When August Ends(74)

Neil reached for my hand as we sat and waited for Noah to wake up.

An indeterminable amount of time went by before Noah finally opened his eyes. His dad and I leapt from our seats when his lids fluttered.

His father spoke first. “Son…it’s Dad. I’m here. Heather’s here, too.”

“Hi, baby,” I added. “I’m here, and I’m never leaving.”

Noah blinked.

I knew it would take a while for him to fully come to, but the longer he wasn’t saying anything, the more fearful I became.

I rubbed his shoulder. “It’s okay. Take your time. There’s no rush.”

“You’re going to be okay, son. I just know it.”

I lay my head next to his and began to pray silently. The sound of his breathing grew louder.

When I looked up again, his eyes were almost fully open, and he stared blankly back at me.

Oh my God.

Say something. Please. Anything.

“Hi…hi,” I whispered. “You have no idea how happy I am to see those beautiful eyes of yours. I love you, Noah. I love you so much.”

He didn’t respond, but a lone teardrop fell from his eye. He could hear me. But could he understand? Did he want to speak but couldn’t?

I hadn’t wanted him to see me upset, but I couldn’t help it as my own tears fell.

“It’s okay, son. Everything is going to be okay.”

I reached for Noah’s hand and held it. “We’ll be here with you every step of the way. Your mom is coming, too…and your brother. And Olivia is out there. Oh my God—she and I actually hugged. That’s how much we both love you.”

Please say something.

Please.

I kept talking to him. “I’ll make a deal with you. When you get better, I’m going to let you listen to every embarrassing song on my phone. You know I vowed never to let that happen. But you know what? It will be worth it. And I can’t wait to hear you make fun of me.”

For the next half-hour, Neil and I stayed at Noah’s bedside, offering words of encouragement in a desperate attempt to get him to say something—anything.

Then everything went silent for a while. I turned away for a moment, stepped over to the window to clear my head.

“Hea…”

I whipped back toward him.

Noah pushed the words out. “Hea…Heather…”

“Yes!” I rejoiced. “Yes. It’s me! I’m here with you.”

Neil let his tears fall for the first time since I’d arrived. “Dad is here, too,” he said.

Noah’s voice was groggy. “Where am I?”

“You’re in the hospital. You had surgery on your brain,” Neil answered.

Noah turned to me and asked, “Wha…what are you doing here?”

“Where else would I be?”

For several seconds, I waited with bated breath for his response.

He swallowed. “Vermont?”

Neil and I looked at each other. Vermont was such a simple answer, but it meant so much. It meant his cognition was there. It meant everything. It meant Noah was probably going to be okay.

“Do you remember anything that happened?” I asked.

It took him a while, but he finally said, “I remember I love you.”





CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT




* * *



NOAH




In a strange way, Bonnie and Clyde saved my life.

If I hadn’t gone to the supermarket that day to buy their food, I might not be alive. The store near my house never seemed to keep the kale they liked in stock. So I’d gone out of my way to the market across town. It happened to be right around the corner from the hospital. My surgeon was convinced if more time had elapsed before the operation, I might not have made it, or at the very least I would have had brain damage.

Thank God I wasn’t driving when it happened. And if I’d been home alone? I probably would have died. It was never easy to think about that. But I refused to dwell on what might have happened. It would have been easy to let all of the “what ifs” flood my mind, but I had too much to live for.

It had been three weeks since they’d admitted me, and I was finally set to be discharged today. I was more than ready to go home. Keeping me here was standard protocol, though, because of the high risk of complications after surgery.

I remembered very little about the moments before my aneurysm ruptured—aside from the urgent need to talk to Heather to tell her I loved her, and a headache. Other than that, I didn’t remember anything until I woke up and found Heather and my dad hovering over me. It had taken a while to realize I wasn’t dreaming.

It was better that I hadn’t been aware of what was in store for me that day. If I’d known my head was going to be sliced open, and that fifty percent of people don’t survive a ruptured aneurysm, I probably would have had a heart attack—especially since at the time, I hadn’t had the chance to tell Heather how I feel.

The first week after my recovery was the toughest. People visited, but I still felt really out of it. Heather was my rock through it all. She’d left everything behind in Vermont to stay by my side. I couldn’t even argue with her decision because I didn’t know how I could get through this time stuck in the hospital without her.