ALEC
Dr. Rennan leaves, and I collapse into a chair, rubbing a hand over my face and feeling the scruff there. I’m in desperate need of a trim, but I don’t think I’ve slept in the weeks since Tana’s accident, let alone had time to groom myself properly.
I keep replaying our last conversation in my head, wondering if I’d said something different or done something different, could I have saved us both from all of this? If I’d turned down working that extra shift like she’d asked, would she have been at that intersection? I should have been there taking care of them. It should have been me. Tana was the glue that held our family together.
“You don’t have to do this.” The words spoken come from the voice of the woman I love but a stranger’s mouth, pulling me away from my misery. I don’t know which is worse, knowing I may never get the love of my life back or seeing her right in front of me, but having her be hopelessly out of reach.
Meeting her gaze, I say, “Do what?” I’m too tired for this.
“Take care of me.”
It’s barely a whisper, and I can tell she hates the thought of being helpless, beholden. I almost laugh. The person sitting in front of me couldn’t be more different from the woman I married. Tana loved to have other people take care of her, but not in a malicious way. She grew up without a family, without anyone else to rely on. When we started dating, it was one of the things that attracted me to her the most. I liked taking care of her, and she ate it up. There weren’t many women who enjoyed that from a man, but she did. And it worked for us. She took care of me right back, but in other ways. We fit each other. So, where do we fit now? Where do we go from here?
I heave a sigh, wondering if the vows I made to this woman still apply now that she can’t remember them. She may have the same eyes I’ve looked into a million times, the same lips I’ve kissed and memorized, and the same voice I’ve heard in a thousand different ways, but this woman? This isn’t my wife.
At the same time, I can’t let her go. Somewhere, somewhere inside of her is the woman I love. The woman I’ve promised to take care of in sickness and in health.
What kind of man would I be if I gave up on her now?
Not the kind who could look at their reflection in the mirror, that’s for damn sure.
“Of course, I’m going to take care of you.” I want to say, “You’re my wife,” but that doesn’t feel right. She shrinks away whenever I get close. She looks at me like a stranger, and hell, I am to her. Could the woman I loved just be gone? Just like that? One moment I have everything, and the next, it’s taken from me. The thought occurs to me that it would have been easier if she’d died, but it makes me sick to my stomach to even think it.
“Just until I figure out what I’m doing next. Just for a little while.” I don’t know if she’s saying it to herself or me, but maybe we both need to hear it.
“I’ll call my mother and tell her to let the girls know you’re coming home.” Her eyes widen, and I’m close enough to see the pulse jump in her throat, so I add, “Unless that’s too much for you.”
There’s a pause while she tries to think of an excuse. Not finding any, she says, “No, I understand. They want to see their mom.”
“And they understand their mom isn’t well right now. At least as well as kids can understand. I shouldn’t have pushed you before.”
She picks at the thin hospital sheet and doesn’t meet my eyes. “You don’t have to apologize. You’re trying to do what’s best for them as a father. I’m sorry for being difficult.”
“I’d say you weren’t, but that would be a lie.” Her gaze lifts to mine, rebuttal already on her tongue when she sees my wry smile and laughs.
“Ha, ha. Very funny. You shouldn’t tease the invalid.”
It feels so fucking good to hear her laugh. My eyes slip close for a moment and I soak it in. I never thought I’d hear it again. It soothes the raw, worried parts inside of me, at least for a little while.
“I think we both know you’re anything but disabled. You wouldn’t be getting sprung from this place in a little over a month if you weren’t a fighter.” That, at least, the old and the new Tana have in common. She may have been sweet, kind, and thoughtful, but she had a backbone of steel. It makes me wonder what other things they’ll have in common. Is it strange I’ve started thinking of the two of them as completely different people?
I push to my feet because worrying about it hasn’t done any good over the last month. According to Dr. Rennan, it may even likely be permanent, so there’s no amount of worrying that’ll change a damn thing anyway. “I’ll see what discharge paperwork we need to take care of.”
She opens her mouth and pauses.
“What?” I ask.
“Do you mind if I take a shower? Change my clothes? All I have is this.” She fingers the pajama outfit the girls had picked out.
I laugh a little. “Yeah, of course. I brought a suitcase of your clothes. I’ll get it from the closet.”
Retrieving it from her, the scent of Tana’s perfume wafts up from the fabric, and my throat closes. She doesn’t notice as I pass them over to her.
“I’ll only be a minute,” she promises.
“Take your time,” I murmur.