Chapter 41
Chapter forty-one
Katie
He’s talking to me. His voice soothes the nightmare—this is my happy place, with Lance. I know it’s fantasy; I must be dreaming. He sounds real though; he feels it. The heat from his palm, the security of his fingers twisted between my own.
“Do we know if we are any closer to her waking up?” he asks.
“She’s showing more signs of being alert,” another man replies. “But nothing’s ever concrete in these situations. I’m sorry, sir. It’s just a case of being patient.”
“I know. I’m sorry. It’s been three weeks. I hoped by now she would have at least woken up.”
“She will,” the kind voice assures him. “The body needs time to heal.”
Footsteps recede, then the door clicks shut, but the warmth stays. My eyes refuse to open, cemented closed. There’s light behind my eyelids. Where am I? Am I dead? Is this some sort of halfway house between life and death, where I can feel the living but not interact?
A baby cries. The heat disappears. Come back.
Then a chair screeches across the floor.
Lance speaks again, this time as if to a small child.
The sound of a father comforting his son.
It’s sweet and loving. Unable to see the interaction, I imagine the scenario playing out: him holding the baby boy in his arms, rocking him gently as he sings quietly.
“Are you hungry, little man?” he asks. A wail confirms his suspicions. It all goes quiet, and I hear him settle back in the chair as I imagine the baby drinking his milk hungrily.
I try to open my eyelids again. I concentrate hard on the movement, willing them to move.
Even a crack would be better than nothing, anything to prove to me I’m not dead.
They stay stuck in the same place, as if they are glued shut.
My inability to undertake the most basic task of opening my eyes infuriates me.
Time passes, and the tiredness returns. I drift off again into a peaceful sleep, my mind empty of anything other than him.
***
My eyes release wide of their own accord. The nightmare disappears. Brad. His fingers tight round my throat. The venom. His hatred spewing from his lips. You idiot. Bitch. Nothing but a gold-digging whore. I pray he’s not here.
I’m in a white room on a large single bed surrounded by pillows. My head hurts, but I’m surprisingly ravenous. My gaze darts around, wary of who’s here.
I’m in a hospital.
What happened?
Machines beep at regular intervals; the needle in my hand itches badly. Nothing comes forth except fear. A vague recollection of running, leaving with my suitcase, then it all going blank. Again, I scan in search of Brad, ready to scream if needed.
Then I see him.
He’s sleeping in a chair in the corner. His head is thrown back, mouth open, and snoring loudly. A crib sits next to him with a small bundle wriggling in its blankets. A gurgle of happy baby noises drifting upward, a child lying in their own company, happy in their surroundings. I calm instantly.
Lance looks beautiful, his large body relaxed and at peace. I don’t want to wake him, so I press the call bell for a nurse. It was sitting on my bed next to my hand, ready for me when I needed it.
A bubbly young woman comes through the door. She’s small and neat with perfectly placed blonde hair. She gives me a warm smile and whispers in my ear, “It’s good to see you awake, Katie. You’ve been asleep for a while.”
“Um,” I mumble. “Where am I? And how long have I been here?”
“You’re in New York Community Hospital, Katie.” The way she says my name, with emphasis, is as if she’s worried I’ll forget it.
“What’s the date? Is it Christmas Day?” I ask, confused. That’s the last date I remember, popping back into my head.
“No, Katie. It’s Monday, the 17th of January, 2022.
You were brought in three weeks ago, after being hit by a car.
” She gives me a kind smile and squeezes my hand.
“All your memories will come back. It will just take time for you to heal. Don’t rush.
But I have to say, you have a wonderful helper over there.
” She signals to Lance with her chin. “He’s gorgeous, too. ”
“How long has he been here?” My eyes stay fixed on his sleeping form, watching his chest rise and fall. Screwing my eyes up, then reopening them to ensure I’m not dreaming. “He is here, isn’t he?”
She giggles under her breath. Lance rages a snore.
“Yes, he is. And has been since it happened. He’s your partner? He traveled from Scotland as soon as he heard, I believe. He’s staying in a hotel nearby with his son. Arrives every day at 8 a.m. and doesn’t leave until it’s dark,” she says.
I smile and just nod. Completely confused, with no recollection of being hit by a car or Lance being my current partner, for that matter. But feeling relieved that he’s here.
The thought of Brad returns. Another memory: Christmas Day, another argument. Me, packing my case. Him, swearing. The timeline is muddled. I try to push to pieces into order, but fail. I lie back on my pillows and stare up at the yellowed ceiling.
“It will come back to you,” the nurse assures me. She read my mind.
“I’m hungry, can I have something to eat?” I whisper, trying not to wake Lance, and not wanting to open any further discussion with her.
All I know is I’m in a hospital, after three weeks of knowing nothing. Brad is nowhere to be seen, but Lance is here, having flown in from Scotland. Right now, that’s information I can’t process.
“Let me check with the doctor. He’ll probably want to look you over first, then I’ll organize some food for you.”
The doctor arrives, moving so quietly his feet are no more than a scuff on the floor. Lance wriggles a few times, but doesn’t wake. I repeat my request to let him sleep. In my room, you could hear a pin drop.
After a check-up, I’m allowed some tea and toast. It’s the best-tasting tea ever. The warm, sweet liquid fills my mouth, and I swirl it around in ecstasy. A smile creeps across my face as I enjoy each sip. Heaven.
“You would think that tea was giving you an orgasm,” Lance drawls.
I swallow my hot tea in surprise, and it returns with my cough.
He chuckles under his breath. “It’s good to see you awake, Katie. You had me worried.” He comes to my bedside, takes my face gently between his hands, and kisses my lips softly. His touch is soothing; I relax into him. “I’ve missed you. I thought I’d lost you for good.”
“What are you doing here, Lance? You’re a long way from home.”
“Anywhere you are is my home. Nothing else matters to me. Just you and my children. I can’t lose you again. I’m here for you.”
I don’t argue. His presence calms me; I want him here.
“What happened? Where’s Brad?”
He silences me with a look.
“Gone.” His lips press together tight. “He won’t bother you again.”
My mouth opens to ask another question. He places a single finger over my lips, his own turning upwards. “We have plenty of time to talk. Let’s just enjoy being together.”
A week later, my recovery is progressing well, and I’m due to be released in the next few days.
The memories are returning day by day. Each one from recent months digging deeper, making me question my life.
Why I stayed with Brad? My ridiculous reasoning: to maintain my career, then letting him ruin it anyway.
As I think back, it all comes clear, the way things do when you finally step off the hamster wheel. When you give yourself time to breathe. I’m proud of myself for walking away, albeit too late.
The accident itself feels like sublime intervention.
The universe stepping in to send Lance back to me.
He’s been here for weeks. Since waking up, he’s been my sanity, by my side every day.
When I asked about Brad again, if he’d come to the hospital, Lance narrowed his eyes, told me no, and that I wouldn’t be seeing him again. That he’d been taken care of.
I dropped the subject. Unsure if I wanted to know anymore, but relieved I wouldn’t have to see him.
Initially, I’d planned to return to London on my discharge.
Lance asked me to move back to Aviemore where he can look after me. I’m not sure what our relationship is now. Are we friends, or more? He tells me he loves me, but we don’t discuss anything beyond the day ahead of us.
He keeps saying he wants to support me in my rehabilitation. That I can have a safe place to stay while the final bruises heal. That I can have fresh air and time to figure out what I want now.
I’m tempted. But I worry we’re opening ourselves up to more heartbreak. Then again, he flew halfway around the world for me, so the box has already been opened. Our relationship will need to be discussed at some point. There’s no running away from it. Lance laid his heart on the line—again.
David has been a welcome distraction in our monotonous days. His cheerful expressions and giggles lift my heart every time. He’s beautiful, just like his adoptive father.
“I still can’t believe you came out here and have stayed for four weeks. What about Hannah and your job?” He shrugs.
“Hannah’s with her mother; I speak to her every day. Not that she’s happy with the arrangement, but I told her I’ll be back soon, and she can come home. My boss is a great guy. He knows I wouldn’t be here unless I had to be. I feed reindeer Katie, it's not life or death.”
“But Lance, it’s too much. You’re life is important too.”
“That’s why I’m here,” he says, simply. “You needed me, and here I am. What happens from now, we can decide as we go. Have you thought any more about coming home with me?”
I hesitate. His offer for me to go home with him has been playing on my mind constantly. Each day, I flit between yes and no. The longer I’m with him, the harder it is to refuse. I want this too, even if I don’t want to admit it.
“I want you to come home with me and get better. Then maybe you can give us a chance? But I’m not asking that commitment of you now. Please, just let me look after you.”