“No!” I cried, pulling into the fetal position on the floor.
Aunt Ellen sank to her knees, wrapping her arms around me and holding me to her chest. “Should I call Deb?” she asked.
“No, she’s at work. I just passed out,” I said, reaching for my wrist. I counted. “I’m fine. Just weak. I should rest.”
Aunt Ellen helped me up, guiding me to the bed. “Is there someone else you want me to call?”
My husband, I thought, feeling my face crumble.
I rushed through a shower, unable to look away from the spot on the floor where Avery had sat, her knees pulled against her belly, looking betrayed. I couldn’t get her expression out of my mind. Guilt consumed me, knowing the pain I had caused her, and the inevitable pain that awaited her when she woke up.
My eyes burned as tears streamed down, mingling with the hot water from the shower. The gravity of the situation had finally hit me. Even if Avery woke, I could still lose her. Placing my palm against the wall to hold my weight, I let the pain and anger roll through me until I was too exhausted to support my own weight.
“Why couldn’t it be me?” I choked out as my forehead fell against the cold tile. I would have given anything to be the one in that car, to be the one in that hospital bed, lost in an eternal dream state.
The house phone beeped from down the hall, letting me know the answering machine had been overloaded with messages. I ignored the noise. Talking about it with someone else would make it all too real.
Turning off the water, I wrapped myself in a towel and stepped out onto the tile, glowering at my own reflection in the mirror. Purple half-moons bruised the skin beneath my bloodshot eyes, my heartache manifesting itself in my appearance. I looked away, rubbing the fluffy towel over my face, wiping away the water and tears that came flooding back. Avery was all around me, in the pink toothbrush sitting in the holder, the perfume bottle behind the faucet, even the fluffy towel around my waist.
The house felt so empty. Calling it a home without her in it was wrong. The heels of my hands turned white against the edge of the counter. The odds of her coming back to me were slim. I was stuck in a nightmare. Tears trickled down the bridge of my nose, dripping from the tip into the sink.
My head snapped up when Dax pawed at the door, and when I pulled it open, he danced around, needing to be let out.
I sniffed and then rubbed my face with both hands. “Give me a minute, okay?”
I padded to the bedroom and hurried to get dressed. I passed the kitchen, barely giving it a second glance. My stomach growled in protest, but I couldn’t imagine sitting down to a leisurely meal knowing Avery was still in the hospital.
Exhaustion and skipping meals were beginning to take their toll. My body felt weighted by sand as I dragged myself around our small home. I patted my pockets and turned on my heels to search the bedroom for my wallet. I passed Penny’s nursery on the way and froze in her doorway. A sinking feeling overwhelmed me. My selfishness had hurt her, too.
I backed out into the hallway and trudged down the hall. After finding my wallet, I made my way back to the front door. Dax panted as I latched his leash to his collar. His nails tapped against the wooden flooring as he walked with me outside.
I stood in the grass, waiting for Dax to do his business. Cinda had been coming over to help out with him, but he was alone in the apartment all day. I looked down at him. “I called Cinda, buddy. You’re going to stay with her for a while. How does that sound?” The sound of my voice was even more depressing. I couldn’t even pretend for the dog.
With his back legs, Dax scratched at the grass and then shook his entire body.
“Good boy,” I said, reaching down to pat his back.
My cell rang in my pocket and I pulled it out, fumbling to answer Quinn’s call.
“Is she awake?” I blurted out, prepared for disappointment.
“You need to get back here, man.”
“What happened?” I said, sounding more accusatory than I meant.
“She’s awake … I just … Get back here, Josh. Leave now.”
I could hear voices in the background. Crying. Shouting.
“I’m sorry, Avery. You’re too upset,” a voice called out in the background.
“Is that Doc Rose?” I asked. “What’s going on?
“You’re damn right I’m upset! Don’t do this! Please! Please!” Avery begged. My heart hammered against the wall of my chest at the sound of her voice in the distance.
“She’s awake. Thank God,” I choked out in relief. I held the phone to my ear, raking back my hair with the other hand.
“He just needs a little more time. Just a little more time.” Her fear was palpable.
“Is she … is she okay?” I asked Quinn, tugging Dax up the steps to our front door. “Did she wake up confused?”
I scrambled to find the right key and then shoved it in the lock, opening the door just long enough for Dax to run in, still attached to his leash.
I ran to the garage, holding the phone to my ear with my shoulder while I twisted the ignition. “You still there, Quinn?”
“Yeah. Yeah, but …”
“But what? I’m in the car. Does she not want me there?”
“Yeah,” he breathed out. “She definitely wants you here. That’s the only sense she’s making.”
“Tell her I’m on my way.”
“I can’t.”
I dropped the phone into my lap, tapping speakerphone. The SUV revved as I backed out of the drive and onto the street. “What do you mean you can’t?”
“She’s not listening to anyone. She’s combative. She’s saying weird shit.”
“Like what?” I asked, pressing on the gas. My eyebrows pulled together. I had feared so much that she wouldn’t wake up or wouldn’t come home if she did. It hadn’t occurred to me the millions of other problems she could have. “Has the doc ordered a CT? Maybe there’s swelling,” I said, swallowing hard. “It could be a brain bleed. He needs to run tests. Now.”
“He’s not going to take orders from me, Josh. You know that,” Quinn said, sounding half worried, half frustrated. “She’s … she keeps asking you to wake up.”
“What?”
“She keeps saying it over and over. She wants you to wake up.” He began imitating her. “‘Wake up, Josh. Listen to my voice. Come back to me. I need you to wake up.’ Her eyes are wide open, man. It’s like she’s talking to you, but you ain’t here. It’s … you just need to get here.”
“Wake up?” I asked. “She’s asking me to wake up?”
“Wake up,” Quinn said, over and over. “It’s time for you to wake up.”
I clicked my nails on the table, staring out the window at the street outside. A Buick was parked in place of Josh’s SUV. Quinn said Josh wouldn’t be able to drive the Barracuda. It was bent and crumpled in a salvage yard next to the Prius.
There were a few lucky, blissful nights I dreamed of Josh, but it was nothing like before. His face was blurred, his voice not quite as comforting as I remembered.
“Avery?” Deb called from the kitchen. She brought me a bowl of steaming soup, setting it on the table. “Avery,” she chided, “if you get like this every time I bring news about Josh, I can’t keep doing it. It’s not good for you.”
“No,” I said, snapping out of my stare. “It’s okay. I want to know.”
“I thought you’d be happy. Helping people is what he does. His dad donating his organs just makes sense out of all this.”
I swallowed. “Planning for his death before he’s dead is wrong. He’s not dead. However you look at it, Josh protected me. Now he’s spare parts.” I thought about my Prius and shivered.