Chapter Nineteen
WE SET OFF on our drive home, even though it’s only a little after four in the afternoon. Ren clicks on the heater to take away the chill of the approaching evening. It’s warm and intimate in the small space. Ren and I are finally alone.
“You’ve been very quiet today,” Ren says.
“It was a lot to process.” In truth, I’m utterly stunned.
“I know you have questions. I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
I’m not sure where to start, so I begin with the one thing that’s hanging over my head. “You’re married.”
“Yes. I won’t leave her, and I won’t divorce her. I can’t. I just can’t.”
“I thought you were divorced, that your wife wasn’t in the picture. Looking back, I realize I assumed it. You never said you were divorced.”
“No.”
“Will she get better?”
He’s quiet for too long before answering. “No. She will never recover or be who she once was. She has irreversible brain damage. She’s lived much longer than expected. Her liver’s failing. That’s why she has a yellowish tint to her skin.”
“Your father said she was in an accident.”
“Yes. Allie was an avid cyclist. She went for a ride every morning before anyone was up. She said it cleared her head, prepared her for the day. She never missed. If something came up and she was forced to miss her ride, she said the whole day felt wrong.”
“You must’ve married young.”
“We did. I was twenty-two, Allie was twenty-one. We’d been married for six years before the accident happened. Ethan was five, and Kate was three. I’d just opened up Exodus, and we’d just bought our dream home. It was a risky venture. I was working night and day to make it a success.”
“Were you happy?” I ask.
“Yeah. We were. Really happy.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me too. She’s still here, and yet she’s not. And she never will be again. I hate seeing her like that. Allie would’ve preferred death over the state she’s in now. She has no life. She’s under a DNR and an AND.”
“I would feel the same way. No one would want to live like that. DNR is do not resuscitate, but what’s an AND?”
“Allow natural death. The hospital does nothing to keep her alive. She’s only treated for comfort.
The problem is, they can only give her so much sedative.
They won’t cause her death by overdosing her.
The brain damage is so severe, her responses are wild.
Like she’s a frightened animal, scared of predators. Every human is a predator.”
“I feel so sorry for her.”
“It haunts me every single day of my life. I don’t want this for her.
If she was thinking clearly and aware, I know she’d hate it with passion.
When someone suffers a brain injury like Allie did, there are two issues.
First, there’s the initial impact and whatever damage it may have caused.
Then there are the complications. In Allie’s case, swelling of the brain was a major issue.
The doctors performed a craniectomy. That means they removed part of the skull to relieve the pressure on the brain.
While that probably saved her life, it also left her permanently disabled.
Of course, the brain swelling is considered a secondary injury.
The initial injury itself caused instant brain damage and the craniectomy was never meant to reverse it.
Regardless, they had to remove a fist-sized portion of her brain due to damage from the initial injury.
Some people recover and are able to live a limited life.
They’re never the same, but they function to a degree.
We waited for Allie to come back to us. She never did.
The damage was too much. Her body survived, but Allie didn’t. The woman I once knew is gone.”
“How did the accident happen?”
“It was a morning just like any other. She was out riding her bike as usual. She always wore reflective gear and a helmet. She was a stickler when it came to her safety. I never worried about her. The accident took place on a country road, a road that doesn’t see much traffic.
She was literally two minutes from home.
All I can figure is she was hot and sweaty after her ride and she was nearly home, so she removed her helmet.
It wasn’t like her to do something like that, but it’s my best guess as to what happened.
An older lady was on her way to work. It was dawn, the sun just coming up.
I imagine it was hard to see. The lady said she never saw Allie.
There was just a loud noise as she hit something while going full speed.
Allie was thrown, and the first thing to hit the pavement was her head. ”
An involuntary moan escapes my lips. How horrific.
“She was in the hospital, then the rehabilitation center for a little over six months. There was almost no progress at all during rehab. When we were finally able to take her home, we felt sure being in a familiar place and seeing her children would change everything. We tried for an entire year to care for her on our own. It was the hardest year of my life. My parents moved in to help me. My father had retired early, and while he has an excellent pension, it’s still a fixed income.
I refuse to take money away from their retirement years.
They still pay for things here and there, much more than I would like.
Dad insisted my couch was ‘downright uncomfortable’ and bought a new one.
They take the kids clothes shopping all the time.
Things like that. They don’t ask, they just do it.
But in order for me to survive on my own, I rely on the income from Exodus.
I had to keep working to make it succeed. ”
Ren pulls over onto a side road, parking the car. “I can’t talk about this and pay attention to my driving. It’s not safe.”
I don’t mention watching out for logs. He’s right. It’s not good to drive when you’re distracted.
We’re on an isolated country road. Darkness hasn’t fallen yet, but our surroundings feel heavy. I wish the only trickle of light was emanating from the stars above, that we could hold each other, comfort each other with physical contact.
But that’s out of the question. He’s married. I’m living Jane Eyre’s life. Without the happy ending. Actually, I’ve always thought that story was tragic.
“I wish… I wish that…” I can’t voice my thoughts. Sitting in the confines of his car makes my attraction for him shoot through the roof. I can hear his breathing, slow and steady. I can smell his divine cologne. I can feel the warmth from his body. This is torture.
“I know,” is all Ren says.
“Keep talking, please. Why was having Allie at home hard?”
“She was in a wheelchair. She couldn’t speak or walk.
She had limited use of her hands, not enough to do anything for herself.
She could lift her arms but didn’t really have control of them.
She’s still able to swallow, so we can feed her food that’s been through a blender.
We can give her sips of water. We had to do everything for her.
Feed her, change her, bathe her, and take care of restroom needs.
While I was at work, my mom and dad had to take care of her, as well as Ethan and Kate.
It was overwhelming. Allie had no idea who we were.
If something upset her, she’d do like she did today.
She’d start screaming frantically. The kids didn’t understand.
They were too young at the time, and it scared them.
They wanted their mother to hold them, to talk to them, to smile at them, and to play with them.
We really believed her children would have the power to bring her back to life, and we encouraged the kids to touch her and talk to her. We were hoping for a miracle.”
“What happened?”
“Some days she was calm, almost serene. She was relaxed, and she’d sleep peacefully.
But those days were the exception. Her reactions became worse, more out of control and more frequent.
She could barely sleep at night. She was restless, agitated, paranoid, and anxious.
It’s known as sundowning. She acted as though she was desperately scared of us.
She’d curl up as tight as she could, like she thought we were going to hurt her.
It became really hard to care for her daily needs.
Simply changing her clothes was a struggle. ”
“Couldn’t you medicate her to calm her down?”
“This was medicated.”
Oh.
“We tried several different drugs. Nothing seemed to help. We didn’t want her to be so sedated that she’d never have the opportunity to improve.
We hired a home health nurse, but nothing changed.
Allie was scaring the kids on a daily basis.
We realized it was no way for them to live. They were seriously traumatized.”
“So you found a facility that would take excellent care of her?”
“It wasn’t that easy. The first place we took her to was awful.
I went to visit her, and she was terribly neglected, sitting in her own waste for hours on end, hair unwashed, food spilled on her nightgown.
They were poorly staffed and didn’t have enough hands to take care of everyone.
I took her out of there and admitted her to Tranquility House.
It’s ridiculously expensive, but she has the best care money can buy.
They keep me updated constantly on her condition and call me if they feel I’m needed.
I moved into my parents’ condo so I could be close to Allie and also to the restaurant.
My parents live in my home and take care of my kids.
I’m there whenever I can be. It’s the best we can do for now. ”
“I can’t imagine living the way you do.”
He breathes in and out heavily. “I don’t have a choice.”
No, he doesn’t.
But I do. “What do you want from me, Ren?”
“Friendship. Companionship.”
“And that’s all?”
“It’s all I have to give right now.”
“You do realize this is my second relationship, literally months apart, where the man turns out to be married.”
One hand wanders over his face, rubbing his jawline. “I do. And I’m sorry. I really am.”
And yet he pursued me anyway. Knowing the similarities between the two situations, surely knowing how hard it would be for me.
I hold my tongue, not allowing it to lash out and hurt him in the same way I’m hurting.
The old Bree would’ve raged at him right about now.
She would’ve given him a piece of her mind for stringing her along.
“How dare you do this to me!” would’ve been repeated several times.
I would’ve turned on the waterworks for sympathy.
I would’ve taken him on a worldwide guilt trip.
But I don’t want to be Bree the Belligerent.
The new-and-improved Bree does none of those things. I’m determined to think things through before I respond, to not make the same mistakes I made in the past. To keep my dignity. And to never cause him further pain.
“I’m sorry too.” I face forward in my seat. “Please take me home.”
“Bree…I…”
“Please take me home,” I repeat, cutting him off. This is impossible. We are impossible. I can’t live this way.
We’re both lost in our own thoughts as we travel back to Portland.
When we’re in front of my townhome, I turn to face him. “This is no way to live, Ren. You’re torturing yourself. Do you really think Allie would want you to live this way? To put yourself on hold?”
He thinks it over for several moments, the silence in the car thick. He looks me directly in the eyes.
“I won’t leave her, Bree. Please don’t ask me to. I can’t do it.”
“Even if it means living your life alone?”
“Yes,” he says with a firm nod. “I’m sorry.”
I wanted a faithful man. I found one. Too bad his faithfulness is not directed toward me.
The anger that was bubbling inside me fizzes out and dies. It seeps out of my body, leaving me limp and weak. I allow it to leave because I don’t want to say something I’ll regret.
So that’s it then.
“I respect your decision. I really do. You’re a good man. The best. But this is goodbye,” I whisper softly.
“This doesn’t have to be goodbye. We can still…”
“No, we can’t.”
I exit the warmth of the car, a place where I’m surrounded by Ren’s strength, and enter the cold, cold world.
Alone again.