Butterfly Dreams (26 page)

T
WENTY-FOUR HOURS LATER

“He'll wake up. And I don't want to be gone when he does,” I argued when Tamsin tried to make me go home, take a shower, and get some sleep.

I sat in the same spot I had been in for the last twenty-four hours.

I kissed the back of Beckett's lifeless hand and tried not to shudder at the feel of his cold skin. I spent most of the day staring at his face, looking for any sign that he was waking up.

“You're not doing Beckett or yourself any good if you don't eat and sleep.” Tamsin handed me a sandwich and I put it on the table beside Beck's hospital bed.

“I'm fine,” I told her, not even believing myself.

Because I was so
not
fine.

Yesterday I had insisted on going to the fair in the park. It was a good day. He was happy. I was happy.

We
were happy.

I should have known it wouldn't last. I wasn't cut out for hearts and flowers and happy endings.

We were holding hands, laughing. Kissing. Being together. We were a normal couple for just one day.

And then we weren't anymore.

Beckett collapsed. He was unresponsive.

His heart stopped.

Sudden cardiac arrest.

I gave him CPR until the paramedics arrived. I was calm. Collected. Until they loaded him up in the back of the ambulance and continued to work on him. His lips were blue and he still wasn't breathing.

Then I lost it.

They let me ride in the back of the ambulance with Beckett, but I barely remember getting to the hospital.

Things were a blur after that. Doctors and nurses swarmed the moment we arrived and whisked him away. I was told to stay in the waiting room until they had news.

I called Beckett's parents, having grabbed his phone before they took him away.

I don't know how long I stood there. But I was still in the same spot just inside the emergency room door when Meryl and Stanley arrived with Zoe. They asked me what happened. I don't remember answering them.

Numb.

I was so, so numb.

We were there for hours and hours. The day turned to night and we still waited. Doctors came out and spoke to Meryl and Stanley.

Beckett had suffered from sudden cardiac arrest and they had resuscitated him. But now he was in a cardiac arrest–induced coma as a result of the oxygen deprivation that occurred after his heart stopped.

Coma.

Cardiac arrest.

Might not wake up.

Ever.

Meryl was crying. Stanley was holding her. Zoe sobbed in a corner, clutching her phone to her chest.

And I stood there. Unmoving.

Shock.

Disbelief.

We were having a normal day. We were happy.

I love you
had been on the tip of my tongue. I had wanted to tell him.

I love you.

But I didn't get a chance.

I vaguely recalled calling my sister. I didn't know what instinct had me reaching out to her.

I would have been surprised by her coming immediately to my side if I weren't. So. Numb.

“Have you slept at all?” Tamsin asked, pulling a chair up to the bed and sitting down beside me. I held Beckett's hand tightly between mine. I wouldn't let go of him. Not even when the nurses came in to check on him. I held him still.

He liked it when I touched him.

I never really did it enough.

I was going to make up for it now.

“The nurses brought me a pillow and blanket last night. I think I slept some.” I shrugged. I didn't really care about things like sleeping and eating. I rubbed the back of Beckett's hand, wishing it wasn't so cold.

“His fingers are freezing. Do you think that's okay? They seem way too cold,” I muttered, squeezing the tips of his fingers, trying to warm them up.

“It's chilly in here, I'm sure that's it,” Tamsin said.

I didn't acknowledge her words. I was too busy trying to hold it together.

“When will his family get here?” Tamsin asked, tearing the sandwich she had brought for me in half and eating it.

“Soon,” I answered, my eyes never leaving Beckett's face.

Then we were quiet again. The constant hiss of the ventilator and the monotonous beeping of the heart monitor drilled a hole through my brain.

“Our story has just started, Corin.”

He lied to me.

Not intentionally of course, but he had lied all the same. This didn't look like the beginning of a story.

This was the end.

The only ending I should have ever expected.

“Have you been here all night, young lady?” The older nurse named Tonya came into the room. She read the numbers on the screens and wrote them in Beck's patient log. “I don't need to remind you that visiting hours are only until eight o'clock. And only one visitor in the room at a time.” She looked pointedly at my sister.

“I know. I'm sorry,” I said tiredly, and Tamsin looked ready to argue. I shook my head and she closed her mouth.

Tonya gave me a kind smile. “As long as you don't get too loud, I'll pretend I didn't see two people in here.”

“Thanks,” I told her, trying to smile. But I couldn't.

“Any change in his condition?” Tamsin asked, moving to make room for Tonya who readjusted Beck's breathing tube and straightened the covers over his unmoving body.

“I wish there was,” she said sadly, looking down at Beckett. “Too young to be in here like this,” she murmured.

“I'll be back in an hour to check on him. There should only be one person in here. Those are the rules,” Tonya reminded us with a wink.

After she left I sat down again and took Beckett's hand. “He's going to wake up, Tam. I know he will.”

I sounded so sure. It was a confidence I struggled to feel. To believe.

I sounded like Miss Positivity. I smiled thinking of how often I had called Beckett the same thing.

It was my turn to earn the title.

Because I wasn't going to give up on him. Not ever.

Even if the odds seemed eternally stacked against us.

Even if my every instinct and experience were telling me that I had been here before. I knew what was going to happen.

“I hope he does, Cor. I really do.” Tamsin didn't sound so convinced and I saw the doubt on her face.

“Don't look like that,” I told her harshly.

“Like what?” she asked, startled.

“Like you don't believe it. Like he won't wake up,” I hissed.

“I'm not—”

“Yes you are! I see it in your eyes!” I was getting worked up. I couldn't help it. Numbness was giving way to anger.

“Corin, I just think that maybe you should prepare yourself—”

“I will do no such thing, Tamsin. He's not freaking dead! He's breathing. His heart's still beating! Don't you dare tell me to prepare myself for something I know won't happen!”

Tamsin put her hand on my shoulder. “Cor, calm down. I just remember what it was like for you with Mom and Dad. I know I wasn't there for you then. But I
will
be here for you now.”

I stiffened under her touch.

“Beck isn't Mom and Dad. This is completely different!”

Was it?

I felt a crippling sense of déjà vu. Noisy machines. Nurses rushing in and out. A pale, cold body lying on a bed hooked up to tubes.

The crushing grief was there, waiting to overwhelm me. It had never really gone away.

What if he never wakes up? What will I do then?

“He's going to wake up, Tamsin. This isn't the end.”

So sure.

So damn sure.

I couldn't afford not to be.

I don't know how long I sat there. Beckett's parents came and still I sat. I wouldn't leave. Screw the one-visitor-only policy.

I would stay until he woke up.

“The doctors are worried about brain damage. He went a long time without oxygen. His heart rate is steady but he still hasn't woken up. They're talking about trying hypothermic therapy.” Beckett's dad was talking in low whispers to his wife.

“What if he doesn't wake up, Stan?” Meryl asked, speaking the words everyone seemed so quick to say.

“He's going to wake up,” I interjected.

Beck's parents looked up in surprise, not realizing I could hear them.

“Of course he will,” Stanley said quietly.

“Why would you even suggest that he wouldn't?” I asked angrily.

Meryl wiped tears from her face. “This is the second time he's been in here. Like this. How much more can his poor body take?” she cried.

“He's going to wake up! He wouldn't leave us. He's going to fight to come back. Don't you know Beckett at all?”

“Corin, I know you care about our son and we're so glad you're here with him—”

“I love Beckett.” I pressed my hand over my heart. “I
love
him. And I'm going to sit here and wait for him to wake up. I won't give up on him. Not ever.”

Meryl smiled at me. A look of genuine affection on her face replacing the sorrow for just a moment. “He's lucky to have you fighting for him, Corin. I know that
when
he wakes up, yours is the face he's going to want to see.”

Beckett's mother came over and sat down beside me and together we held her son's hand, leaning on each other for support. Loving the man with the tubes down his throat and machines monitoring his fragile, fragile heart.

Waiting for a miracle we prayed would come.

“It's been four days, Cor. You need a shower. You're starting to gross everyone out. And that's saying something considering we're in a hospital.” Tamsin handed me a to-go cup filled with tea. Too much sugar and too much milk. She clearly hadn't figured out the perfect milk-to-sugar ratio. Beckett could teach her a thing or two about proper tea preparation.

“I'm not leaving.” I stood up as the nurses came in to move Beckett's arms and legs. They repositioned him in his bed afterward.

“I'm telling you this as someone who loves you, you are starting to smell. It's not pleasant. You don't want Beck to wake up and get a whiff of your pit stink, do you?”

“You're exaggerating,” I scoffed, pulling my shirt out by the collar and sniffing.

Okay, maybe she wasn't exaggerating.

“What if he wakes up while I'm gone?” I asked, my eyes lingering on Beckett's face. Looking for signs that he was waking up.

I had started to imagine all sorts of things. His fingers moving. His mouth opening. I was becoming a bit delusional.

Tamsin looked down at my unconscious boyfriend, a sad, sympathetic smile on her face.

“I don't think you have to worry about that, Corin.”

Tamsin drove me home and while I showered, she ran out to get us something to eat. I didn't like being away from Beckett. I felt restless. Guilty even.

When I was dry and dressed in clean clothes, I walked out into the living room. Mr. Bingley jumped down from the kitchen counter and twined himself around my ankles.

Adam had been coming in and making sure my cat was fed and his litter box was clean. But it was obvious that my cat had missed me.

I picked him up and tucked him beneath my chin, rubbing the spot behind his ear that I knew he loved.

“I know you miss me, buddy. But I have to be with Beck right now. He needs me.” I kissed the top of the cat's head and put him down.

I hadn't been back to my apartment since the day of the carnival. I thought about that morning before our lives upended.

We had always been a pair of battling forces. Beckett wanting only to live and me…well I had been simply waiting to die.

I had been dominated by my fear, my illogical neurosis, for so damn long, and I was working to address the issues that had come to dominate my life. I knew that I was ready to let go of the baggage. The stuff that was suffocating me.

And I wanted to do that because of Beckett.

He made me happy.

He made me feel loved.

He made me forget about death and dying and illness and disease.

I could only focus on one thing…

Him.

I still felt him. In my home. I could hear his laugh and the deep timbre of his voice.

But he wasn't there. He was ten miles away in a hospital bed.

We had been happy.

Our story had just begun.

I covered my face with my hands and shuddered, trying not to cry.

I heard my door open and close. “I saw your car out front, I wanted to see if you still needed me to feed Mr. Bing—Corin? Did something happen? Is it Beckett?”

I shook my head, my hands still covering my face. I heard Adam's footsteps as he approached and he tentatively put his arm around me.

“What happened? Tell me,” he said softly.

Adam's much-needed support made my eyes burn with unshed tears. But I wouldn't cry. If I opened that gate, then it would make all of this real. I wouldn't be able to keep the pain at bay.

And if I let it in, I wasn't sure I could survive it.

Not this time.

“What if he doesn't wake up?” I whispered.

I couldn't believe I was actually saying that. I hadn't let myself even contemplate the idea. But now, with devastation looming, I couldn't help it.

Adam gave me a squeeze. “It's okay, Cor. Beckett will be okay.”

“Will he?” I asked. The words muffled by my hands that I still used to cover my face. Holding the tears in. So they couldn't escape.

Adam didn't answer. And I knew it was because he couldn't. He didn't want to give me false promises.

“I can't do this again, Adam. I really can't.” My voice was broken. Shattered.

But I was trying to stay together. Even if pieces of me were in a hospital bed struggling to stay alive.

“You
can
do this, Corin. You are the bravest person I know. I watched you after your dad died. I waited for you to crack. But you didn't. You kicked my unmotivated ass into gear and we opened Razzle Dazzle. Sure, you're a bit loopy about all the diseases and thinking you're going to die every other day, but you're still standing. And that's a lot more than most people would be doing.”