Chapter 36
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Ben
Laney has been quiet the entire drive to Phoenix, her gaze fixed on the window, lost in thought.
She hasn’t said a single word, and it’s starting to worry me.
I’ve tried to get her to talk, making a few quiet attempts at conversation, but she’s completely shut down.
I can’t say I blame her. She lost her mom once already when she was twelve, but there was always a sliver of hope that Molly would wake up.
This time feels different, and I think we both know it.
I’m relieved the care facility has informed Bennett, Molly’s brother.
It means I don’t have to talk to him, at least not until he shows up, which might take a while if he’s overseas.
There’s no one else on Molly’s side I need to contact.
I’ve already spoken with my parents, but given Dad’s health, there’s no chance they’ll be able to make the trip.
Kirsten lives and works here in Phoenix.
Not at this hospital, but close enough that she might stop by if she can.
She and Molly were close before the accident.
For now, it’s just Laney and me. I just hope I’m strong enough for both of us.
I pull into the parking lot of Banner–University Medical Center and ease the car into an empty space.
Shifting into park, I cut the engine, but neither Laney nor I makes a move to get out.
The silence stretches between us, heavy and thick.
After a few minutes, I reach over and take her hand in mine.
“We should head inside,” I say quietly.
She turns to look at me, her eyes glassy with sadness.
“Okay,” she whispers.
I always knew there was a possibility we’d end up here someday. I’ve questioned more than once how much more Molly’s body could endure. Deep down, I think Laney knew it too, even if she couldn’t say it out loud.
As we enter the emergency department, I walk toward the reception desk, still holding Laney’s hand. I give over Molly’s information, and an uneasy feeling settles deep in my stomach when they direct us through the main waiting area to a relatives’ room. That can’t be a good sign.
When we step inside, I spot Olivia from the care facility.
“Ben, Laney,” she says, rising from her seat and approaching us.
She wraps Laney in a firm hug, and Laney returns it just as tightly. The care facility staff have become like family, especially Olivia, who’s been caring for Molly for years. Laney and Olivia share a special bond because of it.
“Any updates?” I ask as Olivia releases Laney and gently guides her to a chair.
Olivia shakes her head. “No. They took her straight back when we arrived, and I haven’t heard anything since.”
“I’m so grateful you came with her, Olivia. It means a lot that she wasn’t alone.”
“Of course. We all love Molly.”
I give her a small, sad smile. “I’ll try to find someone to give us an update.”
“I’ll stay with Laney,” Olivia offers.
I nod at her in appreciation before turning back to Laney. “I’ll be right back, okay?”
“Okay,” she whispers, her gaze fixed on her hands resting in her lap.
Just as I’m about to step out, the door opens, and a man in a white lab coat enters. Olivia and Laney immediately rise from their seats.
“Molly Murphy’s family?” he asks, his eyes scanning between me, Olivia, and Laney.
“I’m her husband, and this is her daughter, Laney,” I reply, stepping forward and extending my hand to him.
He offers a sad smile as he takes my hand. “Dr. Lawson. I’ve been overseeing Molly’s care.”
“How is she?” I ask, trying to read his face for any hint of what’s to come.
“I’m afraid Molly is very ill,” he replies.
Laney gasps, and I quickly move to her side, wrapping my arm around her waist for support.
“She’s been given several different antibiotics at the care facility, but none have shown any improvement. There’s one more we can try, but I need to warn you, she’s been on them since her arrival, and there’s been no change so far.”
“What happens if these antibiotics don’t work?” Laney asks, and I pull her tighter against me.
Dr. Lawson looks at me, silently asking for permission to explain. I already know what that means, and as hard as it is, I know Laney needs to hear it too. I nod, and his gaze goes from me to Laney.
“Laney, if these antibiotics don’t work, we won’t be able to stop the infection. Her body is already weakened from the coma, and unless these medications take effect soon, her body won’t have the strength to fight.”
Laney presses her hand to her mouth, stifling a sob, and my heart breaks for her. I wish more than anything I could take this pain away.
“She’s going to die?” she whispers, her voice trembling as she hides behind her hand.
“She’s very sick. I’m sorry, Laney,” Dr. Lawson says gently.
“Can we see her?” I ask, my voice thick with emotion.
“Of course. I’ll have a nurse come in and escort you to her. Just… don’t be shocked when you see her. She’s connected to several machines, but they’re all trying to help her.”
I nod in understanding, and he exits the room. I gently guide Laney to a chair, sitting her down before dropping to my knees in front of her.
“Are you okay?” I ask quietly, my hand reaching up to brush her hair behind her ear.
Tears spill down her face, and I gently wipe them away. “Don’t cry, sweetheart,” I say, my voice breaking.
“She can’t die, Dad. It’s not fair,” she says, her voice cracking.
I pull her into me, my chest tightening at the depth of her grief. In the beginning, we all believed Molly would wake up. But as the years passed and the reality sank in, that belief started to fade.
By the time the nurse arrives to take us, Laney has regained some composure, holding tightly to my hand as we follow her down the hallway and into one of the side rooms.
“If you need anything,” the nurse says, “just press the call button. I’ll give you some time with her.”
“Thank you,” I mutter, my gaze fixed on Molly. She looks so small and fragile lying in the hospital bed, her body barely visible beneath the crisp white sheets.
Laney hurries to Molly’s side, gently taking Molly’s hand in hers.
“Her hand is so cold,” she says, her eyes meeting mine. “And she looks so pale.”
I move to the other side of the bed, taking Molly’s other hand. Laney’s right; her hands are cold. Cold, but clammy. It must be the infection.
“She wasn’t like this on Thursday,” I say softly.
“You visited Mom on Thursday?” Laney’s voice is tinged with surprise. “You didn’t tell me.”
“I was in Phoenix for the conference, so I stopped by to see her.”
Her gaze drops to Molly’s hand, her thumb tracing gentle circles over her pale skin.
“Did you tell her about Ash?” she asks quietly.
I let out a slow sigh and nod. “I thought she deserved to know.”
When Molly first had the accident, the doctors encouraged us to keep talking to her, to share our lives as if she could still hear every word.
So, we did. Year after year, Laney and I would sit beside her, filling the silence with stories of birthdays, graduations; all the moments that made up Laney’s life.
If there was even a chance she was listening, a chance she might one day open her eyes, we wanted her to feel like she was still a part of it all… like she hadn’t missed everything.
“She’s giving up,” Laney whispers.
I look up sharply, meeting her tear-filled gaze. “No, Laney…”
“She is,” she insists, her voice trembling. “She knows you’ve moved on, and I’ve barely visited since we left for River Falls. She thinks we’ve let go of her.” Her head bows, resting against Molly’s unmoving hand as her shoulders shake.
My chest tightens as I watch her. I want to tell her she’s wrong, but maybe she’s not. Molly has held on for so long without any promise that things would ever change. If she can hear us, maybe hearing about Ash and me was too much. Maybe her body is tired. Maybe her heart is too.
And maybe… maybe this is my fault.