These Tangled Vines(78)
Lillian bent over him. “Freddie, darling, I’m not leaving you. I’m right here.”
His face contorted with a look of intense pain. “I’m scared. What’s going to happen to me?”
“Don’t be scared. I’m here. I’ll always be here, and I’ll take care of you. Everything’s going to be fine.”
Her heart squeezed wretchedly as she grasped his terrible fear of what the future would hold for him and his fear of losing her. Overcome with sorrow, barely able to keep her balance, she looked him in the eye and spoke fiercely. “And do not ever say to me that you’re going to die. You’re going to get through this. We’re going to get through it together, and if you give up, I swear to God, Freddie, I’ll never forgive you.” She squeezed her eyes shut, pushed through her grief, and braced herself for the tests and trials that lay ahead. “Whatever Anton said to you, it’s not true. I’m not leaving you. You’re my husband, and I love you. I’ll never leave you, Freddie, I promise. In sickness and in health, till death do us part. Remember? Are you going to break that promise to me?”
He blinked sleepily, then drifted off. Numb with shock, stunned, and disoriented, Lillian stared at him for an agonizing moment. A medical team arrived to take him to the OR. After they wheeled him away, she sank onto the chair and wept inconsolably.
It was a short walk to the hotel after Freddie was taken into surgery, which she had been told could last five or six hours or more. In a horrendous daze, Lillian collected the room key from the front desk clerk, who cheerfully informed her that the room was already paid for.
Slipping the key into the lock, she surrendered to her exhaustion, aching for the soft bed that awaited her. The lock clicked, and she pushed the door open but stopped in the doorway when her gaze fell upon the bed, which was not empty.
“Anton . . . ,” she uttered softly.
He was stretched out on top of the covers, asleep. At the sound of her voice, he sat up and quickly stood but did not approach her.
“You’re back,” he said. “How is he?”
Caught off guard by Anton’s presence in the room, Lillian closed the door behind her, walked in, and set her purse on the TV cabinet. “He’s the same. No change. And he’s in surgery now.” They stared at each other uncertainly for a few seconds. “I didn’t expect you to be here.”
She didn’t want him there. She wanted to be alone.
Anton took a step toward her, but she held up a hand. “Please, don’t try to comfort me. I don’t want that. I couldn’t bear it.”
If she fell apart now, there would be no coming back from it.
“I understand,” he replied, watching her retreat into the bathroom.
She shut the door behind her and stared at herself in the mirror, then turned on the faucet and washed her hands. She didn’t need to use the toilet—she had used the washroom at the hospital on her way out—but she didn’t want to open the door either. She needed time to get over the shock of seeing Anton in her bed.
Heaven help her. Despite everything, his mere presence, without a word spoken, touched something deep inside her heart. And her body still yearned for him. One look into his eyes shook her to the core and made her want to melt into his arms for the comfort he would provide—but she couldn’t do that. Everything was tainted now. Because of what they had done together, Freddie was in critical condition and might never walk again.
Searching for strength to get through this, Lillian reached for the door handle and walked out of the bathroom. Anton was still standing there, exactly where she had left him.
He gestured to a shopping bag on a table in the corner of the room. “I got you a toothbrush and some clean clothes for tomorrow.”
She warmed at his kindness but fought to remain steady on her feet. When she moved to look inside the bag, she found socks and underwear, some toiletries, a pair of jeans, sweatpants, pajamas, and a few T-shirts.
“This is helpful. Thank you.” She faced him, and they stared at each other in silence until she couldn’t do it anymore. She couldn’t keep from expressing her feelings. “I’m never going to forgive myself,” she said.
“No,” Anton firmly replied. “It’s my fault, not yours. I shouldn’t have told him you were leaving him. I should have left that to you. You would have handled it better. Now, I’m afraid you’re going to hate me forever.” He shook his head with remorse.
She moved to the bed and sat down. “I don’t hate you.”
Anton sat down beside her and took hold of her hand.
“You didn’t know Freddie was going to be on the road where he was,” Lillian said. “And he was throwing punches at you. I understand why you were concerned about me. At first, I wasn’t sure, I didn’t know what to think, but now I understand why you were driving fast. I know you would never wish to harm anyone. That’s not who you are.”
Anton spoke somberly. “What will happen now?”
Watching how his thumb gently stroked her knuckles, she found herself speaking matter-of-factly, as if she had tossed her heart into a deep grave and was now shoveling dirt upon it. “He’ll be in surgery for the next few hours, but the doctors said it could be weeks before he’ll be stable enough to go home. Then he’ll need to go into a rehabilitation facility and learn how to live, probably as a quadriplegic. But it’s not just the broken spinal cord that causes trouble. He’s going to be vulnerable to all sorts of infections, and in his weakened state . . .”