by Gigi Aceves
Brian literally drags me out of that God forsaken room, but halfway through the dark hallway littered with agents and criminals being detained, I remember my dad. I squirm out of Brian’s hold and run toward my father. How can I focus on myself, and forget his lifeless body without telling my brother.
Brian grabs and pulls me toward him. Embracing me so tightly, I can hardly breathe.
“Enough! Roxy, I need you to listen to me. Even if this place is swimming with agents, it’s still a fluid situation, and running around uncontrolled isn’t safe. Do you, seriously, want to waste the sacrifice Cody made today?”
“No! Of course not. I-I just need to tell Damien about our d-dad. I-I don’t want h-him left here.”
Nodding he says, “We know, Rox. Come on, let’s get you checked out. The sooner we get out of here, the sooner you’ll see Cody.”
Brian flags down two medics and instructs them to clean and patch me up. Brian insists on me being strapped on a gurney and taken via ambulance. Having no fight left in me, I allow Brian to do as he wishes while shock catches up, numbing my mind. It seems I’m numb to everything else, but Cody. All I can think about is him…all I can see is him….all I want is him, but knowing he doesn’t want me resembles a knife slicing my heart in half. How I wish my heart were numb to the pain, because constantly feeling it is too much to bear.
My numbness gradually turns into anxiety, because I suddenly remember what that devil did to me, how he violated me, how he tainted everything pure that Cody and I shared…what we created together. Now, my heart has a void so big, I don’t know if I can ever cope since my source of strength decided to give up on me.
Physically I’m all good, I think. I’m semi blood free, every scratch and every wound are cleaned and covered. Why can’t emotional pain be as easily cured? There’s no amount of pain killers, no amount of anesthesia, and no amount of salve that can be applied to my broken heart and my mangled spirit. Not even a heart surgeon can put my heart back together. I don’t think there’s a therapist that can erase the memory of what that vile person did to me.
There’s one man, though….one brave and selfless man who can make my heart beat the way it should. He can, once again, help me erase the ugliness that lives in my brain. He can help create pure and good memories that only his lips can kiss away…that only his touch can lovingly heal. However, he’s fighting for his own heart to continue beating. It’s my hope his heart won’t forget mine.
LT walks toward us and leans over me, capturing my head with his hands, holding me still. His hold on me gives me momentary relief, until my love’s battered body and bloodied face, followed by my father’s lifeless body flashes in my mind as Diego’s evil hands and lips creep into my subconscious, causing my body to shake. Once again, I’m surrounded with pain, regret, and disgust. As quickly as his arms bring me comfort, they just as quickly rob me of it, because as my mind remembers, my heart feels the pain.
Forgetting isn’t something the mind and heart are capable of doing. However, forgiveness is something it understands…in time. So, in silence, I’ll suffer…in the stillness I’ll wait, because I know, I’m stronger when I’m around Cody no matter what’s standing in my way. God will help me to rise up from this, this I know with certainty, because I’ve seen HIS miracles work in my friends’ lives. While I wait, I’ll hold onto the hope that forgiveness brings. Forgiveness provides renewal of both body and mind…it helps to heal the bad and forget the ugly.
“Oh, God, I’m so glad to see you. You don’t know how much, Roxy. Putting yourself in danger isn’t gonna happen, again. You hear me? Not again,” my brother confidently says.
“Did you see, Dad?”
His concerned face morphs into indifference, which I currently want to erase so badly, because the man he knows wasn’t…isn’t….the man that died in my arms. I hope forgiveness comes easily for my brother, just as what happened with me.
Cupping his cheek, I say, “He changed, Damien. True, he made bad choices, sacrificed our family for the sake of his own needs and wants, but don’t we do it, too? I mean, put everything on the line to achieve something, whether it’s good or bad at the expense of our loved ones?”
His lips in a thin line and eyes blazing in anger, he delivers his first blow. “Do not compare me to that bastard. Do not belittle my choices, because mine won’t even come close to his. My choices are made out of sacrifice, not out of fucking greed. It may cause my loved ones to hurt every time I ship out to God knows where, but I’ll make it time and time again, because it’s a choice that others will benefit from. I do it…we do it…” He starts flailing his hand around, pointing to every agent. “….not because of what she can do for us…” pointing at the American flag patch on his jacket. “…but what we can do for her.”
My hand should’ve fallen from holding his cheek, because he’s shaking so violently. I’m afraid he’s going to pop a vein. “I’m not saying his choices are like yours. I know, they’re not. Yours are honorable while his was corrupt. But, it’s not how long he had to suffer to deserve forgiveness, it’s because he realized his mistakes that he deserves it. He loves you and mom, Damien. He took a bullet for Cody, and while it may not be an act deserving of forgiveness from you, it is for me. When it counted the most, he made the right choice. He did it for me. If you were standing there, and not Cody, he would’ve done the same thing, because it would be the right choice, not for him, but for you and mom.”
Shaking his head he says, “Stop! I don’t want to talk about him. He doesn’t deserve anything from me. Nothing.”
I nod, not in compliance, but in resignation. I hand the forgiveness over to God, so HE can pass it on to my brother. HE is the only one who can heal my brother’s hurts. Knowing our conversation about this subject is over, I’m sure he’ll gladly comply to my request.
“Take me to him, please,” I beg as fresh tears roll down my face.
He reaches for my hand and grips it hard as he nods at me, “How are you? I saw everything that bastard did to you. I’m so sorry, I wasn’t there to protect you. Tell me please, what can I do? How can I take it all away?”
Not wanting to burden my brother, yet again, to carry another person’s pain, I know I have to lie. Trying to learn from my mistakes, I know lying isn’t the answer, but I have every right to protect those I love, too.
“I’m fine, Damien. Time heals everything, but being near Cody will help me, promise.” Offering a small smile, though pained, I’m sure helped to calm my brother’s nerves, for now.
A sob escapes me, because of the two words my brother uttered. Two words that remind me of Cody, and instantly, fear and sadness overpower me. I know he may never forgive me, and quite possibly, I may never forgive myself….
Forgiving yourself for a mistake is hard…
It’s not easily done…
It’s a merciless path…
A path travelled by most…
Survived by few.
“Why are you crying?” LT asks as sadness coats his voice.
“I’m afraid. What if he d-doesn’t want me there?” With a tiny, shaky voice, I finally say out loud my worst fear.
Shaking this thought out of my head is a hard task. I do it, though, to survive. Happy one second, because I find myself feeling strong; sad the next, because I feel so weak. One second I’m confident, the next I’m full of doubt. One second I’m full of resolve, the next I’m pummeled by uncertainty. The only thing constant is pain….my pain.
Brian lifts my chin to face him. “Do you believe in the love you both share, Roxy?”
“I.Do. But…..”
Shaking his head Brian continues, “Then, there shouldn’t be any ‘but’. Love doesn’t know that word, because love never questions. It’s confident in its giving, brave in its fight, and strong in its belief. So, are you ready to do this?”
I nod my head tentatively, but my brother, who’s beside me, nods twice. Once again, he’s carrying my load, transferring his boundless confiden
ce to me, and hungrily I accept it. Two exceptional men flank me as the medic pushes me toward the ambulance. Destination, to my one and only love.
Finally, we arrive….
The waiting is over….
For me.
The healing starts….
For him.
Forgiveness…
Begins with him.
Love…
Ends with us.
After being thoroughly evaluated by an ER Doctor and given fresh scrubs to change into, I park myself in the waiting room with my eyes glued to the door where one of the nurses told us the surgeon will come through. Everyone is here, except Jake and Trish. Tami is sitting next to Brian, who’s next to Uncle Jack, holding Aunt Patti’s hand while she silently prays. I know this, because her lips are constantly moving, and her eyes are closed as she holds my right hand tightly, while my brother holds my left. Damien is my anchor, never leaving my side, even for a second, while Summer sits quietly next to him.
I don’t want to talk…
Because there’s nothing to say.
I don’t want to move…
Because fear binds me on this chair as I wait.
I hate waiting…
Because it’s torture.
It’s torture because of the unknown…
This big, white, unforbidden door has been calling my name since I got here. It’s as if it’s pulling me toward it. The need to push it, go through it is so intense; the only reason why I’m still sitting down is because of a six foot two man holding me down. I close my eyes for a second, willing life to stop, but instead, I’m inundated with memories of him…of us. Though painful, I relish its intrusion, because in this particular memory, we are happy…he is moving…he is loving me…we are perfect…our kind of perfect.
Then, the perfect is distorted by memories of someone touching me, making me dirty, warping my thoughts, killing my spirit. Surprisingly, when these moments hit me, my brother’s hold on me becomes much stronger, and my Aunt’s prayers much louder. It’s as if God makes them feel my pain to help me through it.
Two hours turn to three, then just as LT is about to carry me to the cafeteria and force food in me, a guy wearing blood stained scrubs approaches the center of the waiting room where more than one family waits. I can’t speak, can’t move, I can only hold onto my brother for dear life. Afraid to find out, but wanting to know. Such is the state of my mind while my heart beats at an uncontrollable pace.
“Mr. Oliver.” The man in the scrubs scans the waiting room.
My uncle stands up and says, “Right here.”
Motioning for my uncle to sit down, he sits on the center table as he clasps his hands together.
“The surgery went well. I was able to repair the tear that’s causing the bleeding in his lung. Also, he’s suffering from swelling in his brain, more than likely caused by the severe blows he received on his face and head. He also suffered a collapsed lung. He’s in stable, but critical condition and will be in the ICU for further observation due to the injuries he sustained. Do you have any questions for me?”
“So, he’s alive?” I ask, uncertainty in my voice as I claps my brother’s hand harder.
“He is. Though, it will be a long road to recovery for him.”
“When can we see him?” I ask with a little bit of life in my voice.
“Maybe in another hour.”
My uncle clears his throat and asks, “I know you said there’s swelling on the brain. So, he’s in a coma? Will he need any more surgeries?”
“We have our team of specialist on board. He’s in a medically induced coma, but his Neurologist will monitor his progress. If the swelling goes down, he’ll gradually reduce the meds and bring him back out of it. Until the swelling goes down, any surgeries he may need has to be decided base on his improvement. He has a team of doctors assessing him as we speak, a neurologist, orthopedic surgeon to name a couple. His attending physician will give you more in-depth information about his condition.”
Slowly standing, he shakes everyone’s hands, except mine, because I’m still being held by my brother and aunt. A physical anchor on my left, a spiritual light on my right. As soon as he walks away, a feeling of dread ignites my body like a wild fire, while everyone around me remains quiet. Perhaps, they’re allowing everything to sink in or waiting for me to drop down in hysterics. Hopefully, I can control myself, and not fall apart in front of them. I’m psyching myself not to freak out, because I want, maybe need, to suffer in silence as penance for putting him here.
“Did you hear that, Roxy?” My uncle asks.
I can only nod as I release my aunt’s hand to wipe my tears. It’s because of my dad that he’s here. It’s because of me that he’s here. How can I carry the guilt that’s consuming me? How can he possibly forgive me? How can he even look at me, let alone touch me after witnessing what Diego did to me? How can we survive this?
Twin tears fall…
Again….I wipe them.
Can I forgive myself?
Another set of tears fall….
Again….I wipe them.
Will he ever forgive me?
They fall….I wipe them away.
I think…
They fall again…and again I wipe them away.
“Can you guys give us a moment?”
My eyes remain glued to the floor as I feel everyone leaving, except for my uncle. What he’s about to say, I don’t know. Will I accept the truth he’s about to give me, I don’t know. All I know is that I’m thankful he’s here, again….for me.
“Look at me,” he confidently instructs me as he reaches for my hands, covering them with his.
Gradually, I lift my eyes to meet his as we just stare at each other for a while. Just like that, I’m brought back to re-live a scene from fifteen years ago when I was a child, seeking protection from someone who willingly gave it to me.
“Now, you listen to me. I don’t want you to blame yourself. You aren’t the reason he’s here. He wanted to protect you, just as much as anyone of us did. He took that responsibility, because he wanted it…he embraced it with everything he had because he loves you. Is he here because of your dad? Perhaps. But, it’s not your cross to carry. Will he be angry? Maybe. He’s only human, Roxy. He bleeds just like you. Should you have told us? Honestly, I think, we find ourselves in certain situations because it’s where fate wants us to be. It’s what’s destined to happen, so thinking the woulda, coulda, shoulda of life is useless. This is your storm to face, Roxy, and face it you will. Will it be hard? You bet your ass it will be. But, quitting isn’t an option. Rest if you must, sweetheart, but never ever quit, not on yourself, and not on him.”
“I’m afraid.”
“You wouldn’t be human if you weren’t, sweetheart. He may be lost for a while, but he’ll find his way back, just like Jake did. Remember, behind a strong man is an even stronger woman. Meanwhile, you just sit tight and wait. It’s in the waiting that your strength is tested. While I hate life is making you wait again, I’d like to think, I’ve raised you up to be more than this storm. So, what do ya say?”
With quivering lips, I say, “Adapt, improvise, and overcome.”
“Outstanding, sweetheart.”
He embraces me for so long and so tightly. It’s as though he’s making sure the last morsel of fear leaves my body as the last tear drops on my face. I’m not saying fear will not come knocking, I’m sure it will, but for now…for now, I’m more than this storm….
I’m more than this fear….
I’m more than everything negative swirling in my brain.
When I’m all cried out, we stand and walk over to the nurse’s station. The nurse behind the desk gives us directions to get to the ICU. Seeing the red phone on the wall next to a double door, I know we’ve reached our destination. I’m preparing myself, expecting the worst, but hoping for the best. Hope is the only thing I can really hang on to right now…while I wait.
After Uncle Jack picks up the phone, t
he double doors open, and we go straight to another nurse’s station. The nurse politely guides us to Cody’s room, and no amount of preparation could’ve helped me with seeing his broken and battered body. There are machines everywhere, his finger’s hooked up to something, wires of some kind are hooked up to his chest. His eyes are swollen shut, the left one worse than the other. His knee is heavily bandaged as well as his right hand. His face is a plethora of white bandages, blue and purple bruises and scratches. Every inch of him is covered, including his lips that I love so much, because now an oxygen mask covers them. I’m glued to where I am, the desire to move is there, to run toward him and touch whatever part of his body I can, but my heart is overwhelmed with all the things attached to him. A beeping sound echoes in the quiet, causing me to jump, while my uncle becomes rigidly still next to me when the nurse walks in.
“Excuse me, when will he wake up?” I asks quietly, afraid I’ll wake him up.
She stills for a second as she stares at me, but corrects herself when Uncle Jack clears his throat, waking her up from her mini-daydreaming moment.
“It’s hard to tell. We’ll find out in a couple of days. Let’s hope the swelling goes down fairly quickly.” Looking at Cody she continues, “You’re welcome to stay if you’d like.” She turns and looks directly at my uncle.
“Roxy, why don’t you stay, and I’ll track down everyone else.”
With a brief embrace, he makes his way out while the nurse stands there fussing over Cody’s IV lines. She’ll glance my way every now and then with a longing in her eyes I can’t place, and at this point, I don’t care much. My mind can only register Cody.
“Why don’t you sit on his left side, so you can at least hold his hand? Do you want a blanket? It tends to get cold in here.” She gently smiles at me.
Why does her smile look familiar? It feels familiar. After blinking twice, I shake my head, clearing unimportant things fogging my brain.
