Chapter Thirty-Eight
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
DRAVEN
I t’s been two weeks since the operation.
I’m short on patience.
I’m short on nerves.
But when it comes to Kins, I’ll never run short on hope.
I’ll never give up on her.
I don’t possess that ability any longer. There is a renewed fury within me, and I’m more determined than ever to see to it that she returns to her old life.
Her mother and I have been rotating turns in and out of the ICU, Cheryl returning to her hotel with Alexander every evening while I spend the night with McKinsey in her room.
The nursing staff and her therapists have been taking good care of her. They’ve taught me how to perform exercises to prevent her muscles from atrophying. How to carefully move her to keep her from getting bed sores. I’ve been giving her sponge baths and following them up with lotion to keep her skin nice and soft.
Flashbacks of taking care of my mother haunt me, threatening to drag me under. But I know in my heart of hearts that I will see McKinsey’s warm cocoa eyes again.
“Harleigh and Delilah are supposed to be coming in again today. I know they both really miss having you around the clubhouse. They find your presence comforting. That’s another sign that you’re a good therapist, Kins.”
My lips twitch as I gingerly squeeze McKinsey’s hand.
“I spoke to Marissa again this morning. She wanted me to tell you she’ll be back soon. And she also sends regards from Mary and Mr. Tillman who she met with earlier this week. She said they’re grateful you’re getting the care you need, and they’re looking forward to seeing you soon.”
Fuck, we all are.
Bringing her knuckles to my lips, I kiss each one of them delicately before hanging my head.
I hate feeling useless.
The nurses have all told me that being here, taking care of her and talking to her, are three huge ways I can help her. I’m glad to be of assistance in any way, but I just wish there was something … anything more I could do.
I pick my head up at the sound of footsteps echoing down the hall, drawing closer to Kins’s room. Dr. Faust walks through her door with his eyebrows drawn together and a downcast stare. He’s been telling me each day that they’re, “hoping for the best.”
I don’t know what inspirational medical textbook he got that fucking line from, but it sucks.
“Good morning, Draven.” He finally looks at me.
“Faust.” Without moving from my seat, I close my hand around his when he offers it to me. “Please tell me something good.”
But there is no light etched in the shadows that cross his face.
“I just finished reviewing her latest MRI scan. I was hoping to see more of a change in her by now. With each day that passes, her chances of returning to some semblance of normalcy decrease even more.”
I scratch at my jaw, trying to keep the irritation at bay.
“But that’s not guaranteed, right? She can still wake up and be fine? Go back to normal? Be fully functional?”
“Draven, you need to understand something.” He runs his hand over the back of his neck. “If she wakes up?—”
“ When! ” I launch myself from my seat, no longer able to contain my anger. Dr. Faust backs into the counter behind him, trying to put as much distance between us as he can. “ When she fucking wakes up. I’m going to need you to remove the word “if” from your vocabulary when you’re talking to me. Do you understand?”
His eyes are wide, frozen on me as he clutches the lip of the countertop at his back. My chest heaves, rapidly opening and closing my fists as I fight to gain control of myself.
Closing my eyes, I concentrate on the quiet in the room. I think about Kins in the bed behind me, focusing on her in an effort to calm myself.
“Look, when we first met, you told us you’d only be able to get rid of some of the tumor. But you ended up getting it all. Now you’re using non-committal words like she hasn’t already surprised the shit out of you once. She can do it again. I know she can.”
He looks at me like every word I just said went in one ear and out the other.
“The time is almost here to start making some big decisions, Draven.”
“What exactly does that mean?” Dread drills into my soul.
I pierce Dr. Faust with my stare. He drops his hands from where they clung to the counter a moment ago, appearing to relax slightly.
“Just come out and say whatever it is you’re trying to say. I’ve learned by now that when you open your mouth, there is always some other meaning buried in your words. I don’t have time to decipher your bullshit.”
“It’s time for you and Cheryl to start thinking about the very real possibility of having to turn off the machine that’s keeping McKinsey alive. To give her the option to fade from this earth in peace. Otherwise, you risk dooming her to a life that no one would choose for themselves.”
Fuck.
That’s what I thought he meant, but I needed to hear him say it. Now that he has, I want to shove every last word back into his mouth and throw him out the window into traffic.
Instead, I scrub a hand down my face.
Fortunately, he takes that as his cue to leave.
* * *
I feel like Dr. Faust has been breathing down my neck the last few days.
He’s asking me to do the impossible.
Waiting for me to make a decision that is beyond any measure of capability I possess.
Cheryl has placed the responsibility on me and me alone. She can’t bring herself to make a choice any more than I can, but she also doesn’t feel like it’s hers to make.
Kins and I discussed this.
After she was released from Park, before we got the call from Dr. Faust.
In the quiet midnight hours, wrapped around one another in our bed, she confessed each of her fears to me.
One of them was her fear of losing herself. Her independence. Her faculties.
She made me promise that I wouldn’t keep her alive for the sake of being alive. She didn’t want to live if it meant having to rely on me or anyone else to do everything for her. If she couldn’t enjoy our life together. If she couldn’t continue helping others.
I promised her.
I promised her.
But it may be the one promise I’m forced to break.
As a tear rolls down my face, I scoot forward in my seat and place my elbows on the edge of McKinsey’s bed.
Clasping my hands together, I close my eyes and tilt my face to the ceiling.
“Mom. Dad. I know I haven’t taken the time to speak to either of you in a while. I’m sorry about that. But I’ve been dealing with a lot here. I know you’re disappointed about what happened between me and Mitchell, and I’m sorry for that, too. I’m sorry for not being stronger after Mom’s funeral, almost throwing away the very life the two of you gifted me. But I can’t be sorry about where it led me. Or where you led me because of it.
“You sent her to me, didn’t you, Dad? Years ago, before I ever knew how it would feel to need someone as badly as I need her. I didn’t recognize the impact she made on me so early on. But with each interaction, she’s been changing me. Fixing me. Breathing new life into me.
“And Mom… When I needed someone to pull me from the deepest pit of despair, you placed her in my path, making sure she was the one to rescue me. I know you did. You always had a plan in place. You would do anything in your power to see me thrive.”
I drop my head and open my eyes. Finding McKinsey’s hand, I hold it between mine.
“I needed her then. I need her now. You sent her to me before. I need you to do it again.”
Standing, I place a kiss on Kins’s forehead before speaking to her.
“McKinsey, my love for you isn't something I could have ever predicted. You are something I never predicted. Miracles don’t happen to people like me, Kins, yet that’s what you are.”
I rub my thumb over her knuckles.
“You’re a fucking miracle.”
With my free hand, I push a wild wisp of hair away from her face.
“And I know you have the fight in you to overcome this. I’ve seen it before. I’m begging you to find that fire again. Beat this, Kins, and come back to me in whatever way you can. Because selfish as it may be, I'm not ready to lose you. I won’t fucking lose you.”
Closing my eyes again, I try to compose myself. I can feel another breakdown barreling toward me. I pinch the bridge of my nose as I squeeze my eyes together.
When I feel slight movement in my other hand, the one still holding onto Kins, I think I imagine it.
Until it happens again.
My eyes shoot open.
Turning my hand over, I ensure McKinsey’s is balanced in my palm so it won’t fall. Staring at her fingers, I don’t blink, waiting to confirm what I thought I just felt.
I don’t dare look away for fear of missing it, and finally, I watch as the first two fingers on her right hand dance, slowly, back-and-forth.
My eyes dart from her hand to her face just in time to see the skin on her forehead twitch. The sensation of watching her muscles work on their own is overpowering, but the sight of her eyes cracking open for the first time in over two weeks nearly stops my heart.
“Kins…” My voice is strangled with emotion as I cup her face in my palms.
Her eyes open wider, and the air in the room seems to still as I wait for her to see me. To recognize me.
Finally, they meet mine, and the life in her stare is strong enough to bring me to my fucking knees.