To Forgive & Hold Safe (The Broken Men Chronicles Book 4) (4 page)

After stopping by the house to grab everything I needed, I walked into the hospital as if I belonged there.

I had a plan.

One that would spare me a few grey hairs from the stress I was under, some bald spots from the anger that simmered, and an aneurism from the shock factor that was bound to make my blood pressure rise until something burst.

Again, just like last night, no one made to stop me from entering Hannah’s room.  Aside from my home – which didn’t feel like much of a peaceful place right now – this was it.

I felt nervous, worried even.

Hannah lay connected to a variety of machines.  Some of her color had returned even though she was still unconscious.

I approached her bedside, careful not to make too much noise as if I’d wake her.

The bruising was more pronounced as I took in the sight of her arms, shoulders, and the bit of bare skin on her chest and neck.  Her face, aside from a slight scratch on her left cheek, was intact, perfect even.

My hand reached out to touch the side of her face. When I realized what I was doing, I snapped it back.  I had no right.  Instead, I took the seat by her bed.

For a few minutes I sat there watching over her in silence.  And felt like a total idiot while doing it, too.

I wanted to talk to someone for the first time in years and I mean
really
talk. Bare it all, as they say.  It baffled me that the one person I wanted to talk to was a stranger who’d thrust herself into my life in the most unconventional of ways. Someone who couldn’t talk back, someone I wasn’t sure that could even hear what I was about to tell her.

“Hi Hannah, it’s Ben,” I said.  “You look better.” 
You look better?
  “If you can hear me at all, I bet you’re wondering why I came back, huh?” Despite feeling ridiculous, I never made to leave.  “I know I said that I’d stay, but you probably figured that with your parents around that I’d be long gone by now.”

Something told me that if she were like every other woman I probably would have been.  But she wasn’t.  Don’t ask me how I knew it, I just did.

“I-I don’t know what to do with myself anymore, but I do have a story to share with you.”

I went on, telling Hannah about my wife and daughter.  Our wedding.  Our life together.  The day I found out I was going to be a father.  How much I love them both, despite the boiling anger in my gut where Candace’s betrayal was concerned.  And then I talked about that awful night where I lost everything, but my very own existence.

The more I spoke, the more the weirdness of speaking to a comatose person faded.  If anything, it felt right.  Like somehow, in the recesses of her mind, Hannah was indeed listening, processing and supporting me with no judgement.

I didn’t stop myself for grabbing the tips of her fingers in my hand this time.  “I know what you’ll be going through, once you wake up.” I cleared my throat.  “Hannah, I’m so sorry I couldn’t do anything to save Lee.  You two should be together right now, enjoying life, making babies, laughing.  Maybe if I’d stopped when I first saw you… I should have.”  I sighed.

“There’s more.”  I took in a preparatory breath.  “When I left here this morning, I went to visit Candace’s and Karen’s graves.  Her parents were there.  They’ve been pushing for me to stop blaming myself for what happened that night and move on for years now.”  That’s when my hand took hers completely and squeezed it.  “I ran away, Hannah.  I ran from them like a coward.

“They’ve been trying to get me to talk to them.  They had some things of Candy’s to give me.” I paused to get my thoughts together.  “You see, not too long after she passed, I found journals of hers while I packed up her stuff.  Today, her parents left another box of her things on my front doorstep.” I squeezed her hand again.  “This is hard to say.”  My voice had grown hoarse.

“You know when you think life is perfect?  Well, I’m not claiming that Candace and I didn’t have our share of issues, but I thought that we were happy.” I sighed.  “I never thought…”

For the first time, I felt the tears come, and I let them fall unchecked.

“It was all a lie, Hannah.  Everything was.  I’m not sure why I’m telling you any of this.  Maybe it’s because I know you’ll listen, since I’ve heard that talking to someone in your state can help bring you out of it.  Personally, I think it’s because coma patients just get sick of hearing the same people over and over again so they wake up to tell them to shut up.”  I chuckled, wiping the few stray tears on my cheeks with the back of my free hand.  “The truth is that somehow this is where I feel most comfortable at the moment.

“I’ve spent the last three years grieving for a woman who was my whole life only to find out that I was never hers.  Not if these journals I brought with me today are anything to go by.”  I ran my hand through my hair and bowed my head to stare at the leather-bound notebooks on my lap.  “I know I need to read them to really know what was in her heart, but I can’t do it at home.” On a long exhale, I continued. “Honestly, I’m not sure I can read them at all, but being here makes me feel like I might be able to.”

With that, I opened the first one and began to read aloud.  Call me crazy, but it felt odd yet right to share something so private with Hannah.

I managed to read the first two entries.  They dated back to right before I’d proposed to Candace.  After those, I wasn’t sure if I could go on with my reading, nausea making my gut churn.

I closed the book, put it on Hannah’s bedside table and leaned forward on my knees, running my hands over my face.

“I wish I knew what you were thinking right about now,” I said.  “You know what’s surprising?  That despite the anger, all of this actually makes me feel better.  Finding out that my wife loved another man makes it easier, Hannah.  How can that be?”

“Because you’re angry,” I heard, making me turn, eyes wide that I had been discovered. 

“Anger can help you move on, sweetheart.”

“Mrs. Donner.” Mr. Donner walked in behind her.  “Sir.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”  Her voice was soft, compassionate.  “It explains why you hesitated last night.”  I nodded.  “I’m glad you came back.”

“How’s our girl doing?” Mr. Donner asked.

I spent the next few hours sitting in Hannah’s hospital room, talking with her parents.  I was glad that they hadn’t asked much about Candace, especially after they’d overheard some of what I had told their daughter.

There was an odd chemistry between the three of us that had me feeling comfortable, despite us having only met less than twenty-four hours before.  The conversation flowed.  It was almost as though we had known each other for years.

Anne and Adam Donner were wonderful people.  They loved their daughter without reservation.  I found myself wishing that I had the same support from my parents after my loss.

You did.

Instead of accepting their help though, I had pushed everyone aside, friends and family alike.

Through most of my life, my problems had always been my own.  The pity and sympathy that rolled off of friends and loved ones in waves made me run from them.

When everyone seemed to back away and give up, Mike was the only one who hadn’t.  The man had never pitied me.  Instead, he chose to be there, helping me pick up the pieces and lend a listening ear.

My parents had done the same at first, but I guess they never quite had as much resolve as my best friend did.

I’ve kept in touch with Mom and Dad, but nothing had ever been the same since.  There existed a chasm between us now, where before I used to be able to go to them and talk about anything.  I knew my distance broke my mother’s heart, leaving my father to put her back together when my appearances at family gatherings were always so short-lived.  But I didn’t know how to cope, despite my trying.

I was a crap son.

Guilt rode me for that, too.

“You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?” Anne finally asked after I told them about my family situation.

I held her eyes.  “That’s an understatement.”

“You have time to make things right.  Things are never perfect, Ben,” she said.  “Hannah would agree.”

“What do you mean?”

“Anne?” Adam said.

“I think it’s time we all came to terms, Adam.” Her gaze came to me quickly before heading for her husband and locking.  “Lee might have been the son we never had, but the man was far from perfect.”

I was confused.  What were they getting at?  “I’m not sure if you should be telling me this.” Despite disliking gossip, I felt intrigued by the information and couldn’t help wanting to hear more.

“Nonsense,” Anne said and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.  “Lee was no angel.”

I nodded.  What man truly was?  Life would be too boring if we didn’t have a little bad boy nature in us.  Some guys just happened to possess more than others, and turned it into a lifestyle.

“Lee may have appeared put-together, but he had a dark side,” she said.

“Anne.” Adam shook his head.  “Let’s not-”

She snorted before ignoring her husband and turned to me to explain.  “Lee loved to drink.  Hell, he loved to party.  I didn’t think it was that big of an issue, mainly because we only saw him at large family events and everyone enjoyed themselves, Hannah included.”

“That’s hardly anything bad,” I said to which Adam snorted and that gained my attention.  There was something more to this story.

Anne’s next words came out with a growl akin one of motherly protection.  “True, but it is when he became an ungrateful and abusive bastard.”

“What?” Adam exploded.  “If that-”

“Honey, please let me explain,” she said.

Adam and I listened as Anne told us about Lee.  The more she went on, the more I found myself looking at Hannah and wondering why she had ever stayed with him.  She had a heart – a good one at that – but she was naïve and it had cost her some happiness over the years.

Lee, as it turns out, was an alcoholic.  The only time he drank was for work and family functions, which pretty much was all of the time.  Soon enough, he’d quit hiding his need for his vice altogether.

“It wasn’t until he got charged with a DUI a month ago that Hannah called me crying.  I made her come clean.” Anne brushed a tear from her cheek.  “He was an abusive drunk when provoked.  I didn’t know for sure, but I’d suspected something the last few times we got together.”

“Why didn’t you-?” Adam’s fists were clutched at his sides, anger evident.

“She didn’t want you to know everything yet because she was terrified of how you’d react,” she told her husband.  “She has such a big heart.  You know our Hannah.  She didn’t want to leave him because we taught her that when you love someone, you don’t desert them in their greatest time of need.  After she told me about what was going on though, I think she’d figured out that there comes a time… I think she was planning to leave him.”

I nodded and looked over at Adam whose gaze was upon his daughter, his lips in a thin line, his eyes soft and sad.

“As bad as it may seem, maybe this heartbreak might give her the chance to start fresh,” Anne said and locked her gaze on me.  “She needs something good in her life, just like you do, Ben.”

My heart began to race.  “What makes you think that I don’t have that?”

“Have you truly moved on in the last three years?” Her eyes were locked with mine in that maternal gaze of assessment mothers often have.  “I may be happily married to Adam, but I’m not blind, Benjamin.  You should have a woman by your side, and you don’t.”

“She’s right, you know,” Adam said.

“I just haven’t found anyone.”  Truth was I didn’t want anyone until very recently.  “I’m fine here talking with you folks.”

“That’s nice of you to say.” Anne smiled.  “But you need-”

“Look, I can’t give my heart to anyone when there’s barely any of it left to give,” I said.  “No one wants an emotionless monster who can’t love them right.  I may want to find someone, but after today’s blow… I couldn’t even keep the woman I loved happy.  What makes you think that I can with someone else?”  I took a deep breath.  “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Anne’s hand squeezed my upper arm.  “For feeling?  For telling us exactly how you think of yourself?  You have far too small of an opinion of yourself, boy.  Your mother may not be here to tell you because you’ve pushed her away, so I see fit to tell you like it is.  You’re a good man.  A man who promised something to a stranger, and kept his word.  From where I’m standing, you’re as good as they get.  You’re no emotional cripple.  You feel just fine.  You’re still grieving because you haven’t allowed yourself to go through the process.  You haven’t fully committed to the grief.  Your feelings of guilt are for things that were out of your control.  You’re mad because-”

“Because everything over the last ten years has been a lie,” I whispered.

Anne nodded.  “It’s a huge blow and I get that, but Ben, don’t you want to be happy again?”

Did I want to be happy again?

Now that was a loaded question!

Leaving my home and cell numbers with the Donners, so they could call me if they needed anything, I chose to ponder Anne’s words on my way home.

Except I never went home.

Parked on the street, I grabbed Candace’s journals and got out of the car, relieved that the lights were still on.  I walked up to the door and knocked rather than using the doorbell and waited.

“Benjamin!”

“Hi, Mama.”