CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Bryce
The onesie in my hands drops to the pile of other miniscule clothes piled on my leather couch as I stumble for my ringing phone.
Please be Leanne. Please be Leanne.
Dammit. It’s Becca. Probably checking in—again—like she’s done too many times in the past twenty-four hours.
With a roll of my eyes, I swipe to answer. “I’m fine, Becca—”
“Bryce.” Her voice is firm and calm. Too calm.
My heart flies into my throat, the beating there making it hard to speak. “What’s wrong?” I croak the words.
“I need you to stay calm. Mom and Dad are on their way to pick you up—”
I cut across her. “What? Why? What happened?” Panic and bile rise together, everything burning, everything seizing… The sensation is horrifically painful and horrifically familiar.
“Leanne was in an accident, they just brought her in. I don’t know anything else yet, but you need to get to the hospital.”
No no no. No, I can’t—not again.
“Becca…” My voice is far away and wavers in a weird way. My vision swims and I make myself sit on the edge of the sofa and put my head between my knees.
“It’s going to be okay, Bryce. Mom and Dad should be there any second. I have to go. I love you, big brother. I’ll take care of her.”
The call goes quiet as the pressure in my chest builds and builds.
“Breathe, son.” Alex’s voice swims into my consciousness, still too far away, and I register the light pressure of his hand on my back.
I gulp in a breath, and it burns red hot down my throat.
A softer pair of hands lifts my head and frames my face. Delia. Her thumbs swipe my cheeks, taking with them the tears I didn’t even notice were leaking from my eyes. “Come on, we’ve got you.”
How they got me off the couch and into their truck, I have no idea, I don’t remember walking or helping in any way.
All I know is I’m buckled in the back seat of their F-250.
The comforting scents of leather and ranch dirt surround me, a warmth that can’t permeate the cold fear clinched around my heart.
I can’t control the shaking. I don’t have a jacket. It’s snowing.
It’s snowing and it’s all too familiar.
This road.
Slick pavement.
A mangled car on the side of the road.
The groan that claws its way out of my throat at the sight of it is excruciating.
As is the realization that Leanne was on her way to the ranch when she crashed. Because that’s her car right there, only miles short of the safety of my home. Alex has to slow down to pass it. Road crews are still cleaning up the debris and glass.
But Leanne isn’t here. She’s at the hospital.
And just like that, there’s a different scene in my head, a different day rushing to the same hospital…
Pouring rain pounds around me as I sprint for the hospital doors, everything in me pulled toward the place where my heart lies, with the woman brought here in an ambulance, with the baby boy she’s carrying.
Sarah. Sam. We named him last week, ready to finally stop calling him “baby boy.”
He’ll be okay. She’ll be okay.
The doors slide open and I slip on the floors in my wet boots.
“Sarah Butler,” I shout at the nurse, and she startles back. “She was brought in by ambulance.”
I ignore the solemn look in her eyes, the flinch at the corners, like she knows I won’t like what’s about to happen.
“Come with me, sir.” She stands in her blue scrubs and leads me to a private room. There’s no one here. No Sarah. “The doctor will be in shortly to talk to you, Mr. Butler.”
“But where is she? Where’s Sarah?”
She attempts to smile but it falls woefully short. This is wrong, everything is wrong. “The doctor will be right in.”
Then she closes the door behind her. The sterile room makes my skin itch. It’s too white, too bright, too clean… and it smells like disinfectant, making my stomach churn. I scrape my hands on the wet denim of my jeans and wait… and wait…
It feels like hours, but in reality, it’s only minutes before the door opens and a doctor walks in. His scrubs are blue.
“Mr. Butler, I’m Dr. Drayven.” There is no warmth in this man’s eyes, no hope, nothing but a quiet apology.
“No.” It’s all I can force through my windpipe. His face displays everything, and I can’t let him say another word because it can’t be true if he doesn’t say it.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Butler. We did everything we could to save Sarah. Her injuries were severe and we couldn’t stabilize her—”
“What about Sam?” I plead. I know it’s early, probably too early, but maybe…
“Sam?” He tests the word and then shakes his head, putting it together with the only other being who was in the car with her, inside her body. “We tried. That’s why they pulled me in—I’m a trauma surgeon. But he was too small, it was too much for him. I’m very sorry.”
A grief-choked scream issues from somewhere in the room, loud and abrasive, and it’s not until Dr. Drayven props me up from where I began to sink to the floor that I realize the sound is coming from me.
“We’re here, Bryce,” Alex says from the front seat, and everything snaps into focus like a rubber band releasing after being stretched too tight.
I look out the window and the large red letters reading EMERGENCY ROOM are splashed across my retinas, burning into my brain. I throw open the door before Alex or Delia can say anything else and run for the sliding glass entrance.
Familiar. Too familiar. My stomach pulls and I stuff down the desire to vomit.
“Kole. Leanne Kole,” I say to the nurse in the blue scrubs.
It’s not the same nurse.
It’s not the same… This is not the same.
“Yes, of course. And you are…”
“Her husband,” I reply without thinking. I know well enough they won’t let me see her if I say otherwise. I’ll take whatever consequences there are for lying later. Right now, I just need to see her.
“Okay. Do you know the way to labor and delivery?” My eyes go wide and my breath catches in my chest. She registers the look and quickly says, “They took her up for monitoring.”
“She’s… she’s okay?” I ask, the adrenaline pumping through my body making it shake.
“The doctor will be able to tell you everything. I was only informed she’s up there for monitoring. You know the way?”
Her head tilts and she watches me cautiously, like she’s trying to decide if I’m about to pass out and she needs to call for someone to catch me.
“We know the way,” Delia says, her hand finding my arm. Alex is beside her. They either found a spot very quickly or parked illegally.
“And you are?” the nurse asks.
“His parents. We won’t go in. We’ll just get him there,” Alex says, steering me toward the hallway where the elevators are. Their calming presence is the only thing keeping me together right now.
“She’ll be okay, Bryce,” Delia whispers, wrapping her arms around me in the elevator and squeezing me tight. She used to do this when I was young and my anxiety got the better of me. It’s been a long time since I needed one of her hugs this badly.
The elevator moves too slow, and when the doors open, I slip between them, practically dragging Delia behind me by her hand. The nurses’ station is abuzz with activity, and in the middle is Becca.
“Bryce.” She exhales my name and pulls me into her, wrapping her arms around my neck and whispering, “She’s okay.”
I nearly take her to the floor with me when my legs collapse. I can’t register the words around me, the movement, the controlled chaos as they attempt to get me upright again and into a chair.
A bottle of water is thrust into my hands and Becca squats low, her eyes bouncing between mine as she tells me to breathe. Counts my breaths until they match hers.
I look up and her beautiful brown eyes are so full of love. “She’s okay. They’re both okay.”
“Both of them—” My voice breaks.
“Both of them,” she assures me, clasping my hands between hers. “Want to see her?”
I nod. Everything is still shaking as I come down from the rush of adrenaline and pure panic. She takes my hand and leads me past where Alex and Delia are standing with relieved smiles on their faces. Before we walk into the room, I pause and pull them both in.
“Thank you.”
I know this couldn’t have been easy on them either, but they did it. And they did it without freaking out so I could fall apart. I don’t know what I did to deserve these people, this family, but I will never take them for granted.
“We love you.” Delia presses a kiss onto my cheek and Becca takes my hand again, pulling me toward the door two down from where I was sitting.
“She hit her head and we’re pretty sure her wrist is broken. Once she wakes up and we’re sure she and the baby are stable, we’ll take her to x-ray and get her wrist sorted out.” Becca squeezes my palm, pushing the door with her other hand.
My eyes snap to hers. “She’s not awake?”
She was waiting to tell me this, knowing it would only freak me out more.
“She’s been in and out of consciousness. This is her body’s way of stabilizing. Her vitals are good, everything is fine. Between hitting her head and the pain meds, it might be a little bit before she fully comes to.”
“But she’s okay, you’re sure?”
“I had neuro come up and look at her and they aren’t worried about damage beyond a concussion, which we’re monitoring her for.”
We round the corner of the private room she’s in and my knees threaten to buckle again.
She looks peaceful, but everything about it is wrong. There’s a bandage across her forehead and there’s blood in her hair. Her wrist is in a splint with ice taped to it. Her shirt is lifted and monitors are strapped to her stomach. There’s an IV in her hand. It’s all too much.
I want her to be awake. I want to say things, to make her believe how much I love her, but I can’t do any of that. So instead, I drop to the floor next to her bed, plant my head next to her hip, and wrap my arm gingerly around her at the base of her stomach.
And that’s when I truly lose it.