Sweet Nothing(88)

“You really love him that much? You’d go back into a coma?”

“This isn’t my life, Deb. I know it sounds absolutely insane.”

“I believe you.”

“You do?”

She nodded. “But you can’t go back. We’ll just have to make sure Josh wakes up.”

“How?” I asked.

She shook her head, her hand pressing against her cheek. “I’ll take you there every day after PT. You talked him into marrying you once. Talk him into waking up.”





It had been ten days since I awoke from what I had thought was my life. Physical therapy was grueling. Even after just seven weeks, lying in bed motionless had made my muscles weak and scrawny, but I was determined to make progress. Every day, my body grew stronger, and even though I aspired to walk out of the hospital with my husband, my will to move forward diminished. My heart was broken. The love I’d felt had been very real.

Deb wheeled me into Josh’s room every day after PT. His body still lay unmoving, a shell of his former self. It was painful to see him so gaunt and weak, but I spoke to him for hours, telling him about our other life, and how we could have it again if he’d only wake up. I held his hand, knowing full well the rumors floating around the hospital, but Dr. Weaver had ordered another round of tests, seeing some change in Josh’s brain activity when I was in the room.

“I will be so glad to be able to take you home and feed you a decent meal.” Aunt Ellen slipped her hand over mine and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You are getting so thin.”

I smiled at her, hoping it looked convincing. I was grateful for her help, and I knew she had spent her savings to be by my side.

“I’d like to see Josh again. Could you tell Deb when she gets back?”

“You’ve spent two hours with him today, sweetheart.”

I tried to hold my smile, feeling I may come undone along my tattered edges if I didn’t get to see his face. The uncertainty in her eyes was obvious.

“I’m getting discharged tomorrow. It’s my last day.”

“So come back when you start your shift,” Aunt Ellen said, tucking my hair behind my ear.

“I won’t be cleared to work for a while. I don’t have a car. I don’t know when I can come back.”

“You’ll find a way.”

Like everyone else, Aunt Ellen didn’t understand. She was hoping I would forget my other life. She thought if I had enough time and space away from him, my love for him and my memories of our marriage would fade away. It wouldn’t.

“I should go now, before lunch,” I said, knowing I was pushing my luck. Aunt Ellen had no doubt heard the whispers around the hospital. “This whole thing is my fault,” I explained. “It only feels right that I offer him some company.”

She reluctantly held out her hand, but I waved it away, pushing myself to my feet. My body was stiff and ached from physical therapy, but nothing compared to the crippling pain in my heart.

My eyes teared as I gripped the handle of the muted silver cane that helped me to keep my balance. Every step was a struggle, but I made my way out of the room and down the hall. Physical therapy was difficult, but it was a relief not to have to depend on anyone else to take me to see Josh.

My chest heaved as I paused in front of Josh’s door to rest.

Quinn stepped out into the hall, pulling the door closed behind him.

“Any change?” I asked, hopeful.

Quinn’s head shook infinitesimally. “Nothing. Not a goddamn thing except for your visits. The second you leave, his brain activity slips right back.”

I looked down at the ridiculous slippers Deb had brought me. Pink bunny heads shook above my toes. “He will,” I choked out before sliding my hand over my cheek to wipe away a stray tear.

“Avery, I should probably tell you something. His dad got in last night.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “He’s decided to…” He took a step forward, pausing when my aunt touched my shoulder.

“Hi, Quinn. Nice to see you again,” Aunt Ellen said.

“Mrs. Collins,” Quinn said, nodding.

“Avery is being discharged in the morning. She’d like to say good-bye to Josh.”

“Not good-bye,” I said.

“Good-bye for now,” Aunt Ellen qualified.

Quinn glanced at her face before swallowing whatever information he was about to offer. “Good luck with your recovery, Avery. I hope to see you back at the hospital very soon.” He turned in the opposite direction, hurrying through the double doors.

Forcing myself to continue, I pressed my palm against Josh’s door, saying a silent prayer before pushing it open. A man was hunched over, sitting in the chair next to Josh’s bed. His head snapped up at the sound of my cane on the floor. When he turned, I saw the essence of a man I’d come to love in my other life.

“Hello, Mr. Avery. I’m Avery … Jacobs,” I stammered, the name sounding foreign.

He pushed from his seat and rounded the foot of the bed, holding out his arms. “I’m so glad you’re okay. I’m glad …” His voice caught in his throat as he struggled to contain his emotions. He pulled me in, and I let him, finally feeling something familiar.

“I am so sorry,” I whispered as Mr. Avery pulled me against his chest.