another version of it.”
“I understand that.”
“Do you?”
“You just said I should.”
She smiles. “But that doesn’t mean you understand it. I’m pointing out that being overprotective is a part of him dealing with his trauma.” Her eyes move to Grayson. “Did you tell Jessica what you went through regarding the fire?”
He looks to me and then to her. “Not really.”
“Why don’t you try?”
“It was nothing compared to her being in the fire,” he says.
Dr. Warvel nods slowly, I can see her brain working on the best angle. “I’m sure that’s true, but you lived it as well. Maybe not the same way as she did, but there is still your version of it, correct?”
“Yes. I wasn’t in the fire, but I listened to it. I had to drive to her, not knowing a
nything. Then, when I got there, I had to wait until someone would tell me if she was even alive. I had to wait and worry, seeing the fucking house burn. Literally, the house was on fire. Not just the beach house, but us as well. Our relationship was going up in flames.”
Man, she’s good. Just a few questions, and he’s letting it out.
I turn to him. “We weren’t going up in flames.”
“No? It sure felt like it. I lost you, Jessica. I thought you were dead. I listened . . .”
My fingertips move down his face. “I’m right here.”
“I know that, and I am trying to tell myself to stop hovering, but I lost my fucking heart when you wouldn’t answer the phone. I screamed for five minutes, racing for my keys, trying to find my shoes, and the whole time, I was calling out your name over and over, listening to the sounds of glass breaking and what sounded like bombs exploding in the house. And then the line went dead, and I had no idea . . .”
I didn’t know that. During my stay at the hospital, it was a lot of focusing on my prognosis and monitoring the baby. We didn’t talk about the fire other than when I relayed the events to the fire marshal. My mother and sister went back to Willow Creek two days after the fire, and Delia left the next day, leaving me with Grayson.
Stella came down with Jack and Amelia because she was struggling with him being gone so long and had overheard Jack and Stella discussing the fire.
Each day, I healed a bit more both mentally and physically. I had Grayson. I had my life. I was okay.
But he wasn’t, and I didn’t see that.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask him. “I knew something was wrong, but you didn’t tell me any of that.”
“You are supposed to stay calm and stress free.”
I rub my thumb over his cheek, the scruff longer than usual. “We have a bad habit of trying to protect each other by keeping things from the other.”
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