“You don’t know that,” she said.
“Yes, I do. Cash is the most stubborn fucker I know. In everything he does. Why should this be any different?” His gaze dropped to her hand, where she was twisting her engagement ring around her finger. “About time he made an honest woman of you. Do you think after finally plucking up the courage to propose, he’ll fuck it all up now?”
“This isn’t anything he has control of, Rupe. He can’t will himself out of this.” Her eyes flickered up to the sky, and she gazed at the stars, the same stars Cash had pointed out to her a few days before during a walk along the beach in the Maldives. Except here, they seemed dull and lifeless. The irony wasn’t lost on her.
“The car hit him so hard. I can’t get the sound of his head slamming against the windscreen out of my mind.” She rammed the heels of her hands into her eyes. “I keep hearing it. Over and over. The dull thud. The sound of his body as he was thrown from the bonnet and hit the ground.”
Rupe’s arms closed around her, and she sobbed into his chest. He let her cry it out, and only when she was spent did he pull a handkerchief out of his pocket and dab her face. She couldn’t help smiling.
“Only you would still use handkerchiefs in the twenty-first century.” She spotted the letters RFW in blue on the corner, and her smile widened. “And stitched with your initials no less.”
“It’s part of my charm. Although Cash would call it pretentious shit.”
She laughed, even though it didn’t feel right when Cash was lying unconscious in a hospital bed. “That sounds like him.”
Rupe put his arm around her shoulder and squeezed. “Ready to go back inside?”
She took a deep breath through her nose. “Yes. Let’s do this.”
The following morning, they removed the ventilator, and Cash began breathing on his own. The doctors assured them this was a good sign. Tally watched carefully for a hint that he was regaining consciousness, but as time passed, she began to realise this was going to be a longer process than she’d first thought. But Rupe was right: this was Cash, a strong and capable man who rarely let anything beat him. She had to hang on to the hope that this particular fight would be no different from his determination to win every tennis match he played.
The police visited again to tell them they had caught the hit-and-run driver. He was a young man, only twenty-two, and had been drinking in a local bar with his girlfriend when they’d had a row and he’d stormed off. After mowing Cash down, he’d driven out of Paris and set fire to the car to try to cover his tracks. But the police had the bar owner’s evidence showing the young man had been drinking for several hours. The police told her he was looking at significant jail time. Not that it mattered to Tally. It was immaterial how much time the guy spent in prison. None of it would take away what had happened to Cash and the living nightmare they all had to cope with.
Minutes turned into hours, and hours into days. Despite both Rachael and Rupe urging her to take regular breaks, Tally wouldn’t leave Cash for more than a few moments at a time, and only then to grab a bite to eat or to use the bathroom.
She developed a routine of sorts. Each morning, Rupe would fetch the paper, and Tally would look through it, pick out any interesting stories, and read them to Cash. Then she’d choose a novel by one of his favourite authors and read from it, at least four or five chapters at a time, before her throat would become dry and scratchy and she’d have to take a break. Then she’d simply hold his hand and pray.
Dawn broke on the sixth day. Rachael and Rupe were having a well-earned lie-in at the hotel, and Tally couldn’t stand the distance from Cash any longer. She needed his body next to hers. They had always used physical contact as a way to connect, and she craved that connection now more than ever.
Carefully lifting the tubes and wires, she managed to make a space for herself, and she crawled onto the bed, curling into his side. She rested her hand over his heart, gaining comfort from the gentle rise and fall of his chest. His beard had grown longer than he normally liked to wear it, and she made a mental note to ask Rupe to bring his trimmer from the hotel.
“Wake up, Cash,” she whispered, gently kissing his cheek. “Please, babe. I need you.”
He didn’t, but even so, being physically close to him comforted her, and gradually, she drifted off to sleep.
She awoke some time later, not sure whether it was of her own accord or from the gentle touch of Marie’s hand.
Marie smiled kindly, although her eyes held a reprimand. “You shouldn’t be up there with him, Tally. What if you moved in your sleep and pulled a tube out?”
“Please, Marie. I need to touch him.”
Marie nodded and patted her arm. “I know, honey. All right, but only while I’m in the room with you. If I have to leave, even for a moment, you get down. Deal?”
Tally nodded and curved back into Cash’s side. She was tired, so tired. She closed her eyes for a second, but when they snapped open the next time, it wasn’t Marie who had woken her—it was the slight rumble in Cash’s chest beneath her left ear. She half sat up, looking for signs of him regaining consciousness, and when his eyes flickered open, hope surged within her.
“Hi,” she said—stupidly inadequate but the first thing that came to mind.
“Hi.” His voice rasped, and a flicker of confusion crossed his face, but Tally didn’t care about any of that. He’d survived. Against all the odds, Cash had survived and come back to her.
“Marie, he’s awake,” she said, trying to stay calm for Cash’s sake, even though mounting excitement made her want to scream with delight—and relief. The tension she’d carried on her shoulders for days evaporated.
When Marie didn’t respond, Tally glanced over her shoulder. That’s odd. Marie’s chair lay empty. What had happened to her rule?
“Stay here, babe,” she said, loath to leave him but knowing she needed to get a doctor. She climbed down from the bed as carefully as she could. “I’ll get someone.”
“Wait.” Cash’s left hand snapped around her wrist, stronger than she’d expected, given what he’d been through. “What happened? Where am I?”
“You’re in Paris. You were hit by a car almost a week ago. You nearly didn’t make it.”
“Paris?” His brow furrowed in confusion. “What the fuck am I doing in Paris?”
She tried not to worry about what his apparent lack of memory might mean. She held up her left hand. “Proposing to me.”
His gaze raked her from head to foot, and given the disdainful look on his face, earlier hope was replaced with fear. Cold, terrifying fear. Something was very wrong.
“This is a joke, right? I mean, look at you. I like my women blond and tall. And thin,” he added, a sneer marring his handsome face.
Tally’s knees buckled. This couldn’t be happening. Pain sliced through her chest, and she clutched at her shirt. “But… but you proposed. We’re together. We’ve been together for seven months.”
Cash snorted. “Dream on, sweetness. As if I’d waste my time on someone like you.”
A cry ripped from her throat, and as her knees gave way, she fell to the floor.
“Tally!”
She awoke with a start, gasping for air. Her lungs were burning, and her chest heaved, breath coming in short, sharp bursts.
“Tally.” Marie’s face swam before her, and she tried to focus. Her head snapped around to Cash. His face was serene, eyes moving behind their lids. He must be dreaming. And so was I. Fuck, it was only a dream.
In her haste, she almost fell off the bed, bile burning her throat. It had seemed so real. The way he’d looked at her. The way he’d ridiculed her, hatred spilling from his eyes as he’d pointed out her deepest fears, spoken them aloud.
Except he hadn’t.
“I’m going to be sick,” she said.
Marie grabbed a surgical kidney tray and shoved under her chin. Her stomach rolled, and she retched, but nothing came up except yellow bile, which she spat into the tray.
She shivered violently as Marie wiped the bile from her chin. Her abdomen stopped heaving, but she felt bruised inside. Her mouth tasted gritty, and she reached for a bottle of water. She swilled out her mouth and spat the excess into the tray.
“I’m sorry,” she said. Sweat poured off her, and her legs wobbled—for real this time.
Marie grabbed a chair and encouraged her to sit. “What happened? You were sleeping, then all of a sudden, you yelled ‘No’ at the top of your voice. You were thrashing about, and I was worried you’d pull out a tube. That’s why I was a little rough with you.”
“I dreamt he woke up. Oh, Marie.” She buried her face in the nurse’s shoulder, her body heaving with wracking sobs.
“Honey.” Marie held her, rocking her back and forth until she calmed.
“He’s not going to wake up, is he?”
The skin bunched around Marie’s eyes, and she gave Tally a pained stare. “The longer he remains unconscious, the less likely it is he’ll make a good recovery. But you more than anyone know miracles happen. Look at his mum. Maybe it’s in the genes. We know so little about how the brain operates. There are no hard-and-fast rules.”
Tally turned away, her gaze firmly on Cash. She desperately wanted him to wake up, but what if her dream was a prequel to a new world? What if, when Cash woke, he couldn’t even remember her?
The horror of that potential reality didn’t even bear thinking about.
42
“Now,” Tally said, digging a book out of her bag, “I know you won’t like this, but I am sick of reading the sports pages, and Saturday’s paper is mostly full of whether anyone will catch Chelsea at the top of the league. Therefore, I’ve decided I’m going to read a novel I like. Not one of those crime novels you love so much. Nope, we’re going to have a good old-fashioned romance. Suck it up, mister.”
Rupe groaned. “Buddy, I’m sorry, but you’re on your own. No fucking way I’m sticking around to listen to tripe.” He quickly rose from the chair beside Cash’s bed, and in five seconds, he’d left the room.
Tally grinned at Rupe’s retreating back. “We don’t need him anyway, although your mum will be gutted she’s missing the first chapter of True Devotion.”
Tally was trying so hard to keep her spirits up. In her darker moments, she wanted to scream at the unfairness of it all, but that wouldn’t help anyone. She had to believe Cash would recover, because the alternative was too horrifying.
She climbed onto the bed, even though she shouldn’t because Evelyn had popped out for five minutes. She lay on her side. With one hand on the book and one on Cash’s chest, she began to read. She wasn’t even halfway through the first chapter when her eyelids began to droop. She was so tired these days. Reluctant to move from her comfortable position, she dropped the book on the floor. On the cusp of sleep, the halfway-there state that brought brief moments of peace, she felt a hand brush against her back. She snuggled closer.
Her eyes snapped open. She twisted her head.
Cash was staring, his eyes focused directly on hers, and for the briefest moment, Tally assumed it was one of those times when an involuntary impulse would cause his eyes to open even while he remained unconscious. But then his hand moved again.
She froze. Was she dreaming this time too? She couldn’t take another day like the one before. The pain, when reality hit, that she’d been sleeping—regardless of how vile Cash had behaved in her dream—had been awful, and she hadn’t built up the strength for round two yet.
Taking great pains not to disturb any of the wires and tubes surrounding him, she sat up.
“Cash,” she said, clasping his hand.
His eyes flickered to where her hand clutched his fingers. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He briefly closed his eyes again, and Tally feared he’d lost consciousness, but then they reopened once more.
“Don’t try to talk, babe,” she said, touching a finger to his lips. “You’ve had an accident.”
A hint of a frown creased his brow, but as if the effort was too much, his eyes closed again.
“I’m going to get the nurse.” She climbed off the bed and almost tripped over her own feet in her haste to get someone. She spotted Evelyn behind the nurses’ station.
“He’s awake,” she shouted, waving her arms in the air. “He woke up.”
Evelyn dropped the file she was holding and ran towards Tally, her shoes squeaking on the tiled floor. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. He touched my back when I was lying next to him. And he looked at me. I mean, right at me.”
Evelyn rushed into Cash’s room, with Tally directly behind her, and began doing various tests. Tally hovered by the door, unsure what to do. Cash didn’t look awake anymore, but she knew she was right. It hadn’t been a dream. Not this time.
Evelyn finished her checks and rushed off to get the doctor. Tally settled into the familiar chair by the bed and wrapped her fingers around Cash’s. “Come back to me, Cash. Please, I’m begging you.”
She felt a faint pressure against her hand. The movement was almost imperceptible, but it was enough for Tally to know he’d heard her. Tears streamed down her face.
Everything was going to be okay.
Over the next week, Cash drifted in and out of consciousness. The day after he’d first woken up, he’d tried to rip his tubes out, so the nurses had restrained him for his own safety. They assured Tally it was normal for some patients to try to do this, but it had shaken her up, and she’d barely left his side since then, worried out of her mind he’d find a way to harm himself.
On the morning she crossed off two weeks since Cash’s accident, Rupe arrived with a cheese croissant wrapped in cellophane. When she began to unwrap it, he stopped her. “Go and sit in the garden and eat.”
Tally shook her head. “I’m okay here.”
“You have two choices, darling.” He pointed at the door. “Either you walk out of that door unaided, or I’m carrying you. One way or the other, you are taking a break. You look like shit.”
Tally half-laughed. She raised her eyebrows at Rachael for support. Rachael put her hands in the air. “I’m with Rupe on this one. You need to get some fresh air. Now go. If Cash so much as twitches, we’ll call.”
Tally sighed and accepted defeat. She tucked the croissant in her bag and headed outside to the private gardens at the back of the hospital. At least the press couldn’t get to her there. She’d only once made the mistake of leaving through the front entrance. The hordes had descended, pushing their microphones and cameras in her face and bombarding her with questions about Cash’s progress, or lack thereof. She’d frozen, like a deer in headlights, until Rupe had come to her rescue.
Today was one of the hottest days so far, and Tally began to sweat the minute she sat on one of the wooden benches. She closed her eyes and lifted her face to the sun. Despite her protestations to Rupe and Rachael, it did feel good to be outside, to breathe fresh air instead of the reconditioned stuff in the hospital. She took a deep breath, revelling in the smell of the flowers planted in borders around a small patch of grass. Being surrounded by nature and birds tweeting overhead reminded her life did exist outside the four walls of the hospital.
Her phone rang, and she scrambled to get it, hoping it was Rachael saying Cash had regained consciousness again. When she spotted the caller ID, her excitement waned.
“Hi, Em.”
“Hey, babes. How’s Cash?”
“The same. He wakes, he sleeps. He freaks out occasionally. The doctors keep telling us he’s making progress, but it doesn’t feel like it.”
“Why don’t I come over? Only until tomorrow. I can be on a plane in a couple of hours.”
Tally was about to refuse, as she had every other time Em had offered, but suddenly, she needed to see her friend, to be normal, if only for a brief time.
“That’d be great.”
Em’s answering sigh was full of relief. “Good. That’s good, Tal. I thought you’d say no again. I’ll be there
as soon as possible.”
Tally hung up, finished her croissant, and headed back inside in case she missed a precious moment of consciousness.
“Any change?” she said as she walked into Cash’s hospital room.
“Back already?” Rachael frowned her disapproval. “You need to take better care of yourself, Tally. You’ll be no use to him if he gets better and ends up visiting you in hospital.”
“Em’s on her way over.”
Rachael’s frown turned into a smile. “Good. Maybe she’ll have more luck getting you out of here. Why don’t you go back to the hotel tonight?” When Tally vigorously shook her head, Rachael sighed. “I’m not kidding. You look awful. You need the downtime.”
“What if he wakes up and needs me?”
“Then I’ll call. The hotel is ten minutes from here. If you run, you’ll make it in five.”
Tally scrubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. A short break did sound good. With a horrible feeling of guilt swarming through her gut, she nodded. “Okay.”
When Em arrived later that day, she and Tally went for dinner in the hotel restaurant. Sitting opposite Em, nursing a large glass of wine and waiting for her rare steak to be delivered, she could almost believe life was normal.
It was anything but.
“You look fucking awful, babes.”
Tally glanced at Em over the rim of her wine glass. “Everyone seems to be saying that.”
“They’re right. Harsh, I know, but you clearly haven’t been taking care of yourself. Some use you’re going to be when Cash properly wakes up.”
Tally’s gaze on Em was unwavering. “What if he doesn’t?”
“He’s making improvements, right?”
Tally shrugged. “Of a sort.”
“What does that mean?”
She sighed. “He’s in and out all the time, Em. When he looks at me, it doesn’t feel as though he sees me, you know? I could be a doctor, a nurse, a cardboard cut-out. His eyes—they’re cold. Emotionless.” Tears pricked her eyes, and she dashed them away. She was so bloody sick of crying.
Losing Game: A Winning Ace Novel (Book 2) Page 22
