With This Heart(68)
There were voices talking, I could hear them through my haze, and yet they still seemed so far away.
“ I can’t believe you two went all the way to Marfa. What were you thinking? There’s not a proper medical facility for miles. What if the ambulance hadn’t gotten there in time?” my mother asked. Who was she talking to? I tried to pry my eyelids open, but they felt like lead weights. I could feel my fingers moving and I wiggled my toes so that the soft hospital sheet tickled the tips of them.
“ Oh! She’s awake! Nurse!” my mother called, and I tried to pry my eyes open again. This time a thin shaft of light appeared through my lids. I heard hurried footsteps as what I assumed to be the nurse ran into the room. The power controls of my bed cranked to life and my upper body began tilting upward. When was the last time I’d sat up?
Finally, I could blink my eyes open. It seemed like gravity had less of a hold on them now that I was sitting up.
I kept blinking, trying to adjust to the bright light of the room.
He was the first thing I saw.
Beck.
Sitting at the foot of my bed with crazy hair and bags under his eyes. He looked like he’d survived the zombie apocalypse. When our eyes met, he visibly sighed and ran a hand through his hair. I wanted him to move closer.
“ Abby, I’m so happy you’re awake, honey. How do you feel?” my mom asked, filling my vision with her brown curly hair.
“ She’s probably not feeling too well,” the nurse answered for me. I cast her an appreciative glance. She was older than my mom, with a no-nonsense ponytail and kind eyes. “I’ve put you on quite a heavy cocktail, Abby, so please try to relax. If you need anything, just press the call button for me, sweetie.”
I nodded gently and tried to clear my throat. It was dry and crackly.
“ I’ll go get you some water, hold on,” my mom called as she dashed out of the room. The second she was gone, I shifted toward Beck and expected him to jump up to kiss me, but he was keeping his distance. Why was he keeping his distance?
“ Beck,” I croaked. My voice sounded like I’d been smoking three packs a day for fifty years. But it worked; Beck hopped up and came toward me. He sat next to my body and laid his hand over mine. I couldn’t discern his expression, and for some reason that seemed more troubling than my failing heart.
“ I’m so…” he paused, looking down to our hands, “so sorry.”
His guilt was written across every single feature. His eyebrows sagged, his mouth frowned, and his hazel eyes held angry tears that he fought to contain.
“ No, no, Beck,” I started to argue, but then my mom came back with some ice chips and water. Her eyes landed on us sitting on the bed and her brows furrowed. I guess her opinion of Beck had changed since they’d last met. Did she blame him? He hadn’t done anything wrong. It was my fault that I didn’t take better care of my health.
“ I’ve got to run home and shower.” Beck peeled his hands away from mine and stood off the bed. I didn’t have time to protest. “And my dad wants to see me, so…”
I followed his body as he walked around my bed, past my mom, and through the hospital room door. My hand lay bereft on the sterile sheet.
“ You need to rest. Drink some water and try to sleep,” my mom said as she hushed me against my pillows.
Sleep. Sleep sounded heavenly. Sleep meant I didn’t have to worry about life or the fact that my hero had just walked out of mine.
I slept off and on over the next two days, and when I woke up, Beck wasn’t there. My mom was doing a crossword puzzle in the corner and the second my eyes opened, she hopped up off the chair and came over to sit with me.
To her credit, she asked me all of the necessary questions before laying into me about my carelessness and lack of responsibility concerning my health. I listened to her and nodded, agreeing with her completely. She was right after all. I couldn’t rely on my mother to take notes for me any longer. I wanted to know everything about my illness. There was always the possibility that my body could reject Colby’s heart, but I couldn’t skip appointments anymore. My life would just have to fit around them.
The rest of my day was a blur of various doctors running tests and discussing my treatment plans.
“ We’ve adjusted your medications and your body is no longer attacking your heart. However, we need you to stay for an extended period so that we can take routine biopsies,” my cardiologist explained when I asked how much longer I needed to be hospitalized. It was a vague answer and I had no way to gauge my plans for the future.
I kept expecting Beck to visit that day, but the later it became, the more I realized he probably wasn’t going to show. My phone sat on the bedside table, blank and foreboding.
“ Mom, do you think you could bring me a journal when you come back tomorrow?” I asked as she packed her stuff to head home to be with my father. I didn’t mind having to stay in the hospital by myself at night; it felt good to have a little privacy.
“ Sure thing. I’ll bring it with me in the morning.”
She kissed my forehead and stroked my hair back away from my face.
“ I’m really sorry about everything,” I told her, trying to erase some of the anger she was harboring toward Beck and I.
…
The next morning, my mother brought me a journal and I spent the first half of the morning writing down every detail of my trip with Beck. There were so many details that I didn’t want to forget about. I wanted to record each event so they would always be vivid memories I could flip back to and read again and again.