Chapter 47
Chapter Forty-Seven
Jules
A drift in a heavy fog, hushed whispers and an annoying beeping tug at my consciousness. The voices are familiar, but no sound leaves my lips as I mouth their names. Or did I only think them? I try opening my eyes, but it’s as if they’re taped shut.
A soft pressure on my forehead and the comforting scent of Mick’s aftershave calm the panic bubbling up my throat. Except, shouldn’t I be angry with him?
He did something.
What was it?
I strain to remember, but sleep beckons and I slip into its warm embrace.
The sweet fragrance of gardenias tickles my nostrils. I lower the bouquet. The flowers are beautiful, but they’re playing havoc with my sinuses. Lightning streaks across the stained-glass windows, followed by a crack of thunder that shakes the walls. That’s the risk you run when you get married in the middle of summer. Luckily, I agreed to a church wedding rather than an outside event. It was my compromise to appease Mick’s mother, but I doubt it’ll do much good. She hates me and I can’t see that ever changing. She believes I deliberately got pregnant to force her son into marriage. As if!
Mick faces me, his earthy brown eyes shining with adoration. “I will.” His fingers tremble as he slides the wedding band into place.
The audience breaks into cheers and wolf whistles, but it’s white noise to me. Mick’s vow to love and cherish still rings in my ears. “I love you, Mr Williams.”
He lowers his head. “And I love you, Mrs Williams. Forever.”
His lips press against mine. Soft and firm. I open and he accepts the invitation, his tongue swooping inside my mouth to stake its claim. I cling to his shoulders, kissing him back.
The wedding march begins. We link hands and face our friends and family. The aisle stretches before us in the same way as our life ahead. There’s plenty of time to fulfil my dreams. Once Riley’s older, I’ll be able to find work. It might look a little different from the Indiana Jones vision I’d carried through university, but it’ll be equally rewarding. I have my husband and daughter. The right job will be there when I’m ready. I just know it.
The music fades and light flickers behind my eyelids, bright and unforgiving. I strive to hold on to the dream, but it slips away, taking its reassuring warmth with it. I blink my eyes open to see a white ceiling above me. Where am I?
Claire squeals and looms over me. “You’re awake.”
I smile. At least I attempt to. My mouth and throat are so parched that the movement sends a flurry of razor-sharp blades to the area. I lift my right arm. It feels like there’s a twenty-kilo weight attached to it.
Claire pre-empts my request and raises a glass to my lips. Water dribbles down my chin, but I don’t care. The cool liquid is heaven. Her green eyes glisten as she clasps my hand. “You scared us, Jules. ”
I take in the small room. The decor is white on white, and the irritating beeping sound is a heart monitor. I’m in hospital. And the dream, the elusive, beautiful dream, is gone. And so is Mick.
“What happened?”
Claire smooths her hand along my forehead. “You don’t remember?”
A headache rolls across my scalp like rumbling thunder, my mind rebelling as I sift through it, searching for answers. The fog might have lifted, but there’s still a thin haze dulling my senses.
The gym workout. That’s right. I sweated up a storm on the treadmill.
The accident.
“I crashed the car?”
Claire’s lips press together, and she nods. “Yeah.”
“Did I hit my head?” Is that why everything is so fuzzy?
“No, I don’t think so.” Claire slumps on a chair, her hand still wrapped around mine. “Mick found you passed out at home.”
My headache pounds at my temples as memories slam into each other with the intensity of waves crashing against a rocky shore. The fight with Taylor. The rejection letter.
Oh fuck.
Mick’s dead friend’s widow. The boy.
Who is this man I call husband?
I close my eyes to avoid the compassion in Claire’s. A chill seeps into my bones, leaving no space for me to feel anything.
“Did I really wash three tablets down with a bottle of wine?”
“It looks like it.”
My eyes snap open. Did I say that out loud?
“I thought you’d stopped taking them.” Claire releases my hand and rubs her forearms.
“I tried to give up. I did. But there’s only so much rejection and disappointment a woman can take.” I creep my fingers along the covers, seeking Claire’s touch.
She clasps it. “Why?”
“I’m messed up.”
The tiny room and its minimalist furniture fade into the background as Claire’s earnest gaze holds mine captive. Last year she was the one in need of comfort, and now here I am, screwing up in spectacular fashion.
“You’re not messed up.”
I push myself to a seated position on the bed, the movement making my head spin. “Where’s Riley? Is she okay?”
“Don’t worry. Jake’s parents are spoiling her and Oscar rotten.”
So, where the fuck is my husband? I draw on the anger simmering beneath the surface. “And Mick?”
Claire opens her mouth as if to speak and then closes it. She nibbles at her bottom lip with her teeth. “I’m not sure. He said he had something to do.”
“What could be more important than his wife and daughter?” A sharp pain slices through my chest and pierces my heart. Is he putting his dead mate’s family ahead of us? Again. Consoling the widow while I lie in hospital? I whack the mattress with my hand, although it’s barely a graze. All my strength has deserted me. “I don’t understand why he didn’t just tell me about this Melissa person.”
Claire swallows and squeezes my fingers. “I agree. It doesn’t make sense.”
I stare at the ceiling. It’s white. Like the walls. And the wedding dress Mick encouraged me to wear, even though I was far from a blushing virgin bride. But there’s no purity in my marriage. We’ve been married five years and Mick’s never mentioned his dead friend or the man’s wife and child. What does that say about him? About us?
I lower my gaze. Claire worries her bottom lip. She’ll gnaw it off completely the way she’s going. “Mick loves you, Jules. I’ve never seen him look so undone. He only left this morning after the doctors assured him you weren’t in danger and were unlikely to wake up for a few more hours.”
“Whatever the truth, Mick’s lied about his relationship with this woman. That’s not okay. Not by a long shot.”
“I know. But?—”
The door swings open and a nurse bustles in. Perfect timing. I love Claire, but I’d rather not discuss my husband right now. What I want is to escape into my dreams. Back to a time when I imagined a very different future.