Chapter 10 #4
Matt said nothing.
What could he say?
Not a damn thing.
I think he saw into my soul in that moment during the look we shared.
I think he saw my guilt, my pain, but the one thing I didn’t want him to see yet was unable to hide was my resentment.
Unfair.
Illogical.
Just plain wrong.
But my love for him was the reason I had broken ties with my family.
The tipping point that pushed me to choose.
Something which I never thought myself capable of yet I had done it.
I had put my family aside for someone else.
Rat bastard that I was.
My gaze slid away from his piercing eyes and I fidgeted on his lap, suddenly uncomfortable and wanting to not be close to him.
Matt touched my chin.
“Look at me.”
I did, for two whole seconds before my eyelids lowered.
He traced the back of his fingers from my chin across my jawline, over and over until I looked up and held his stare.
“No secrets. Remember?” Matt said with a forced smile.
“It’s ok to feel the way you do, poppet. I understand.”
“Understand what?”
Matt gave me a look.
His ‘I know what you’re thinking’ look.
Then he confirmed his use of Vulcan powers by saying, “You’re distraught, conflicted, and it’s understandable that you also feel angry.”
“I’m not angry.” I denied quickly.
It was time for me to move out of his lap.
“My aunt is ill and I’m terrified. Miles away from my family and terrified.”
“I know you, wife.” Matt said softly.
“And your eyes give you away.”
My mouth trembled.
Damned mind reader.
Stupid man, reading my eyes.
I fought the urge to flee his tight hold on me and instead buried my face in his neck once more.
“Just get me home, Matt. I need to be with my family. Take me home.”
They had been in the air for three hours and she had only fallen into a fitful doze ten minutes ago.
Matt observed her, grave worry etched on his face as he pulled the blanket up over her shoulders.
They still wore their dress clothes, not sparing the time to change when they had stopped home to get their luggage and passports.
Belinda appeared, as if by magic, next to his seat; offering unwanted refreshments.
Matt waved her away, reaching over to tuck the blanket tighter around his wife.
A miniscule frown pulled the edges of his mouth at the memory of the rushed conversation he’d had with her therapist.
Let her know you’re there for her, no matter what the outcome.
Well, of course, he was going to be there for her!
Matt had called the woman for some extra insight, not to be told something he already knew.
His hands smoothed the blanket around her arms.
He abhorred this sinking feeling of helplessness and the flicker of resentment he’d seen in the depths of her warm brown eyes had chilled him to the core.
There was nothing he could say.
Matt hoped for his sake her aunt would be ok.
He didn’t want a life where the woman he loved harboured secret bitterness for the role he played in the current estrangement from her family.
If Cleo didn’t recover, Matt dreaded to think the effect that would have on Madi.
Again, he arranged the blanket around her.
“Matt,” she murmured, eyelids fluttering.
“Shhh,” Matt soothed.
“Rest, poppet.”
Seconds later she drifted back off and Matt reluctantly refrained from touching her.
He needed to plan a course of action in the eventuality that her aunt did not recover.
His anxious gaze travelled her form once more.
There was an air of frailty surrounding her as she slept and the protective streak he held for her came to the forefront of his mind.
Whatever happened he would make sure she was ok.
Both their mobiles chose at that moment to vibrate loudly across the table.
Matt moved quickly to grab the offending pieces of technology.
He glanced at Madi with bated breath as she stirred.
When he was certain she had resumed sleeping, he checked his phone.
It was a long-winded text from his brother-in-law demanding to know if Madi was ok and listing all the ways Matt should keep her calm thus avoiding another attack.
Matt rolled his eyes and turned his attention to Madi’s phone.
He knew the code, had seen her key it in numerous times, and he felt absolutely no guilt accessing her mobile.
It could be something important.
Dante’s text was full of support, promising to take care of work in her absence and stating whenever she needed him he was just a plane ride away.
Matt begrudgingly admitted to himself that Dante was indeed a good friend to her.
Then he noticed the texts from McGregor.
With a scowl he read them, snorting at the playful nature of the texts between his wife and the Scotsman.
Not that he was worried about it.
Madi’s responses were friendly, McGregor’s more flirtatious than expected considering he was texting a married woman.
Matt simply shook his head in slight irritation as he put the phones back on the table before arranging his bulk into a comfortable position in his seat.
He should also try to rest because from the moment they touched down at Teterboro airport he doubted he would have much opportunity to catch up on sleep.
Placing a hand gently over her blanket covered hip, Matt closed his eyes.
A few hours would do him well…
“Matt, honey, wake up. We’ll be landing soon.” I nudged his shoulder and he grumbled in his sleep.
Something about insider trading or roller-blading.
It was very garbled.
“Wake up, Matt.”
I brushed my fingers through his hair, it usually woke him.
Sure enough a tiny smile curled up the corners of his lips as he muttered poppet before his eyelids fluttered open.
Awareness seeped into his face and he sat up abruptly.
“We’ll be landing in twenty minutes.” I advised, smoothing back the lock of hair plastered to his forehead.
He vigorously rubbed a hand over his face then blinked owlishly at me.
“Have you heard anything more? Are you ok? Have you eaten?” he fired the questions at me as he straightened his long legs out.
“No to all those questions,” I tried to joke, it fell flat.
“The seatbelt light is on. You need to buckle up.”
Matt stretched his arms above his head, flashing me glimpses of his broad chest between the first few undone buttons of his dress shirt.
The jacket and bow tie were discarded on the opposite seat.
“How long have you been awake?” he asked, buckling up then grabbing my hand.
“About an hour.” I averted my eyes, not wanting to see the concern on his face.
The past hour had been one of self-reflection, no tears, just brutal self-recriminations.
A character assassination actually.
“A car will be waiting for us when we touch down,” he informed me.
“Ok.” I turned towards the window, staring out at the dark sky.
We would both be jetlagged, me more so than Matt.
He squeezed my hand and continued, “We’ll head straight to the hospital.”
“That would be best, Matt.” What awaited me in the hospital?
I frigging hated hospitals.
The smells, the sounds, the horrible lighting; but the thing I hated most was the sense of lingering death.
I still remember the way if felt all those years ago.
The way it clung to me, shadowed me, and people could see it.
Their eyes were always full of pity, their mouths garishly twisted in false smiles as they said: ‘you’re going to be fine’.
“I fucking hate hospitals.” I blurted out at my reflection.
Matt winced at the vehemence of my words.
Again he squeezed my hand, a silent show of support, a reminder of his presence at my side.
“I’ll understand if you want to go to Hannah’s condo after the-”
Matt cut me off with a firm, “I’m not leaving your side, poppet. End of discussion.”
I snorted, a short-lived second of amusement running through me as I replied, “Bossy.” Then I felt guilty over feeling anything else but despair.
My aunt was lying in a coma.
I shouldn’t find any thing amusing right now.
When we landed, Hulk and another guard were waiting for us.
I managed a polite greeting but my nerves were building with each passing second and my skin felt itchy.
I sat in the backseat of the Range Rover while Matt spoke to his pilot and Hulk loaded up our luggage.
Last time we’d been in New York the bodyguards had driven Escalades.
Noticing these minor details kept my mind distracted.
Another irrelevant detail was Hulk’s hair, or lack thereof.
The skinhead look he sported made his appearance even fiercer than I remembered, and he was scary the first time around.
Matt, having finished his conversation with the pilot, got in the SUV and cleared his throat softly as he buckled up.
Oh yeah.
I stretched the seat belt over me and continued staring out the window as he covered my hand with his.
Moments later we were on our way.
“There’s a lot of traffic tonight, Mr Bradley.” Ryan the Hulk advised from the front seat.
“Just get us to the hospital as fast and as safely possible.” Matt ordered with a gentle squeeze of my hand.
I kept staring out the window.
It felt strange being back home.
A tired sigh fell from my lips and Matt began to rub his thumb over my knuckles.
The soothing touch helped push back some of my anxiousness, not all of it, but just enough to remind me that my knight was at my side.
By the time we got to the hospital not even his touch could calm the tension running through me.
“I need a minute,” My voice cracked as we stood right in front the entrance.
Hospitals.
I stayed away from hospitals.
People went in and never came out again…
damned hospitals!
“Of course, poppet.” Matt murmured, his arm was around my waist, holding me close to his warmth.
One minute turned to two, then two to five, and still I stood staring at the doors as people came and left as if they weren’t casually walking through the doors of hell.
Matt didn’t complain at being stood outside in the cold.
It was a little after 2am.
If we were back in London, both our work days would be starting right now.
“Ok,” I inhaled deeply, trying not to wring my hands like a child.
“I’m ready.”
And I was.
This time would be different.
I was no longer a six year old girl, I was a twenty seven year old married woman with my supportive husband at my side.
Matt scrutinized my face before nodding then we entered the hospital.
The smell was always the first thing to hit you.
That smell .
My nose flared and I fought the urge to take shallow breaths, no way was I going to risk another panic attack…
although I was in the best place for it.
Matt, being Matt, immediately took charge; marching up to the main desk and demanding information about the location of my aunt.
The women behind the desk directed us to the ICU and my sweat glands woke up.
It was busy, distractingly busy as the hospital staff and general public bustled to and fro.
Each step I took seemed slower than the last, until Matt’s momentum was the only thing propelling me forward.
When we got out the elevators on the ICU floor I needed another minute.
Matt gave my hand that he was now holding a gentle squeeze while I took a deep breath.
Right.
I was here and my aunt was lying in a diabetic coma somewhere down these corridors.
Straightening my shoulders I pushed aside my fear and walked towards the waiting room with Matt.
“I’m looking for my Aunt,” I said upon arrival at the desk.
“Her name is-”
“Madi!”
Jenny’s shriek had me spinning in my heels.
I had forgotten to change them before disembarking Matt’s jet.
I dropped Matt’s hand, eyes locked on Jenny who was running towards us, and my feet carried me in a blur over to her.
The force of her crashing into me caused us both to stumble but I righted myself and wrapped my arms tightly around her as she began to cry.
“Shh, I’m here now.” I murmured over her heart-breaking sobs.
My gaze searched the space until it rested on Uncle David and Jamal, with tired faces they made their way over.
“You made it, cuz.” Jamal greeted.
I nodded and held one hand out to him.
He gave me a small smile that trembled around the edges as he took my hand.
“Madison,” Uncle David came up on my left, reaching out to envelop both Jenny and myself in a hug.
“I’m so glad you’re here.”
Matt stepped closer to our little family unit but didn’t crowd us.
I think he was trying to respect our grief and privacy.
“She’s been holding back those tears since we got here,” Uncle David patted his daughter’s back while she continued to sob without restraint into my neck.
“What happened?” I swallowed hard, blinking against the building moisture in my eyes.
I would not cry.
Crying meant things wouldn’t get better.
“They called me at work,” Uncle David began to explain, a pained flinching took place around his eyes as he relived it.
“Said she’d complained about not feeling well at the office then she just - they said she just-”
Jamal slung an arm over Uncle David’s shoulders and Jenny’s sobs became even more desperate.
I murmured words of comfort into her wild, tight curls.
Uncle David moved away, finally remembering I hadn’t arrived alone.
He flashed Matt a tired, unsure smile.
“Matt, thanks for getting my niece here so quickly.”
Matt clasped his outstretched hand, longer than necessary as he said, “Hello David, I’m sorry it had to be under these circumstances.” The sincerity of Matt’s words caused a much more genuine smile to float over Uncle David’s face.
“Hey man,” Jamal eyed Matt, not friendly, nor hostile; just neutral.
“You guys got here a lot sooner than we expected.” He turned back to me, ruffling my untamed curls.
“You ok? Matt said you fainted, then when we spoke later he said you had a panic attack. You ok, twerp?”
I nodded quickly.
Jenny’s sobs were much softer now but she still clung to me like a limpet.
“Have you seen her?” I asked them.
“For all of two minutes,” Uncle David replied hoarsely.
“The doctors are with her now.”
I swallowed hard then said it.
“But she’s going to be fine, right? Right, Uncle David?”
His jaw clenched and he avoided my gaze.
“I don’t know, Madi. I- God! I hope so.”
My mouth quivered at the expression on my uncle’s face.
Never had he looked so distraught.
I glanced at Matt, wondering if our love would grow to the volume of the love shared between my aunt and uncle.
Besides my parents, they were my example of what a marriage should be.
David Meyers was a man of few words, a gruff man who conveyed his emotions not with verbal assurances but with his actions.
And although throughout my life I constantly doubted his love for me, I knew he fucking loved his wife.
“She will be, Uncle David.” I declared staunchly.
“She has to be.”
Jenny grasped me tighter and Jamal exchanged a look with me over her head.
“Of course Ma will be alright,” he agreed, but his jaw was tense too as he regarded his father.
“Come on, Dad. You know she’s a fighter. Let’s go sit down and wait for the doctors.”
With Jenny attached to me like a new limb, we found some seats and stared morosely at each other.
If Matt was uncomfortable he gave no indication of it.
He remained silent in the seat next to me, sending supportive glances my way every time I peered at him.
By the time one of the doctors came to speak to my uncle, I was mentally climbing the walls.
Easing Jenny off my shoulder, I listened as the doctor explained what was going on.
“I’m sorry but you need to run that by me again,” I blurted out before jumping to my feet.
The man cast a cursory glance over me, his initial distracted demeanour halted for a moment as he took in the jewellery and dress.
I was a crumpled mess, but Elie Saab was Elie Saab and my appearance reeked money.
“What don’t you understand, Miss,” he paused.
I supplied the answer to his question.
“DuMont and you said she doesn’t have diabetes yet she’s suffering from hypoglycaemia, which you said is a complication of diabetes. Now you’re talking about kidney failure. I don’t – you need to explain it again.”
“At first we assumed she had diabetes, but there was no indication of the illness on her records or the tests we ran so we have now deduced she has non-diabetic hypoglycaemia. It’s not as common but a person can suffer from hypoglycaemia and not have diabetes.” he replied in a patient tone which seemed forced.
“In your aunt’s case what’s happened is uremic hypoglycaemia.”
Doctor or not, if he didn’t clarify what the hell was going on I would get rowdy.
My eyes narrowed.
I was scared, that made me angry, and his doctor speak wasn’t helping.
My family were all scared and I knew Uncle David was too overwhelmed to do anything more than nod his head at whatever the doctor said.
I had to handle this.
I glanced at Jamal who gave me the tiniest of nods.
He was scared too and completely willing to let me take the reins.
If he started acting crazy, like I knew he wanted to, things might escalate unnecessarily.
“Look, it doesn’t take a medical genius to know that a coma can lead to permanent brain damage or death. She’s in the hospital and you’re treating her, just…just wake her up. I mean, you said that once her blood sugar reaches a normal level consciousness should return. Why hasn’t it happened? What sort of medication are you treating her with? Have you actually dealt with the immediate danger? Why hasn’t she woken up?”
The doctor didn’t scowl at me, but he didn’t look happy either.
“Of course we have and in these instances consciousness typically returns-”
“Typically?” My voice was getting shrill.
Matt abruptly perched on the edge of his seat as if preparing himself for intervention.
I continued, “I don’t care about what typically happens! I just endured a six hour flight from England to get here and I want to know when my aunt is going to wake up.”
“Madi,” Uncle David called in a strained voice.
“No.” I held my hand up at Uncle David then focused on the doctor.
“I need you to explain this to me,” even shriller now.
“Why hasn’t she woken up? What’s wrong with her? What is uri – ure – whatever you just said. What’s wrong with her?”
Matt stood and placed a hand on my back.
The doctor glanced at him before speaking.
“In cases like these there is usually an underlying issue and the hypoglycaemia is not the actual cause of your aunt’s symptoms but a secondary one. We need to find out why she has suffered such acute renal failure to determine what the problem is. Now if you’ll excuse me I have other patients I need to see.”
I was going to get rowdy.
“Listen up here, Dr,” I squinted at his name tag.
“Yanic. I get that you’re busy, I appreciate that you have a difficult job and there are other sick people that need your help, but you haven’t answered the bloody question. When will my aunt wake up?”
Dr Yanic exhaled noisily and rubbed his forehead.
“I don’t know, Ms DuMont. I’m sorry but until we can determine the root cause of her illness I can’t give you the answer to that question and it would be unwise of me to try to do so.”
Seeing the doctor’s resigned expression caused my anger to deflate.
He didn’t know.
They didn’t know how to fix her.
I looked at Jamal, who was looking at Uncle David, who in turn was looking at me.
I tilted my head up at Matt, blinking fast in an attempt not to cry.
“What timescales for a prognosis are we looking at?” Matt asked calmly.
Dr Yanic’s mouth quirked at Matt’s posh British accent.
He observed my husband closely and his whole demeanour suddenly shifted.
I think he recognized someone with power, being a doctor himself he wielded such power over the lives of his patients and their families.
Matt, with his creased tux, tousled hair and tired face; still exuded a confident superiority that made anyone sit up and pay attention.
I guess generational breeding of haughtiness had an upside.
“I’m hoping within the next 24 hours we’ll know more.” Dr Yanic replied as he fixed his coat and straightened his shoulders.
“My wife’s uncle mentioned earlier he barely spent any time with his wife, your patient,” Matt’s left eyebrow went up a fraction.
“When will we be allowed to see her?”
Dr Yanic cleared his throat.
“She’s in the ICU right now so you understand why it may be difficult to arrange that at the moment.”
The left eyebrow went up even further.
Matt didn’t say a word, he just looked at Dr Yanic with his piercing grey eyes.
“I’ll see what can be done. The nurses will come get you when it’s time.” Dr Yanic hedged.
Matt didn’t look happy with that answer.
His gaze narrowed while he silently observed the doctor.
I knew they probably had rules about visiting hours within the ICU, but I also knew my husband.
“There are still a few tests we need to run,” Dr Yanic explained.
“And how long will those tests take?” Matt asked.
His tone was even yet it held an unspoken world of displeasure.
It got my back up and he wasn’t actually speaking to me.
I could see the effect it was having on Dr Yanic though.
“About twenty minutes,” Dr Yanic replied defensively.
“Good,” Matt smiled politely at the man.
“In twenty five minutes the nurses will come get us. Yes?”
That was not a question, sure the inflection of Matt’s voice implied it was a question but it definitely wasn’t a question.
It was a command.
“Yes,” Dr Yanic said slowly.
“Um, you are?”
“Matthew Bradley. Thank you for the update, I’m sure my wife’s aunt is getting the very best care from you and your staff,” A slight pause.
“Dr Yanic, is it?” Matt was slick.
Of course he knew the man’s name, I’d said it out loud not five minutes ago.
The way he spoke to the doctor…
it was a loaded warning without actually being a warning.
On face value very polite, friendly even; but the non-verbal threat that he would be watched and errors were not allowed came through loud and clear for Dr Yanic.
The man stared at Matt, dazed it seemed, and my husband’s smile disappeared as he said, “Your other patients must be expecting you.”
“Oh yes!” Dr Yanic broke out of his stupor, flashed my uncle a reassuring look and hurried away.
Matt sighed, his hand had remained on my lower back for the duration of that conversation with Dr Yanic.
“Are you alright, poppet?” he murmured, edging me back to my seat.
I observed my distraught uncle and shook my head slowly as Matt eased me down into the chair.
Once I was down, Jenny curled herself into my shoulder and I absent-mindedly stroked her hair while I went over Dr Yanic’s words.
They didn’t know what was wrong with my aunt.
“Madi,” Jenny raised her tear-stained face from my shoulder.
“Mom will be ok, right?”
I tried to smile, put a lot of effort into it, and still only ended up with a macabre sort of grimace.
“Yes, Jenny penny, of course she’ll be ok. The doctors are going to find out what’s wrong and fix it.”