“Lucy and Tatum were in a car accident. And …” I try to open the driver’s side door but it’s locked. “FUCK! Open the door!”
“I’m driving.” He shoves me aside.
I glare at him as he unlocks the door. “Your nose.”
“Screw my nose. I’m not letting you drive in your state. Now stop wasting time and get in.”
Will drives and I want to yell at him to go faster, but he’s already driving nearly twenty over the speed limit. His lack of knowing the truth about my past doesn’t prevent him from putting himself in my shoes and hauling ass home as quickly as possible.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, breaking the three-hour silence. “About your nose.” A sense of helplessness has calmed my nerves. I’ve allowed myself to consider the worst-case scenario because I’ve lived that scenario. But he died. Lucy and Tatum are not dead. That is everything at the moment.
“No. Don’t apologize. I was out of line. I shouldn’t have said it. I didn’t mean it.”
He did.
Maybe he didn’t mean to say it the way he did, in the heat of the moment, but he meant it. He said what everyone thinks but never says.
When we make it to the hospital, I don’t look back at Will or say one more word to him. Lucy … I just need to get to my daughter.
And my wife.
“Emmett …” my mom says my name as I pass the waiting room to the ICU where she and Dad wait with Tatum’s parents.
“Not now.” I shake my head. I can’t talk to them. I have to get to Lucy.
The nurse escorts me to her room. Before she slides open the glass door, I see Tatum in a chair next to Lucy’s bed, folded over, holding her hand and resting her cheek on it as Josh stands behind her, rubbing her back. He glances up when the nurse slides open the door, but Tatum doesn’t move. With scrapes and bandages on her face and arms, she remains still, eyes closed.
Josh gives me a sad smile. “Emmett.”
Still, Tatum doesn’t move. And Lucy’s hooked up to all kinds of machines.
Retrieving his phone from the pocket of his white lab coat, he reads the message and glances up at me. “I have a patient I need to check on. If either of you need anything, have them page me.”
I say nothing. I don’t even make eye contact with him because I can’t tear my gaze away from my daughter and wife. After Josh and the nurse leave the room, I take slow steps toward Tatum.
Before I can speak.
Before I can touch her.
Before I can wrap my head around this horrific reality.
Tatum’s eyes shut tighter, and her body starts to shake from tiny sobs. I peel Lucy’s hand out of hers slowly and hunch beside her chair. With my other hand, I gently cup her cheek in my palm, being careful to not put pressure on her cuts or bruises.
“Emmett …” She sobs and falls into my arms, knocking me off balance until I’m on my knees and she is too with her arms hugging me like I’m her only lifeline. Every cell in my body has missed this feeling … the rightness of her in my arms. Yet nothing about this scene is right. We lost Austin. Losing Lucy would destroy us completely. I’m certain we would die right here if that happened.
“Shh …” I rest my cheek on the top of her head and stroke her hair down her back.
“God can’t have Lucy too. He just … can’t.” Tatum cries.
I stand, pulling her up with me and easing her into the chair.
She doesn’t look at me.
I turn and slide my hand under Lucy’s hand as the fragile parts of my pieced together heart start to crack again. If it weren’t for the machine keeping time to the heartbeat and the slight warmth of her hand, I would never know she’s alive.
When I glance over my shoulder, Tatum slowly closes her eyes, sending more tears down her face. Why won’t she look at me?
Is she upset with me? Does this bring back too many memories of Austin?
“I’m here, Lucy,” I say while gently squeezing her hand. “And I’m going to make sure you pull through this. We have milkshakes to drink at the cafe and s’mores to roast. You …” I choke on my words for a second. “You have to go to college and do great things. I have to walk you down the aisle. You have to make me a grandpa. You’re not done being my world, baby. We’ve got this. Do you hear me?”
Tatum makes a choking noise behind me. When I angle to see her, she doubles over, nearly falling out of the chair. Releasing Lucy’s hand, I turn and hunch down in front of her again, keeping her from falling to the floor as bone-rattling sobs arrest her body.