42. Sarah
42
SARAH
The moment the door closed behind him, I rushed to the window he was standing by when I entered to look at him. He enters the lot with a smile on his face.
From the sprint of his steps, there's no doubting his happiness.
Oh, how I've wrongly judged him.
He cleared up all my doubts and made me a promise of the life I've always wanted. What else could be better?
He enters the truck, and I tell myself to stop looking at him now, but it's hard. I'm giddy with happiness, and he's the reason behind it.
God, I love him so much. How did it take me this long to see it?
His truck pulls away. I tell myself I'll stop looking the moment he hits the street. I don't. I watch him drive away from the hotel down the street until he's barely visible, and that's when I tell myself to finally look away. He's about to make a turn off the street anyway.
Out of nowhere, I see a car come from the corner he's about to turn into and hit his truck so hard that the truck starts to spin in the middle of the road.
I think I blacked out. I don't know. I'm not sure. All I know is, one minute I'm standing by the window watching the new chance I just got at happiness being shattered right before my eyes. The next, I'm on the floor, opening my eyes to the sight of the bed’s lower frame.
Pushing myself up, I allow myself a minute to gather my thoughts.
I was standing, so how come I'm on the floor?
Maybe all that happened in the past hour has been a dream after all. Lord, let it be a dream. It'll hurt me that Ian never told me he loves me, but at least he wouldn't be involved in an accident.
Shooting upright, I go straight to the window, staring down the street to see the road buzzing with crowds.
Oh God.
It wasn't a dream. Ian had an accident, and I passed out.
For how long?
He needs me! How could I have passed out?
I rush out of the room as fast as I can, jumping into the elevator.
The ride down feels like a journey to hell. Every second that passes and I'm not sure if he's safe drives me wild. When I finally get to the hotel’s reception, it's buzzing with crowds. As I run out, I notice the reception pointing me to two men. I don't stop to figure out why.
Taking my car will probably get me to the accident scene faster, but I choose to run. Every step I take forward gets me closer to the scene of my worst nightmare yet. By the time I make it to the scene, I'm a mess. Emotionally and physically. I dash straight for his truck, but he's not there.
His blood is, though. And there's so much of it.
I don't know when the sound escapes my mouth. All I know is I suddenly go from trying to check if he's in his car to jumping around the street, screaming like a mad woman.
Maybe I am mad. With fear.
People gather around, some close to me, others by the edge of the road, staring at me. I don't care. I don't mind. All I do is ask anyone if they know where he's been taken.
Suddenly, a hand lands on my shoulder. I turn to find the owner to be a man. A police officer.
“Where is he?” I demand.
“He's being taken to the hospital. May I ask who you are to him?”
“His everything. I'm his fucking everything, now take me to him before you get bitten by a pregnant woman who just had everything right in her world a few minutes ago only for it to all go to shit again!”
He stares at me like I'm insane, but he doesn't protest. “You can go with us in our car, but it may take a while. We still have to get eye witness reports. Or you can just take a cab to the hospital.”
“Which hospital?”
“Saint Paul's.”
That fucking hospital!
I walk away from the officer without even saying thank you, flag the first cab I see, and hustle into it. I yell at the driver all the way to the hospital. Surprisingly, he doesn't say a word back to me. Just looks at me in pity as I pay him his fare.
“Nothing is wrong with him!” I snap at him.
“What?” he asks.
“I said nothing is wrong with him. You're looking at me as if he's dead, and I'm telling you he's fine.”
He gapes at me, takes the money in my hand, and then start his car back up.
“Have a nice day, ma'am.”
“You do the same!” I all but yell and then walk away from him. I rush into the hospital, trying to tell everyone that will listen that they need to let me see him, but no one listens.
They all just look at me like I've lost my mind.
Maybe I have.
It takes a long time before I finally hear anything about him.
A nurse approaches me and informs me that he's currently being attended to, and I will be updated if anything else needs to be done.
She wouldn't say anything else apart from that. So, I remain seated in the reception area, trying not to focus on the fact that I was here just a few hours ago with my child's life on the line.
Now it's Ian's life.
When do I get a break?
My phone starts to ring in my pocket, and it's not until that moment I remember I have it with me. I was shocked when I saw some cash in my pocket to pay for the cab. I left the hotel without any plan for an emergency.
“Please tell me you guys are safe,” I say the moment I pick up the call. It's my aunt.
“Yes, we are.” Her voice comes back more cheerful than mine.
I nod, relief knocking into me. At least I don't have to worry about them anymore. Not that I had to anyway, since Ian handled Peter.
Oh, my goodness. He's in the state he is in right now because of me. If I had just told him the truth, he wouldn't have needed to come to town, and nothing would have happened to him.
This is my fault. I'll never forgive myself if something happens to him.
“Sarah, are you there?”
Clearing my throat, I quickly wipe the tears that managed to escape my eyes. My aunt can't know that something is wrong.
“Yeah,” I croak, sniffing unintentionally.
“Are you crying?” she asks, her voice now alarmed.
“No, I'm fine. I'm just happy you guys are safe.”
“Honey, are you sure? Did that evil boy made you go through with the surgery?”
“No, he's been sorted out. I left the hospital.”
“Really?” she asks, accusatory.
“Yeah.”
“Well, it sounds like you're still at the hospital, though.”
Yeah. My throat gets clogged with emotions, and tears start to pour down my cheeks again.
“Sarah, tell me what is going on right now,” she demands.
I nod, even though she can’t see me. I try to gather my thoughts before I speak again. “It's Ian.”
“What about him? Is he okay?”
“He was in an accident.”
“Goodness gracious. How? Where? Is he going to be okay?”
Her questions just bring more tears to my eyes.
“I don't know, Auntie. And it's my fault.”
“Sarah, I don't know the details of what happened, but I know it's not your fault. And I know he wouldn't want you blaming yourself. You have to be strong for him right now.”
She doesn't understand. He never would have come to New Jersey if not for me.
“He came to New Jersey for me. Helped me with Peter. He even found out about the baby, and he was happy. He told me he loves me and then said he had to leave. That's when it happened.”
“Sarah, I need you to stop blaming yourself. It won't do you any good.”
I didn't do Ian any good, either. I should have just trusted him like he asked!
“Miss Brown?” A male doctor comes to stand in front of me.
“Auntie, I have to go.” I end the call and get on my feet immediately, pocketing my phone. “Can I see him now?” I ask the doctor.
He looks at me with pity as he speaks.
“I'm afraid not. Mr. Peele has a few broken ribs, a cracked skull, and some internal bleeding. He needs to be operated on. Currently, we've placed him in a medically induced coma to reduce the swelling in his brain. But I have to be honest with you, he needs an operation, and we need to do it fast if we're ever going to have any chance of saving him.”
He finishes speaking, waiting for me to respond to him, but I'm unable to.
My mouth is suddenly incapable of forming words and my sight seems to be giving out.
“Miss Brown, are you okay?” the doctor asks. His voice sounds so far away. What is wrong with me?
I try to speak, but no words come out. Whatever vision I had before suddenly goes blank. My legs also become jelly underneath me.
I think I'm dying.
It's better to die than remain in a world where he isn't, right?