This is Living (Living #1.5)

by Melody Dawn

  It’s ridiculous, but I want to laugh like I always do when people see us for the first time

  Not waiting for him to reach me, I walk towards him. Whatever he has to say, I want to hear alone.

  Extending a hand, he says, “Hey Dr. Reece, how are you holding up?”

  I doubt he really wants my real answer so I give the standard answer: “Fine, thanks.”

  He jumps right in with his postsurgical report. “Mrs. Reece is doing well. I performed a laparoscopic D&C with mostly normal results. My abnormal findings were endometriosis in the uterus and on the left ovary. I feel that the endometrial tissue is what caused the placenta abruption. I excised the tissue and she shouldn’t have any problems for a while.

  We can talk about it more later in my office. She’s in recovery right now…probably for at least 45 minutes more. I did a lot of work so she’s in some pain. Check with the recovery room nurse for where you should go next.”

  He stops for a moment, then puts his hand out and says, “I’m sorry for your loss. Page me if you have any questions or if Chloe needs anything.”

  I nod my head, not saying anything, although I know as a medical professional I should ask questions. Right now, my focus is on getting to Chloe, I can ask questions later.

  I motion to Connor for us to go and as we’re walking out, Dr. Gibbs turns and says, “You gave me a bit of a start there. I thought I was seeing double for a minute…until I realized he’s dressed in civvies and you’re in scrubs.”

  Nodding, I give the requisite grin, and he turns back to go on his way. Connor and I follow until we reach the door leading to the recovery room.

  “I don’t know how long I’ll be in here or if I can even get back there at all. You don’t have to wait. Thanks for coming and sitting with me. And the pep talk.”

  As I’m speaking, he’s typing out a text with an annoyed look on his face. “Go see about your wife. I’ll wait.”

  I look over at his phone and he says, “Don’t. Go and check on Chloe…and find out which room she’s going to…I’ll wait here.”

  Connor reaches around me and hits the buzzer to alert the staff someone is waiting for information about a patient. I decide to quit questioning him about whatever is bothering him…not that I don’t care…he obviously doesn’t want to talk about it. And I need to concentrate on Chloe.

  A couple of minutes later, someone opens the door and gives me an update on her. They feel that it would be best that I wait for her in her assigned room…something I’m not a fan of, but I don’t push it…I’m not an expert on recent surgical patients. Also, if I’m telling the truth, I’m not sure I can handle seeing her in uncontrolled pain.

  Connor and I make our way to room 1803 and as we sit there talking, everything is hitting me and I feel sick. I’m not looking forward to the conversations following her waking up. Or the fact that I don’t know what her mood is going to be towards me as well.

  Sometime later, when she arrives, all those feelings are pushed aside. They transfer her to the patient bed and though she moans a little from the movement, she doesn’t wake. Connor and I sit there in silence until I feel my phone vibrating. Taking my phone out, I see I have a page regarding a patient.

  I call back, praying this is something I can address over the phone. Of course, it isn’t. Fucking hell. I have to leave. Looking over at Connor, I have an idea.

  “Do you have to be somewhere anytime soon?”

  With a weird look, he asks, “No, why?”

  “I’ve got a couple of patients I have to see. I need you to stay here in case Chloe wakes up. I don’t want her to be alone when she does. She’s going to be disoriented and in pain.”

  He quickly agrees and I move on telling him my idea. Except now he’s looking at me like I’ve lost my mind…maybe I have, but right now I’m going to do whatever I have to do to make sure I’m here when she wakes…even if it’s not actually me.

  Sitting in Chloe’s room after her surgery, I’m staring at my phone rereading mine and Madison’s messages. I hear Jayson curse under his breath and then he asks me if I have to be somewhere.

  Since I’m sure as hell not going home right now, I say, “No.”

  And then the next thing he says has me thinking he’s drunk or high.

  “You want me to be you if she wakes up? No way. What if she starts saying something you don’t want anyone else to hear? And she isn’t going to fall for that. She will know it’s not you in a heartbeat.”

  He doesn’t respond for a moment and I’m thinking I got through to him until he says, “No, she won’t. She’ll be drugged from the anesthesia and pain medication. You don’t have to say anything. Just hold her hand or something.”

  Now, I think he’s really lost it. “You want me to touch her, too?”

  He laughs and says, “Yes. I’ve seen you do it before.”

  Honestly, I think all the stress from his job, he and Chloe fighting, and now losing the baby has screwed up his brain.

  “All right,” I agree with a grin. “But if she falls in love with me, I’m not to blame.”

  Rolling his eyes, he says, “Whatever, dickhead. Just do it. I’ll be back soon. Text me if she starts waking up and I’ll try to get here as fast as possible.”

  Stopping to tap out a message on his phone, he winks and says, “Just think of it as something you can add to the list to give her shit about later.”

  “Whatever, dude, and don’t wink at me. It’s creeping me out.”

  With a laugh he walks out and I’m left alone with my sister-in-law who may wake up and think I’m her husband…yeah, that’s going to be great. Of course, he is right. Once she’s well, it is definitely going on the “Give Chloe shit list.” It needs some new material anyway.

  I click on the TV and watch some reality TV on Bravo. I would rather be tortured than admit this to anyone, but actually I like it. How can I help it when Madison was always watching all of the Housewife shows; those women are whacked and fucking hilarious to watch. Since the only other person in this room is drugged out of her mind, I’m probably safe. Still I look over every once in a while to make sure she hasn’t woken up…I would never live it down if she saw me watching this show.

  An hour goes by and Jayson still isn’t back yet. Chloe keeps moving around in the bed and groaning; I’m guessing from the pain. I’m engrossed in a catfight when I hear her voice.

  Looking up, I see her staring at me. She doesn’t say anything or let on that she knows it’s me so maybe Jayson is right. Also, her eyes look pretty glazed over from the drugs so this might work after all.

  She closes her eyes for a moment and I breathe a sigh of relief. Except that relief is gone as quick as it came when I hear her whispered words, “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  Hell, what do I say here?

  I try to think of what Jayson would do. “Uh, I wouldn’t leave you alone…you know that.”

  Tears start trickling down her cheeks and all I can think is: Shit, fuck…and any other curse word I can’t think of right now.

  Trying to come up with something to do, I grab a tissue and hand it to her. Wiping her face, she puts it on the rolling tray next to her. As she moves, she groans and now I’m starting to freak out.

  I send a message to Jayson that he better listen to or I’m going to kill him.

  Connor: She’s awake. Get the hell back here now!

  Turning back to her, I ask, “Are you in pain? Do you need me to call the nurse?”

  She shakes her head no and asks, “Can you lie down with me?”

  Hell no, I cannot. That’s it…I’m murdering my brother. I always wanted to be an only child anyway.

  Backing away from the bed, I answer, “I don’t think so. I might hurt you. I’ll wait right here.”

  And that triggers triple the tears than before. Her next words make me feel like a bastard and amps up my incentive to put Jayson away permanently.

  “I don’t blame you for not wanting to. I can see you’re
mad at me. I would be too if you treated me like I did you.”

  Not wanting to hear any more of their personal business or make her cry, I inch over to the bed like it’s a bomb about to explode.

  Look, just lie down…she doesn’t know it’s you.

  Looking down at her, I say, “No, no, it’s fine. I’m not mad at you.” Although you’re going to be mad at me when I’m done with your husband. “I just don’t want to hurt you since you’re in pain.”

  Gingerly, I lie down next to her and she leans against me. I’ve got my arms folded in front of me and I think: This isn’t so bad.

  Until she says, “I think you are mad. You’re all stiff and you aren’t touching me.

  Shaking my head slightly, I know it’s suck it up time. Jayson would do this for Madison in this situation. So I turn towards her and wrap my arm lightly across her waist and the other above her head.

  In return, she leans her head on my chest and her next words make me laugh. “You smell funny.”

  I know exactly what she’s thinking. I don’t wear the same cologne Jayson wears and that’s what she’s smelling. “Well, I’m trying something new; I thought you would like it.”

  “It’s ok. I like your usual stuff better, “she says in a sleepy voice.

  “You need to sleep, princess,” I say, really getting into the role. I know that’s what Jayson would say.

  Grabbing onto my shirt, she mutters, “Ok. Don’t go anywhere though.”

  She hangs onto my shirt and I’m thinking it’s a bit surreal that I’m in this bed. I tell myself to get over it. It’s not like I’m screwing her or anything…I’m performing a public service.

  I switch off the screaming TV ladies and sit back for the long haul. My phone beeps with an incoming message…and it’s not good news.

  Jayson: I can’t right now. I’ll be back soon.

  My eyes narrow at the screen and I consider calling the asshole and letting him know he doesn’t have long to live. What the fuck ever…I’ll tell him when I see him.

  Suddenly tired, I set my phone down and lie back. This bed sucks and my back is hurting, which you would think would keep me from sleeping. Maybe if we both go to sleep, we won’t have to talk and she won’t touch me anymore than she already is.

  Now I’m rolling my eyes. It’s not like she is going to jump me. She just had surgery. Plus it’s Chloe. When did I become such a little bitch anyway?

  Making up my mind to go with the flow, I settle in more comfortably and Chloe cuddles into me. I close my eyes again thinking she is asleep until I hear, “I love you.”

  I freeze and then think: Ok, I do love her…as a sister…so I can say it back. Jesus, this is fucking weird.

  She’s just had a huge loss and surgery plus she’s drugged. So I do what any other man would do, I hope, and say, “Love you too, babe.”

  “Did you just call me babe?”

  My eyes pop open…Jayson never calls her babe. I call Madison, “babe.”

  I look down at her and her eyes are still closed so quickly say, “Uh yeah.”

  She doesn’t answer and I breathe a sigh of relief. That was too close. Where is he at? Yeah, it looks like I’m going away for life since Texas frowns on fratricide.

  Thirty minutes later, the fucker finally walks back in Chloe’s room.

  With a grin, he says, “You look pretty comfortable there.”

  “What can I say? She loves me. She even told me so. Since I had to be you, I said I loved her back.”

  His eyes narrow a bit and he looks like he’s getting pissed. Since I’m not a complete ass, I quickly move on.

  “Jesus, J, I thought she caught me a couple of times. She told me I smell funny and then I called her babe, which she immediately picked up on. I thought maybe she knew, but she kept falling back to sleep.”

  Gingerly, I pry my shirt out of Chloe’s hands and unwrap myself from around her. Jayson moves in and lies down next to her and I’m glad that’s over. My nerves are shot; I think I need a drink.

  I tap him on the leg and say with a smirk, “Ok, I’ve got to go. Switching chicks was fun; we should do it again sometime when Chloe’s lucid.”

  Jayson is so predictable. “In your dreams, fuckface. Go home before I tell your wife you’ve become a swinger with Chloe as your first partner.”

  “It was your idea. See ya, asshole.”

  “Yeah, whatever. Bye.”

  I open the door to walk out and my conscience kicks in. Walking back in, I see a look of surprise come across his face.

  Instead of answering, I lean down and give him a one armed hug and say, “Sorry this happened. I wish it would have worked out. Tell Chloe I came by.”

  He nods without answering. And I know he’s grateful for the sentiment. With that, I walk out and head for my car wondering what will be waiting for me at home.

  It’s sometime in the late evening when I’m awakened from pain shooting through my lower half. My abdomen along with my uterus and other girly parts feel like they have been thoroughly abused. While the pain isn’t unbearable, it definitely isn’t comfortable either.

  For a moment, I’m disoriented to what it all means. Then flashes from earlier events bombard me and my confusion turns to pain, only this isn’t the physical kind. The scene from the doctor’s office plays like a movie on repeat in my mind. From me screaming into the phone, yelling at the doctor, to the look of despair on Jayson’s face as he met me at the ER entrance...it doesn’t stop. Especially the look on his face….a look I put there.

  It was evident he was distraught about the loss of the baby, but at the same time I could see he was beating himself up for my being alone when I received the news. Remembering his look of devastation has shame coursing through me. .

  Pain shoots through my chest and I gasp at the severity of it. It forces my eyes open and what I see cracks my heart the rest of the way open. I see a large tanned hand holding mine and placed on top of my lost baby bump.

  Unable to hold them back any longer, tears fall from my eyes and the gravity of the loss of our baby finally forces its way to the surface. Trying not to move so he won’t know I’m awake, I pull in small breaths through my nose, hoping to calm myself down.

  I think I’ve fooled him until I feel a squeeze from the hand holding mine. That’s all it takes…tears, gasps, and sobs pour out until finally I’m spent. He still hasn’t said a word and as I grieve, he never lets go of me. Instead he gives me strength just through the link of our hands.

  Finally, I get myself under control and try to gather the strength to look at him. Just like years ago, when I couldn’t look in a mirror due to my past, I can’t look him in the eye. What will I find there? Will there be hate, recriminations, pity?

  Instead of waiting for me to gather my resolve, he pulls my chin up to where I can see his stunning green eyes…eyes that I’ve seen every emotion in over the years. When I look deep into them, I see one thing: love.

  Laughing inside, I want to shake my head at this turn of events. Why I doubted him, I don’t know. He has never shown me anything but his love and devotion since I met him. Although at this moment, I’m not sure I’m worthy of it.

  He bends and places his lips on mine and presses down for a moment. It’s only a slight kiss, but it holds all the answers I’ve been worried about since I woke up: he doesn’t blame me and he still loves me.

  Leaning back, I snuggle into him as much as I can without hurting the incisions from my surgery. I want to say so much, yet at the same time I don’t. I don’t have to…he breaks the silence for me.

  “I’m glad you’re awake. I was starting to think you weren’t going to wake up until tomorrow. Of course, I might be a little responsible for that; I hit the button on your PCA pump a few times when you kept groaning in your sleep,” he indicates the button on the cord lying across my lap.

  “I guess that explains why I’m not hurting too badly; are you trying to drug me,” I ask teasingly?

  “Yeah, you got me.
”

  It’s evident from our stilted banter that neither of us knows what to say. I decide that I just need to get it out there. Not knowing what he is going to say scares me the most. While he obviously still loves me, I worry he might not be able to get past the blame I placed on his shoulders all while ignoring the fact that he was dealing with a loss, too. In other words, can he forgive me for being a cold selfish bitch?

  “You can do this…just say it,” I give myself an inner pep talk.

  Picking up his hand, I place a kiss across the back of it. “I need to apologize to you for how I treated you and for the things I said on the phone. Also, for blaming you for the fact that I was alone. Deep down, I knew it wasn’t something you planned. But, selfishly, I wanted someone to hurt as much as I was.”

  He doesn’t say anything for a moment and fear seizes my insides. I should have kept my mouth shut. Opening my mouth to backtrack so I don’t feel so foolish, he starts to speak before I can get the words out.

  “I won’t say it didn’t hurt. It hurt me more than anything in the world.”

  Hearing his words, I shut my eyes tightly to hold back my emotions. I don’t stop him though; I deserve to hear whatever he has to say.

  “I don’t think this is a good time to discuss everything. You’ve just woken up from surgery and anesthesia can make you emotional, not to mention the pain meds. You need to have a clear head for when we talk.”

  And now, I feel like I’m going to have a heart attack. My heart is pounding so hard; I don’t know how he doesn’t hear it. Forgetting any love I may have seen in his eyes, I voice my greatest fear. “Are you leaving me? If you are, just tell me and get it over with. I can’t stand not knowing.”

  My whole body stiffens while I wait for his answer. I prepare myself for a blow, but it never comes. Instead, I feel him move away from me and watch as he comes around to the other side of the bed.

  I close my eyes against what I think is getting ready to happen.