The Light to My Darkness - Chapter 38
Monday
James
We used a different entrance to the hospital to avoid the waiting room full of people I couldn't face. I followed my dad through the maternity ward full of crying babies, until we stopped in front of a window.
I peered into the room. It wasn't like where Scarlett had been kept.
She had been healthy, born a week after her due date.
These were tiny babies hooked up to tubes and wires.
They were all so small. One of them was mine.
But I still couldn't feel anything. I looked up at the sign above the window.
Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. These newborns were sick.
They were dying, just like my wife. Twitch.
"There," my dad said and pointed to a baby in the corner.
I stared at my son through the glass. There were tubes attached to him everywhere.
Tubes to help him breathe. Tubes to help him hold on.
He had my dark hair. And my nose. But I felt nothing.
Nothing except for a familiar itch in the back of my head.
A feeling of emptiness. A desire to do anything to escape from numbness.
My son needed me. But I didn't need him. I took a step back from the glass. All I needed was my wife. And she was dying. I could almost feel it. Like a part of my own heart was failing. The side of my face twitched.
"He looks a lot like you," my dad said.
I shook my head. None of this felt real. The tubes and wires were the only things keeping him alive. He was so small. He'd probably fit in my hand. He was too young to be born. It wasn't right. None of this was right. He needed to be in his mother's arms. Not shut off from the world. Like me.
"What did they say when they told you about the baby?" I asked.
"That he has to stay in the NICU for awhile.
He has anemia and they've already done one blood transfusion.
But his lungs are fairly strong so he doesn't need a ventilator.
Just that little machine over his mouth.
A CPAP I believe they said. They also mentioned that skin to skin contact is good for preemies, if you want to hold him. "
Preemies. I still felt nothing. "Is he going to live?"
"The doctors seem optimistic."
I nodded and turned away from the window. "What did they say about Penny?"
"That she's still in surgery."
"That's it?"
"And that they had to do an emergency C-section. That's all they said. Come say hello to her parents. They could use a familiar face."
I nodded and walked away from the window without looking back at my son.
"Daddy!" Scarlett yelled as she scrambled out of Mrs. Taylor's lap.
I lifted her into my arms without really looking at her.
Mrs. Taylor's face was pinched, like she had been crying and willed herself to stop. I didn't know what to say to her. Or to Penny's dad, who had just stood up.
But I didn't have to say a word. He just gave me a nod, clapped me on the back, and sat back down next to his wife.
I couldn't sit here with them. I couldn't comfort them in any way.
My daughter squirmed in my arms. It was like she could sense I didn't want her there.
Like she felt like a dead weight. Like she no longer belonged in my arms. I needed to be out of the hospital.
What I really needed was a drink. I tried to hide the twitch of my eye.
Someone clearing their throat made me turn my head. A doctor I didn't recognize had just walked through the swinging doors. He looked exhausted. Like it was his own life hanging in the balance.
I put Scarlett down, even though she started to cry. "Someone take her," I snapped as I walked over to him.
The doctor eyed me curiously. "James Hunter?" he asked.
"Is my wife okay?" The desperation in my tone didn't even make him flinch. He was the complete opposite of my lawyer. Composed. Used to delivering bad news to families.
He looked over my shoulder at the whole waiting room coming over toward us. "We had no choice but to put her on life support." His eyes met mine again.
I heard Penny's mom start to cry.
"Mr. Hunter, we need to have a word in private." He nodded down the hall.
"What does that mean exactly?" I asked as I followed him. "Did some of her organs shut down? Is she breathing on her own?"
"There is no easy way to put this, so I'll be frank with you, Mr. Hunter," he said as he came to a stop, out of earshot of my family.
"There were high levels of poison in her blood.
We pumped her stomach, but we're not sure how long it's been in her system, or what the extent of the damage is.
We sent some lab samples out. We should hear back shortly. "
"Poison? What are you talking about? Did someone poison my wife? Why aren't the police here? Why aren't you telling them this?"
"Mr. Hunter," he said and put his hand on my shoulder. "Nine times out of ten this is an intentional thing."
I stared at him. "Exactly. Someone intentionally poisoned my wife. We need to call the police."
The doctors eyes softened. "I meant intentional on her part. Suicide," he added, when I had no reaction. "There's no reason to suspect foul play."
I shook my head.
"Have you noticed any signs of depression or..."
"No." I shrugged his hand off my shoulder. "I need to see my wife."
"She's unresponsive. She's not awake, let alone speaking, and..."
"I need to see my wife," I said again, cutting him off.
He nodded. "We just moved her to room 502 of the ICU. She can only have one visitor at a time."
"When is she going to wake up?" I had already started walking toward the elevators.
"It's not a question of when, Mr. Hunter. It's a question of if. And I don't have an answer for you."
I slammed my fist against the button with an up arrow.
"Mr. Hunter?"
I tried to ignore him and hit the button again. The doors slowly opened.
"Some of the damage is irreversible. We had to remove..."
I stepped on. The dinging of the doors closing blocked out the rest of the sentence. I didn't care what they had to remove. I didn't care if they amputated her fucking leg. I just needed her heart to still be beating. I needed her to be in my arms.
As soon as the elevator doors opened, I ran down the hall. "Room 502," I said to a nurse standing at a desk.
She pointed down the hall.
I continued to run until I saw the room marked 502. I pushed through the door and froze. Penny. Her face was pale. She had as many tubes and wires as my son had. But this time I felt something. Agony. An ache in my chest. I closed my eyes. This isn't happening.
Suicide, my lawyer had said . Intentional , the doctor said.
I walked over and put my hand on top of hers.
Ice.
The side of my face twitched. My wife had always been so warm. Her skin. Her soul. Come back to me. My tears stung my eyes and I dropped her hand.
"Is it true?" I said into the silence. "Did you want to leave me? Did you hate our life that much?"
I needed to hear her voice. I needed to see her smile. I placed my forehead on her hand. She didn't even smell like my wife. She smelled like hand sanitizer and death.
I stepped away from her.
She wanted to die.
I buried my hands in my hair.
She hated her life.
I backed up, bumping into one of the machines.
She didn't want me.
"Why, Penny? Why was this life not enough? Why wasn't I enough?" I realized I was shouting and no one could hear me. What the fuck was I doing? Why would I believe the word of some incompetent lawyer? And a doctor that probably couldn't even distinguish my wife from any other patient?
I stepped forward and knelt by Penny's hospital bed.
"I'm sorry. Baby, please forgive me." I grabbed her hand again and tried to ignore the feeling of ice.
"I know you didn't do this. I'm sorry." I touched the side of her cold face.
"We have a son. Wake up." I slid my hand to the side of her neck. "You have to wake up now. We need you."
She lay there, frozen in time.
"I need you." I closed my eyes. I couldn't look at her like this. "Baby. You know I can't do this alone."
"Please be gentle," a nurse said from behind me.
I didn't realize how hard I was holding on to her.
I let go of the side of her neck and winced at the white spots I had left on her skin.
I quickly stood up. The worst part was that Penny didn't even look peaceful.
She looked like she was in pain. I slowly backed out of the room.
I couldn't be here. I couldn't breathe in this fucking hospital.