by K. A. Berg
Quinn gasps audibly, and her eyes fill with tears. None of us wanted this conversation to start this way. Alex pulls her into his side as he grabs a hold of my arm in support for what is about to come next. Taking a deep breath, I give a nod for the doctor to continue.
“Ms. Taylor, as you know, Ms. Mitchell has given you medical power of attorney, all healthcare decisions are your responsibility for the time being.”
Quinn gives a halfhearted nod. “That stupid form wasn’t ever supposed to matter,” she whispers. “I only signed it because she said over her dead body would she allow her mother to make important decisions in her life…” A few tears slide down her cheek.
After giving her a moment, the doctor continues, “As I said, Ashley has several severe injuries. Let’s start with the least complicated first. Her spleen was ruptured in the accident, causing a large amount of internal bleeding, which led to hypovolemic shock. That’s typical with a lot of blood loss. We removed her spleen due to the rupture and gave her several units of blood. She has also sustained a punctured lung from a broken rib, which subsequently led to a collapsed lung. We inserted a chest tube to remove the excess air. Right now, Ashley is on a ventilator to help her breathe while her lung recovers. She shouldn’t need it for more than a day or two, but we’ll monitor her progress closely.”
Good God, please let that be all.
“Ashley’s left arm was also broken, and an orthopedic surgeon was needed to repair it due to the severity of the break, which required screws and pins to be set. Her arm will be monitored for signs of infection, just in case any debris from the accident was missed during surgery. Her right knee was also partially dislocated but was repaired after her arm, and she won’t require any major reconstructive surgery for it. For now, she just needs to keep it elevated and free from pressure. All of the injuries I’ve mentioned should heal just fine, provided there are no complications. Our main concern right now is the injury to her brain.”
Quinn can’t hold back her sobs any longer, and I can’t say I blame her. My poor Ashley. She’s so broken. I wish it were me in here. I would give anything to trade places with her. Based on everything the doctor’s said so far, I know deep down there’s nothing good left to say. It sounds as though he hasn’t even given us the worst of the news yet, and he hasn’t even mentioned anything about the baby.
Once Alex seems to have Quinn calmed down, the doctor continues once more, “Ashley’s brain went without a sufficient amount of oxygen for a while and also suffered trauma from the impact itself. There’s some swelling. We’ll be watching closely to make sure the swelling doesn’t get to a point where we need to alleviate the pressure by opening her skull. The brain hypoxia is more of a concern right now. We won’t know the extent of the damage it caused until she wakes up—if she wakes up. More often than not, people with extreme hypoxia have severe to permanent brain damage. We’ve done what we can, but from this point on, it’s all on her.”
Hearing those last words, my knees buckle, and Alex struggles to guide me into a seat on my way down. I don’t care that everyone can see the tears freefalling from my eyes. All I can think about is my beautiful, vibrant Ashley may never be the same. I’d rather have her hate me forever than wake up with brain damage—if she wakes up at all. God, this can’t be happening. No. No. No. A sudden loud sobbing pulls me from my thoughts of Ashley. I open my eyes to see Quinn and Alex kneeling in front of me, trying to comfort me, but I don’t hear anything other than the gut wrenching sobs all around me.
“Tag, calm down. She’s going to pull through. I know it,” Alex says, fighting back his own tears.
“She’s too stubborn to go like this, Tanner. She’s going to wake up,” Quinn adds.
It’s then I realize the loud sobs are coming from me. They’re trying to console me.
“What about the baby?” I ask, looking back up to the doctor.
The grim expression on his face is all I need to confirm my worst fears.
“The force of the accident caused the placenta to detach from the uterine wall. There wasn’t anything we could do by the time Ashley arrived. He was stillborn. We’re just thankful the abruption didn’t cause us to lose Ashley as well, which is very common. Part of the reason I was asking if you’d arrived is because we can allow you to spend some time with the baby and Ashley before we have to take him away,” he explains apologetically.
“Him?”
Ashley had never told me if she’d found out the sex of the baby. She’d barely told me anything at all about the pregnancy. She’d been too busy telling me it was too late, and they didn’t need me. I’d gladly step away now if it meant life for both of them.
“Yes, the baby was a boy. If you'd like, I can have the baby brought to Ashley’s room so you may spend a little bit of time with the two of them. I’m sorry this is all I have to offer you,” the doctor says sincerely while motioning for me to follow through the double doors behind him.
I look back at Quinn and Alex before heading through the doors. Quinn cries into Alex’s chest as he rubs her back. His eyes, filled with sympathy and sorrow, never leave mine. I would gladly take the look of disgust he’d been giving me for weeks instead if it meant this wasn’t really happening. Maybe this is one of my god-awful nightmares, and I’ll wake up soon to realize this was nothing but my subconscious telling me to get my shit together once again.
I know that isn’t the case as soon as the doctor leads me into Ashley’s room. She looks small and broken, lying in the middle of the bed, hooked up to tubes and wires and machines keeping her alive. There are so many wires.
God, this isn’t fucking fair! Why Ashley? Couldn’t this have been anyone other than her? Why her? Why me?
The doctor is explaining to me how she’s getting fluids, antibiotics, anti-inflammatories, and pain medication when there’s a small knock on the door. A nurse enters, carrying something small bundled in a blanket—my son. She gives me a grim smile while gingerly handing over this special little man. He’s barely as big as my hands.
I choke on a sob at my first glimpse of his perfect little face. He’s a handsome devil, despite his purple color. His head is smaller than my fist, and I’m terrified the slightest movement will break him. Then I remember I can’t break what’s already broken.
Placing my forehead against his, I let it all out. I cry for everything he’s lost, everything he’ll never experience because the world is an unfair place. I cry for the things I’ll never get to tell him, the lessons I’ll never get to teach him, the love he’ll never feel for anyone—the sort of love I feel for him and his mother. I cry for Ashley and the fact she’ll never get to see him, never get to hold him, and never get to smell him. I cry because, unlike me, she’ll never get to tell him to his face how much she loves him.
“I love you, buddy. I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you. I know Mommy tried though with everything she had. I know she would have done anything in the world to save you. We would have done anything. I’m so sorry you’ll never get to meet her. She’s amazing, you know. You got really lucky in the mommy department. You couldn’t have asked for a better one. She’s smart and beautiful and a pain in my ass, but I love her, and you would’ve too. I’m sorry that because I was an idiot, you had to pay the price,” I can’t help but weep as I lay the beautiful boy on his mommy’s chest, careful not to snag the blanket on any tubes or wires.
Looking at the two of them together makes me cry harder. My beautiful little family. Well, it would have been my beautiful family if I hadn’t been such an asshole. I sit there beside them, cataloging every detail of the moment, so I can tell Ashley all about it and all about him when she wakes up—from his thin white eyelashes to the curve of his lips that’s the same as his mother’s. My moment is cut short by a knock at the door, and the same nurse who brought him to me has returned to take him back, to take him from us forever.
“Please,” I plead with her.
“I’m sorry, but I have to,” she whispers, tea
rs in her eyes.
“Can’t I just have a few more minutes?” I ask, suddenly unable to contain my sobs again.
She slowly makes her way closer to me. “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how hard this is for you, but it’s only going to be harder the longer you have him.”
“I never really got to have him, did I?” I ask as I hand my son over to the woman, knowing full well it will be the last time I ever set eyes on him.
“No, I guess not,” she answers with a little sniffle, and I know she at least understands some of my pain.
I lay my head on the bed next to Ashley and hold her hand. I hear the door click closed behind me, telling me my son is now gone forever. How do I come back from this? How on Earth do I go forward without him? Without Ashley? What if she never wakes up? She already hated me before today. I can only imagine how she’ll feel if she wakes up.
Chapter Fourteen
Tanner
“Why hasn’t she woken up yet?” I ask the doctor when he comes around to check on Ashley the following afternoon. “She hasn’t even moved or twitched.”
“These things take time, Mr. Garrison,” he says, trying to placate me. “Everything looks good. Ashley’s vitals have been stable all night and all morning. Her arm doesn’t show any signs of infection, and the sutures from the splenectomy look like they’ve begun healing well. I’m ordering the removal of the chest tube. She just needs time right now. It’s only been a little over twenty-four hours since her surgeries.”
“The longer it takes her to wake up, the worse it is, right? The brain damage?” I ask, knowing fully well I don’t really want the answer.
“The brain is a miraculous thing, but nothing’s a guarantee when it comes to it either. Ashley could wake up completely fine in ten days, or she could wake with severe brain damage in five minutes. But yes, typically, the longer it takes Ashley to regain consciousness, the more damage there might be.” He squeezes my shoulder before leaving the room.
I squeeze Ashley’s uninjured hand and beg her, “Please, baby. Please wake up. I need you to open those beautiful eyes. It’s been too long since we’ve seen them. You need to fight. Fight like hell from wherever you are, and come back to us.”
Laying my head down next to our joined hands, I send out a silent prayer. Please, you’ve already taken my son. Don’t take the love of my life too!
I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I know, I’m being woken up by a knock on the door. When I look up, I see a gentleman introducing himself to Quinn, and I wonder when she and Alex got back from going home to shower and change.
Alex had tried to talk me into going with them, but I’d refused to leave Ashley’s side. I need to be here for her when she wakes up. She’s going to be devastated when she learns the news of the baby, and I don’t want her to be alone.
“Ms. Taylor, I’m Detective Wallis. I just wanted to come down and give you an update, regarding Ms. Mitchell’s case.” He shakes her hand.
After everything that’s happened over the last thirty-six hours, hearing the detective refer to Ashley as Ms. Mitchell only makes me angrier at myself. She shouldn’t be Ms. Mitchell anymore. I should have done right by her, by my son, and married her the minute she told me she was carrying my child. She should have a giant sparkling ring on her hand, not a cast holding her bones together. If I had done that, she wouldn’t even be in this bed.
“The driver of the other vehicle will be released from the hospital into our custody today. He only sustained minor injuries from the crash,” the detective informs Quinn.
“Of course he did,” she scoffs.
“He’ll be booked on charges of aggravated assault with a motor vehicle and vehicular manslaughter. We’ll hold him until arraignment.”
The charges don’t sound severe enough for the catastrophic damage he’s caused. He still gets to breathe—hopefully in a cell for the rest of his life—while Ashley fights for her life, while my son will never get a chance at life or even the chance to breathe. The world really is a cruel place.
“We received the preliminary investigative report of the scene of the accident about an hour ago. I’m not sure how much information you were given originally, but you probably already know the accident was a side collision, and the point of impact was on the driver’s side, near the front fender and door. Older vehicles like the one Ms. Mitchell was driving don’t withstand this particular type of impact the way newer ones do, especially at the speed the other car was travelling. The frames crumble more easily, and the lack of side airbags make crashes like this much worse. Thankfully, Ms. Mitchell was able to make it out alive. We’ll make sure the prosecutor knows the extent of the injuries. Please rest assured we’ll get Ms. Mitchell the justice she deserves. This city has zero tolerance for driving while intoxicated, and the other driver was at almost double the legal limit.”
The conviction in his voice is great, but at the end of the day, none of it matters. What’s done is done, and nothing will change what we’ve lost.
“Here’s my card,” Detective Wallis says, handing Quinn his business card. “If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to call me. Again, I’m truly sorry for all you’ve been through.”
None of us says a word as Detective Wallis leaves the room. There’s really nothing to say. The three of us sit in the unbearable silence, listening to the beeping of all the machines hooked up to Ashley and the whooshing of the ventilator as it pumps oxygen into Ashley’s lungs. Then Alex’s phones rings, grabbing our attention.
Alex picks up. “Hello?” His face grows stern.
“Not now,” he says to the person on the other end of the line. “Don’t you think there are more important things needing his attention right now?” He grits his teeth. “I understand, but it’ll have to wait.” His voice rises in frustration. “Yes, okay. I’ll keep you updated.” He sighs, disconnecting the call.
Certain the call was about me, I look at him expectantly.
“That was Davis. They want to know when you’ll be back to do all the press conferences and the parade. Word’s gotten out about the accident, but nothing’s been released about the baby. He’s been calling me since last night, but I didn’t want you to have to deal with it yet,” he explains with sympathy in his eyes. He clearly doesn’t want to add anything to my already-full plate.
The audacity of these people. “Do they honestly think I give two shits about parades and interviews right now? If word about the accident has gotten out, then they should know why I’m too preoccupied to give a damn about anything else.”
“I know, Tag. But in their eyes, the team just won the Super Bowl, and their main man has dropped off the grid.”
“I don’t give a fuck what their thought process is. I’m not going anywhere until I know Ashley’s going to pull through this. I give these people everything they want, no questions asked. The least they can do is stand behind me right now.” I glare at him. “I need you to make them understand how serious I am.”
“Okay. I’ll relay the message to Davis,” he says as a nurse enters the room to check Ash’s vitals again. “You might want to consider taking a shower, though.”
“What part of ‘I’m not leaving until she opens her eyes’ don’t you understand?” I ask, annoyed.
“There’s a shower in the bathroom you can use, honey,” the nurse says while checking Ashley’s IV bag of antibiotics—well, I think they’re antibiotics. There are a slew of different things being injected into her at this point it’s hard to keep everything straight.
I like this nurse. She’s older, maybe in her early fifties, with graying hair. She’s motherly, unlike the younger two nurses who were here yesterday. They had been staring at me with stars in their eyes, despite the fact my girlfriend is lying here, fighting for her life, and my dead son is down in the morgue.
“You can use that one. No one will say anything to you. If they do, you tell them Darla said it was okay. I think it’s wonderful you don’t want to leave her
side. You don’t see that kind of dedication much these days.” She smiles sadly.
“Thank you, Darla,” I smile back. It’s probably a good thing she doesn’t know I’m the reason Ashley is even in this bed and under her care.
I turn to face Alex and Quinn after Darla has left. “You know, if she had been driving the BMW instead, she might not have been so badly injured. I can’t believe she hates me so much she won’t even drive a perfectly safe, brand new car… It might’ve saved her a lot of agony.”
“You don’t know that, Tanner,” Quinn says.
“You heard the detective. Older cars crumple in those types of collisions more often than not. I wish she hadn’t been so damn stubborn. I knew something bad was going to happen in her shitty-ass car.” I know I shouldn’t be angry with her about not using the BMW, but how many times had I told her the damn car wasn’t safe?
“What’s done is done. There’s nothing we can do about any of it now. Let’s just concentrate on what’s coming next, concentrate on Ashley,” Alex says, trying to be the sensible one.
I sigh. “This is going to be a long road.”
Alex claps me on the shoulder. “You don’t need to tell me. I’m a licensed physical therapist. I know how long and grueling the road is going to be better than most. She’s going to need everyone on her side.”
“I’m on her side. Someone just needs to convince her of that.”
Chapter Fifteen
Ashley
What the hell is going on? Everything is fuzzy. Pain… Oh my God, my entire body hurts like a bitch. I try to open my eyes, but I can’t. What the hell is wrong with me?
“How much longer until she wakes up?” a voice that sounds like a garbled version of Tanner’s asks. What’s he doing here? Who is he talking to?
“When she’s ready, Mr. Garrison. Everything’s still the same, and that’s a good thing.”
