Chapter 17 Love Will Find a Way
Esteban
Ihugged myself under my black hoodie and snuck around the hospital premises where Carmen told me we’d meet.
“Psst.”
I jumped. My heart was about to pump out of my chest.
A door to my right was open about an inch. I clutched the notebook inside my pocket and went inside.
“Hey! Welcome!”
I shushed Carmen, darting my gaze around the empty storage room. Hospitals were creepy as fuck. White walls, exaggerated lighting, and the smell of disinfectant made it seem like a Stephen King movie was about to happen.
“Don’t worry, babe. No one’s here. Put these on.” She tossed me a pair of navy scrubs. “Night shift won’t look twice. Just keep your head down, and follow me.”
I changed, then put my clothes inside a locker. I scraped a hand through my hair and studied my reflection in a small mirror. My eyes were sunken. Beard stubble shadowed my face. Fuck. I was a mess.
I tidied up the best I could and followed Carmen into the hall.
I shook out my hands. I couldn’t control the tremors that ran through me. A wave of nausea hit me as we reached the security door that led to Robbie’s hall.
She swiped her badge.
My pulse hiked as the door swung open.
When we reached his room, my whole body vibrated with glee. I was finally here.
“You have half an hour, then I’ll come for you.” Carmen closed the door behind her.
My eyes glazed as I saw him. He slept quietly while the machine beeped, letting the world know he was still alive. They said coma patients heard you, felt you. But in these past three months, I hadn’t seen any evidence of it. Nevertheless, I never stopped trying.
I rushed to his bed and took his hand. I rubbed the cold away and kissed it. “Hey, love, I’m here.” I cleared my throat. “Fuck, baby, I miss you. I’m sorry I haven’t been around.”
The silence was all-encompassing. Robbie’s loss had created a hole in my soul that no one and nothing could fill. It was like living without really doing so, and the thought of this coma extending, of not being able to hear his voice or see his smile, was slowly killing me.
I wiped away my tears and threaded my fingers through his long hair. “Thank God they haven’t cut it. That, I’d never forgive.” I rummaged through my pocket. “I brought something.” I bit my lip. “I’ve been writing poems for you.”
I opened the leather notebook and started reading. This was something I couldn’t do with his parents around, so I’d take these small, forbidden moments and recite to him while they lasted.
I visited Robbie every Monday and Friday.
The poems kept flowing, but his condition was the same.
I wrote so many that I formatted it as a book and printed it for him.
The fear that I’d be found out and arrested was so real that I began hiding the book under the mattress and had left a note for him in case he came to and I wasn’t there.
Carmen told the nurses about the book so they wouldn’t throw it out when cleaning the room. I’d never be able to repay their kindness.
My father tried to fight the restraining order, but it was in vain.
Dr. Fernández was determined to break us apart no matter what.
As for Robbie’s mother, I had a feeling she didn’t feel the same way as his father, at least not as hard.
Sometimes, before the restraining order came to be, I’d caught her watching me and smiling.
Maybe it was wishful thinking, but I hoped one day they’d see our love for what it was—the same as any other and even stronger.
“Hey, babe,” I whispered. “I miss your voice.” I took his hand. Still warm. Soft. Beautiful like all of him. I kissed it. “I love you so much.” I held it over my heart. “Fuck. I need you more than ever.”
I was about to remove the book from under the covers when someone opened the door. The chair screeched as I stumbled to a standing position and took two steps back.
Dr. Fernández’s nostrils flared. His face reddened. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“I…” I held my breath as he closed the space between us. “Please, sir. I love him.”
He stopped, darting his eyes between us, and for a second, I saw it. He recognized it. Us.
“I should call security.”
The hesitation in his voice. The way he cleared his throat before threatening me. It was as if…
“Go, and don’t ever come back. You’re only making things worse. The doctor said there’s a high possibility he’ll have amnesia. That he’ll need time to figure things out. What do you think will happen when he sees a stranger standing by his bed? A man, nonetheless.”
My heart stopped beating for a second. A pang struck me so hard I almost dropped to my knees. Dr. Echevarría told me about the risk, but now, after three months, was it a certainty?
“He’ll remember me.”
“Are you that na?ve?” He pinched his mouth. “I’ve already accepted the possibility that he might not even remember us, and we’re his parents.” His eyes glazed. “And you think he’ll remember you?”
I flinched as nausea churned in my stomach. Could he really think that lowly of our love? Could a person hate an idea so much to deny his only child and chastise him for whom he was?
Why?
What did we do to deserve this? The short glances.
The muttering. The cold stares. The way some people drifted away from us, hiding us from their children.
Were we that different from them? Or was it the idea of someone thinking and feeling differently that made them act that way?
Did they think we were some kind of anomaly?
That we were confused or in need of attention?
I had never figured out why. Why did some people hate us so much?
“I love your son, and I hope someday you’ll see how much you’ve hurt him by pushing us away. I’ll leave, sir, but know this: I’ll never give up on Robbie. I know he’ll remember me. He’s the love of my life, and I’m his.”
With that, I kissed Robbie on the lips and left without knowing when or if I’d ever see him again.