A Walk in Your Shoes

CHAPTER 32

The drive to the hospital takes a lifetime. Dad offers to drive me after he watched my hands shake while grabbing the car keys. Yesterday was exactly what I needed to feel better. Dad took me into the music room, and we spent most of the day jamming on and off. My brothers joined in, and Lucille was our number one fan. It was excellent, and I loved every minute of it.

Dad has some errands to run, so as we pull up to the hospital, he puts the car in park at the front visitor entrance. His hand folds over mine. I hadn't realized how tight they were gripping the seat.

"I'll be back in two hours. So, be good, okay?"

I nod. "I'm scared he's not going to wake up. I didn't hear any news from Ramona, so I don't know what to expect."

Dad holds my hand tighter. "No news is usually good news, sweetie."

I sigh, not entirely convinced of that statement. After a few minutes of convincing myself to go, I get out of the car and wave goodbye as dad pulls away.

When I arrive, Ramona isn't in the waiting room, so I stop at the nurses' station. They direct me to the same room he was in the other day. Stepping inside the room, I immediately notice that his color is back. Even with the deep purple bruising, he looks much healthier than he had. The monitor continues its steady beat.

I'm not sure what I want to do. I worry that if he wakes and sees me here that he'll tell me to go away. I wouldn't want to see me either. Taking a deep breath, I walk over to the orange chair at his bedside. As I glance around the room, I notice more of its emptiness than before. It's a lonely environment.

Reaching out, I cover my hand over his. I miss his warmth. I glance up at his face. His lips form a straight line. I crave his smile more than I thought. I sit quietly. Words don't come easily to me, only on paper. The knot returns, and I'm on the verge of tears. I once heard that talking to someone who isn't conscious will help wake them.

Swallowing hard, I suck in a breath. "Hey, it's Marnie. I've been trying to find the courage to say how I feel. In my head, through text, or on paper, the words come easy, but when said aloud, they come out a jumbled mess." Tears start to fall, but I'm not sobbing, and that's good. It means I can do this.

"I keep thinking that if I didn't make you angry that day, if I just told Tanya the truth, you wouldn't be lying here in this hospital bed." I choke up a little. "It's only been a few days, but I miss you. I check my phone for lyrics to come, and they don't." My voice breaks.

I have to give myself a moment to collect my thoughts before I continue. I want to say the right things, even if he can't hear me. But mostly, I want this nightmare to be over. For a brief moment, I bury my face in my hands in an attempt to pull myself together. He needs to know how I feel. Then, reaching out again, I swear his fingers move against mine. There's a soft flutter low in my stomach.

"I love you more than I've loved anyone before. There I admit it," I half-laugh, and it sounds crazy. "I can already hear your voice making dumb comments while I confess my feelings." Now I've started sobbing again.

"I can't tell you if I'll still love you a few days from now or a few months from now. I have no freaking clue. All I know is that I'm hanging by..."

"Every moment here with you..."

I gasp and pull my hand away, covering my mouth. I stare at him. I'm tongue-tied. He grins. A deep chuckle rumbles low in his chest, causing him to cough. He groans a little. It serves him right for scaring the shit out of me.

"That was not what I was about to say. How dare you trick me! Wait, how much of that did you hear?" My cheeks are warm.

"So, you love me, huh?" he asks, trying to twist his body towards me. His voice is raspy, and he tries to clear it again.