Chapter Twenty-One
Reilly
I’M WATCHING the useless bloody doctors do their observations on Bray again. It’s been the same thing, day in and day out, for the last fifty-nine days. They can’t find anything wrong with his brain; they don’t know why he isn’t waking up.
Zac has called in the best neurologists he can find.
He’s flown doctors in from all over the place.
All of them unable to give us any answers.
As much as my hope has dwindled, I can’t give up.
He made me a promise to always fight for us, so that is what I have resolved to do. Fight, for me, for him, for us.
I spend my days sitting by his side, researching patients suffering from comas.
I have tried every single damn method I can find on the internet aimed at waking up coma patients.
I’ve been playing his favourite songs. I’ve replayed videos of his own fights.
I even made his coach come in and yell at him, ordering him to wake up.
As much as he didn’t want to do it, I was not going to take no for an answer.
It didn’t work though—nothing worked. I’m running out of ideas. I don’t want to give up, I can’t give up, but I really don’t know what to do. Zac and Ella spend hours here every day too. I have been leaving them to have their own time with Bray.
I wanted to make sure I was the person he saw when he woke up.
He told me once that the first thing he wanted to see in the mornings was my face; the second my friendly vagina, his words, because that was the best way to start the day.
I replied that coffee was the best start to the day.
I wish I had told him that wasn’t true. I should have told him that he was the best start to every day… the best end to every day.
Now, I’m scared that when he wakes up—if he wakes up… no, it’s when he wakes up—I’m terrified he’s not going to know who I am. I was only in his life for a few months. Maybe it should be Zac or Ella whom he sees first; they’re his family. What do I do if he doesn’t remember me?
He fell in love with me once, and that was when I was trying to push him away. I can get him to fall in love with me again. I think. Maybe. Hopefully. It’s only been a few months, but I don’t even know who I am without Bray anymore.
Actually, I do. That’s a lie. Without Bray, I will go back to the closed-off, frightened girl I was before.
I will go back to being surrounded by people but feeling a bone-deep loneliness.
I’ll go back to being the fun Reilly, who to outsiders doesn’t have a care in the world, while silently dying on the inside.
I can feel myself getting more and more frustrated at the doctors.
They walk around looking at this and that, but they can’t fix him.
I want to yell and throw stuff. I want to stomp my foot and throw a tantrum, to demand they wake him up.
I know that won’t work though. Zac has already tried.
Bray’s scans have shown that his brain is responding to hearing our voices.
Alyssa says we should keep touching him and keep talking to him, because he can hear everything we say.
So, I’ve been doing just that. I have told him everything, my whole life story, almost.
I haven’t told him about Dylan. He knows that I had a brother.
He knows that he died obviously; he’s been taking me to the jail and cemetery on the first Sunday of the month.
He was taking me, when he was awake. Twice, he made up an excuse that he needed to visit his friend, who was in the same jail as my dad—his visits always the same time that I would be going there.
He would then drive me to the cemetery, without me even asking; he would pull up and then lean against the car for an hour waiting on me, while I spent an hour talking to Dylan.
Bray never complained about waiting so long, and he never asked questions about my visits.
Not because he wasn’t interested—I knew he wanted to know.
He was just waiting for me to be ready to talk about it.
But that’s the thing, I didn’t think I’d ever be ready.
There is so much anger, sadness and regret that I have over Dylan’s death.
I wait for the doctors and nurses to leave the room, then climb up on the bed and cuddle into Bray.
I don’t care that I keep getting told off by the nursing staff.
He’s my boyfriend; if I want to lay in bed with him, I bloody will.
One nurse made the mistake of telling me off for doing this while Zac was in the room.
Well, let’s just say that nurse left in tears.
Zac and I have gotten closer over the last two months.
He has been caring and compassionate towards me like never before.
It was a little odd at first, since we loved to hate each other, not that we ever actually hated each other.
Now, he treats me just the same as he treats Ella and Alyssa.
He is constantly asking if I need anything, constantly having food sent to me here at the hospital.
Holly even told me he tried to give her that fancy black card of his to go and buy me clothing, toiletries and whatever other woman crap I need.
She laughed at him and said we didn’t need his fancy money.
Which we don’t. We both have a nice little trust fund that our dad made sure we received when we turned twenty-one.
Alyssa and Sarah know about this, but we don’t tend to advertise it.
I don’t even think Holly has ever touched hers.
I went through a phase where I was spending like I was Ariana Grande, then I woke up to myself and stopped.
Zac has also continued to pay me from the club, even though I haven’t stepped foot in there since that day. I’ve told him he doesn’t need to, that I don’t deserve it. He grunts at me and tells me he’s paying it anyway and not to bother arguing with him about it because I won’t win.
Once we get out of this hospital, I plan on giving it all back, somehow. Even if I have to withdraw it all and dump a money bag in his mailbox, he is getting that money back. I am not now, nor have I ever been, a charity case. I just haven’t had the energy to argue over it yet.
Curling up to Bray’s side, I embrace the peace, all but the beeps of the machines. Everyone left a little while ago. These are the times I like the most, being able to curl up next to Bray. To touch him, feel that he is still here. To talk to him and tell him everything I can possibly think of.
The other day, I told him about the time when Holly and I were thirteen.
There was a boy, we were playing seven minutes in heaven, and the bottle landed on Holly.
She was expected to go into a closet with the boy I had a major crush on.
There was no way Holl would kiss a boy I liked.
We had completely different tastes in boys.
Plus, there’s the whole sister girl code thing.
We went into the bathroom and changed clothes, came back out and I went into the closet with my crush.
That was my first kiss, and it was absolutely horrible.
When I told him that story, I could have sworn I felt his hand move. I called for the nurse and she said it was probably just an involuntary twitch. I don’t believe her. I got him to react I know it. I’ve felt these little twitches more and more lately. They can’t be nothing. I won’t believe that.
Taking a big breath in, I inhale his cologne. I’ve been spraying it on the pillows, on him, on the blankets. Just so I can surround myself in his scent. It’s oddly comforting.
“Bray, you can wake up now. Everyone’s gone home for the night so, you know, if you wanted to get laid, now’s your chance, babe.”
I grab hold of his hand. I could have sworn it twitched just then. Sometimes I’m convinced that I want it so bad that I’m imagining it.
“You can’t leave me here, Bray. I still want you.
I need you. I need you to wake up. You can’t leave me.
My dad left. Dylan left. I will not let you leave me.
You know I never told you this, but when Dylan died, I thought I would never feel a pain so deep.
I was wrong, because this, this right here, fucking hurts.
It hurts that you’re not keeping up to your end of the bargain and fighting for us.
You’re meant to be the undefeated fighter, Bray.
Well, guess what, this, whatever this is, it’s winning and you’re losing. I’m losing.”
I swipe the traitorous tears from my cheeks, take big breaths, and count to five before continuing.
“You want to know what I talk to Dylan about on those Sundays I visit him? Lately it’s been about you.
I tell him about everything that’s been happening in my life.
I tell him about Holly and my mum and dad.
The first time you took me there, I asked him to give me a sign that you were the one I should take a chance on.
That you were the one I should open my heart to.
That same day, during the visit with my dad, he told me to give you a chance, to give happiness a chance.
My dad had never led me wrong before, so I took a leap of faith. ”
Great, now my eyes are going to be red and blotchy again. I roll over and grab a tissue off the table before settling back in.
“I haven’t been to see him, either of them, since you’ve been asleep.
I can’t bring myself to leave here, to leave you.
If I could talk to Dylan right now, I’d tell him that my heart is shattered…
that as much as I want to believe you’re going to wake up and come back to me, I’m so freaking scared that you’re not.
Damn it, Bray, come back to me, please. I can’t do this anymore.
I’m tired; it’s my turn to sleep. You need to wake up.
I’m drowning right now and you don’t even know.
If you don’t wake up, Bray, if you don’t come back to me, then I’m likely to do something selfish and stupid and follow you.
Because living like this, living without you, is not an option for me. I can’t do it. I’m not that strong.”
Movement of the hand I’m holding makes my whole body freeze.
Did I imagine that? I wait and wait. A couple of minutes later that movement is there again.
His fingers are curling—that’s definitely more than a twitch.
I want to look up, to look at his face, to see if his eyes are open.
I’d do anything to be able to be entranced by those green eyes.
“Rrh.”
My head snaps up at the noise, and I jump off the bed. “Thank you, God. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” They are there; the eyes, they’re open. He’s staring up at me, with very open eyes.
“Bray, don’t move. Let me get someone.”
Shit, what do I do? I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I look around the room in a panic; his curling fingers catch my attention. I’m still holding his hand. The pressure is light, featherlight. It’s enough to let me know that he’s there though, and that’s all that matters.
Okay, think, Reilly. The call button, I press the call button, over and over and over again. It seems to take hours for the nurse to appear in the doorway.
“What on earth…” The nurse stops, mid-sentence, mid-stride. She only takes a minute to recover.
“Mr. Williamson, it’s good to see you’re awake,” she says as she calmly walks over to the bed and presses some buttons on the machines. She then picks up the phone and informs whoever picks up that Bray is awake.
“You’ve given your wife quite the scare, Mr. Williamson,” the nurse says, patting my arm. She moves to the other side of the bed. Bray continues to stare up at me, confusion shining in his eyes.
He doesn’t remember me. All I can think right now is he has no idea who I am.
He’s just woken up in hospital after being in a coma for two months and the first person he sees is practically a stranger.
My eyes start welling up. I can feel his fingers applying pressure; they are attempting to curl around mine.
I slip my hand out of his, look up to the nurse and excuse myself.
“Umm, I’m just going to step out into the hall and call
his brother. He should be here,” I say as I leave. The nurse offers me a sympathetic look. I look back at Bray. He’s actually awake. He’s still staring straight at me.
Closing the door behind me, I lean against it, only to jump out of the way when a heap of doctors come down the hallway and enter the room. I should be in there. I should at least hear what’s going on. First, I need to call Zac.
He picks up on the first ring. “Reilly, what’s wrong? I’m coming now.” I can hear the rustling of keys.
“Zac, he’s awake.”
“Wh… what did you say?” he whispers.
“Bray… he’s awake. He just woke up a couple of minutes ago. You should get here, Zac. He’s going to need you.”
“I’m on my way. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Are the doctors in with him?”
“Yes, they just went in.” I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to do. I’ve dreamt of this moment for two months, and now that it’s here, I just don’t know what I’m meant to do.
There’s a loud commotion coming from Bray’s room. What the hell? The nurse sticks her head out. “Mrs. Williamson, you need to get back in here, now.”
Running into the room, I can hear the machine that’s hooked up to Bray’s heartbeat going haywire. “What’s going on?” I ask as I barge my way through doctors to reach the other side of Bray’s bed, the one not currently taken up by nurses and doctors.
I grab his hand in mine and watch as he turns his head towards me. His eyes lock onto mine. The machine starts to slow down. The doctors still and look up at me. I can see everyone looking at me, but I don’t dare break eye contact with Bray.
“What happened?” I ask, still not looking away from Bray.
“It seems Mr. Williamson had what could be a slight panic attack. It started as soon as you left the room.”
I scrunch my eyes up. Bray has never been scared of anything. Why the hell would he have a panic attack now?