Fidelity (Infidelity #5)(18)
As I turned back around, I gasped. Adelaide’s nightgown was opened and her breasts were exposed. Eva again placed the stethoscope against her chest. I held my breath as I watched, uncertain of what I was seeing. Was her chest moving?
Paralyzed, I remained motionless, praying that I would see movement. My feet forgot how to step as the plane glided through the night sky. I was transfixed by the vision of my own life coming to an end. Because if the woman on the couch died, I would too.
As the possibility of losing Adelaide forever began to seep into my consciousness, my own blood pressure skyrocketed. My heart pumped forcefully, ready to do the job for both of us. Regret and anger swirled within me, becoming the accelerants racing through my system.
There were too many years that we’d missed and too many apologies to ever voice. But that wasn’t what gave my feet permission to move. It was the rage growing within me. It wasn’t directed at the woman fighting for her life or even at myself. While the scene before me tinged with red, I made myself a vow. I would not rot in prison for kidnapping one of the only women I’d ever loved. Hell no. I’d walk into prison with my head held high for the uncontested murder of Alton Fitzgerald.
“Oren!”
Had Eva been speaking?
I snapped back to reality.
“Bring it here and look for an oxygen tank.”
“Is she…? Can you…?”
She extended her hand. “Give me the AED. I can’t detect a pulse.” When I didn’t move, she repeated herself louder and with even more authority. She was the doctor and taking charge.
Her tone was a technique I’d used myself, but not one I could recall having been used on me. I’d always been the one in control. Not now.
“Concentrate. Bring me the AED and look for the oxygen.”
“But you said the FAA—”
I slowly moved forward, handing Eva the bag.
“You were right. Every plane has emergency oxygen. On a plane this size…” She continued speaking as she hurriedly pulled a box with wires from the red zippered bag. “…it could be as simple as a small tank and mask. Keep looking. Ask the pilots if you have to.”
I can’t detect a pulse.
The words repeated on a loop, growing louder in my mind despite my attempt to silence them.
With shaking hands, I reached for the cabin’s ceiling. It was a futile attempt to steady myself and halt the growing nausea. Bile and acid bubbled from the depths of my stomach as Eva untangled the contents of the nylon bag. At the end of wires connected to the box she unsheathed two large pads, stickers really, and placed one on Adelaide’s side and the other above her breast. It was all happening merely a few feet away, but somehow I’d developed tunnel vision. With each second the tunnel grew longer, taking Adelaide and Dr. Rossi farther and farther away.
The box began to speak. “Assessing patient. Stand clear.”
Eva sat back on her heels allowing the AED to do its job.
“Shock needed.”
I held my breath.
As a high-pitched whine filled the cabin, the doctor’s eyes met mine. “Find the oxygen.”
I nodded, tearing my gaze away from the scene. The box’s voice joined the loop reminding me that Adelaide’s pulse had stopped. Together they were a sickening chorus, mocking my vain attempts at good.
Numbers filled the air as the pitch grew even higher. “Shocking patient.”
It was an audible zap. The muscles in my throat clinched, keeping the bile at bay as Adelaide’s body jumped. I hadn’t seen it, but I’d heard it, her weight falling back to the leather seat. It was worse than any TV show or movie as we waited for the box to reassess.
My teeth ached as I clenched my jaw, afraid to turn back around, afraid to know what Eva and the box were doing. Fuck, I’d been around death more times than I could count. But this was different, even different than with Angelina.
My ex-wife had fought a good fight. I hadn’t been with her as she took her last breath. The last time I’d seen her, we’d talked. I spoke more than she, but in her eyes I saw her answers and her truths. She’d made peace with her life and her death. Though losing her too young left a hole that can never be filled, knowing that she was ready for what awaited her gave me comfort.
Adelaide wasn’t ready. I’d seen her on the footage from Magnolia Woods. The last time she’d truly been conscious, she’d pleaded with Jane to speak with Alexandria. Adelaide Montague had more life to live. This wasn’t right.
“Help me move her to the floor.”
“The oxygen…”
“I need her on a hard surface to do CPR.”
“CPR?” I asked as I cradled Adelaide’s slack body and moved her to the floor.
“Yes, the shock didn’t work.”
I took a step back as Dr. Rossi fell to her knees. With her hands locked she leaned over Adelaide and pushed on her chest, counting aloud. I contemplated helping, but didn’t know what to do. I felt completely helpless as the box began to speak again.
“Stop CPR. Analyzing.”
My knees weakened and chin dropped to my chest with the sickening realization that both of Alexandria’s parents would be dead because of me. The love of my son’s life would hate me forever. Why shouldn’t she? It wouldn’t only be her: Lennox would hate me, too. Moisture that refused to stay contained trickled down my cheeks as I imagined my confession.