A Missing Heart(33)

“Do you know how many she took?”

“I didn’t know she had the prescription, and I don’t know how many pills were in the bottle. I took my eyes off of her for only a second.”

“Okay, does she have a medical condition needing the Valium at the moment?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” I tell him. I sound like I don’t know my wife. I’m questioning if I actually know Tori at all.

I place the operator on speaker so I can send Hunter a text message, telling him I need help immediately—that I need him to come and stay with Gavin while I go to the hospital with Tori.

“How is her breathing?” the operator asks.

“She’s still breathing,” I tell him.

“Okay good, you’re doing a great job, AJ.” Really? Because I pretty much feel like I’ve failed Tori and our family.

Hunter is quick to respond, telling me he’ll be here in a few. Thankfully, he lives less than five minutes away, and he arrives before the ambulance does.

During the long seconds it takes Hunter to walk inside and assess the scene, he takes me by the arm and pins me against the wall while I keep a grip on the phone pressed up to my ear. Hunter mouths to me, “This isn’t your fault, bro, she needs help.” The only thoughts going through my head are that this happened for a reason and this was her cry for help—the one I’ve ignored for too long.

“The EMTs and Fire Department just pulled in,” I tell the operator.

“Then I’m going to let you go now, AJ. Remain calm and good luck.”

“Thank you,” I tell the dispatcher.

The seconds between hanging up the phone and the paramedics rushing in through the front door, Hunter asks, “Where are Gavin’s antibiotics, and what time did he have them last?”

“Six tonight and next to the bottle warmer,” I tell him, while dropping back down next to Tori, checking to see if she’s breathing for the tenth time in the ten minutes it’s taken the ambulance to get here. She is.

As the paramedics make their way into the kitchen, everything seems to happen in slow motion as I’m pulled up to my feet and walked across the kitchen—my kitchen that’s being taken over by a number of paramedics, firemen, and police. An officer has his hand on my shoulder, and he’s asking me questions I can’t answer.

“I wasn’t watching when she took the second dose of pills. I only saw her take the one and wash it down with vodka. I wasn’t paying attention for what seemed like less than a minute when I saw the pill container fall to the ground alongside of her.”

“We were told you don’t how many pills were in the bottle to start with?” he asks.

I feel like I’m staring through him when I say, “I didn’t know they were even in the cabinet up there.”

The officer leaves my side to check through the cabinet I was pointing to and retrieves a few other bottles I was unaware of. “Has she had a drug problem before?” he asks.

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Do you have a list of any medical conditions that might help us determine what caused this?”

“She’s had something going on—she’s been down and kind of depressed. I’ve tried to make her get help but—she told me today she was getting help…I just don’t know how this happened.”

“Okay,” the officer says. “We may have some more questions later, but I think it’s pretty clear what happened here.”

While he’s talking to me, I’m watching the paramedics prop Tori up on a stretcher and administer some kind of injection. Silently, I follow them out the door. I keep my eyes on her pale, lifeless face the entire way to the hospital. I still love her, even through all of this. I really do. I just don’t know if she feels the same about me. There’s a sensation stirring in my gut that’s telling me she only sees me now as the person who ruined her life. Is that who I am—that person? Lots of people say they don’t want to have kids, but then have them and realize how much they needed them. Part of me thought that’s how it would end up for us, and it will end up that way for me but, it might only be me.

“Her oxygen level is low and she’s only at forty beats per minute,” one of the paramedic states, before several of them start working around her.

I’m scared to ask if she’s going to be okay, and yet, all I can think about is how Hunter must have felt during those moments right after he found out Ellie died. He loved Ellie like I’ll probably never love another person—not like I loved Cammy, at least. Tori has been in my life for less than two years and I love her, but our love has been tainted these past few months, and I should be feeling more than I am right this second. I’m scared for Gavin. My heart is breaking for him. I’ve tried so hard to make us a family—what I wanted us to be, and I don’t know if it will ever happen.

More foggy minutes pass as we move into the hospital. It’s the second time for me today. What are the damn odds? I’ve managed to stay out of this place since Gavin was born, which seems to be a miracle in my life with my history of clumsiness. Now, I’m following the stretcher down the hall, watching as the paramedics continue to work on Tori. I’m not sure what they’re doing or trying to do, and the description they give a nurse who steps in, sounds like gibberish.