The sound of rain against the roof, the wind whipping through the trees pulls me from sleep. The weather report had been the furthest thing from my mind as Pops has been taking up top billing ever since Chris got the messages in Vegas.
Vegas. Today was suppose to be very different for us. We were meant to be exhausted from other activities and yet here we are, drained from the large spectrum our emotions have encountered over the last day and a half.
In just a matter of seconds I went from the most joy and excitement I'd felt in my entire life to the harshest pain I've ever experienced. I know that in any given moment that pain can be replaced by one more severe. And I dread the reality of it coming true.
Even now my mind is the only thing aware of the storm raging outside, as I find it difficult to pry open my eyes. Instead I just roll over, never opening my eyes and sink down further into the pillow. The shuffle of my own body causing Chris to also shift, his arm now draped over my waist just before feeling his breath against the back of my neck, his light snores never ceasing through the movement.
I'm doing the best that I can to keep the resentment I have towards him at bay. I keep telling myself that whether I had been in Atlanta when we received the message or Vegas, I still would not have been with Pops any quicker. And yet, the smallest part of my heart is still angry with me for allowing Chris to encourage the reckless behavior.
Maybe I'm frustrated with myself for being in Atlanta at all. Why didn't I question that coughing fit Pops had when I picked up Granny's dress? I should've pushed him, but no, I suppose I was blinded by the prospect of being in Chris' arms again.
Truthfully, thanks to Chris, and my stupid walls I've let down, I've lost out on a lot of time with Pops. The trips to Atlanta, the New Years spent in New York. Knowing now that the time is getting even smaller just reminds me of the moments I've missed out on with the ornery man.
But then on the other hand, because of Chris, I've experienced things with Pops that would've otherwise never happened. Our Valentine's dinner, the pinning ceremony, the engagement.
How does one weigh these emotions against one another? This isn't something I've experienced before, having kept my heart guarded after my youthful indiscretions. For so long I was sure that the only man I ever needed was the old man that claimed me as his own child at the age of four. The man that never made me feel like I belonged with anyone other than Granny and himself.
Would I trade any of them for more time? Would I be willing to give up Chris to have had that time with him? Would I give up my future for more moments in my past?
All questions I don't want to answer.
All questions that as long as I keep them unasked to the world I can keep unanswered.
By the time my eyes are able to finally pry themselves open the storm has passed and the sun is shining brightly. Sitting up in a panic I realize the time must be later than we originally planned to be back at the hospital. I reach for my phone but then notice it's not on my bedside table. Looking to my right I see that Chris is no longer there. I rush to my bedroom door pulling it open in a hurry, noticing noise coming from the kitchen.
"Crap! Chris!" I yell as I run down the hallway, stopping short of the kitchen when I see Chris standing with two coffee cups. "What are you doing? Why didn't you wake me up? We're late!"
"First, here," he passes a cup to me. The steam rising immediately under my nose, filling me with the scent of pumpkin. "Second, I called the hospital. He's still stable and did well through the night. They're going to try and wean him from the vent this afternoon."
My lip automatically trembles at his words. "Really?"
His tender smile matches the small nod of his head, "really."
The sigh that escapes me comes out more like a sob, relief wrecking my chest this time. Chris reaches over, taking the warm liquid from my hand for fear of me spilling it all over myself. He sets both cups on the table before enveloping me with his arms. He just holds me, and it's everything I need.
"Now," he starts, causing me to lift my head from his chest. "Good morning, gorgeous." That infamous smirk across his lips enticing me enough to bring my lips directly to his own.
"Good morning indeed," I reply as his hands smooth my hair away from my face.
"Take a seat, Ope. I made breakfast."
I do as I'm told, my eyes narrowing. "You cook about as much as I do, Sergeant." He walks two plates to the table, setting one in front of me. I stare at the breakfast casserole, eyes going between it and him. "You didn't make this."
He reels back in shock, his hand going to his chest, mouth wide. "Yes I did."
I shake my head from side to side, my brow quirking as I look at him. "This has Mila written all over it." I take the fork, lifting the casserole up. "Yep. Hashbrowns crispy on the bottom. That's her signature with casseroles." I point the fork at Chris who has now crossed his arms against his chest. "Explain."
"It was in the freezer. I followed the directions. I cooked you breakfast. End of story." He bobs his head side to side as he give his explanation.
"You're a mess," I smile at him over my coffee cup, "and I love you."
He just gives me a wink as he stabs his fork through the dish and lifts the bite to his lips.
Chris POV
Dishes cleaned and a couple showers later we find ourselves back at the hospital. I had already messaged the group to tell them we wouldn't be there until around ten so they could plan accordingly should they be joining us.
The walk through the halls feels different today, and for good reason. There's hope at the end of them this time.
Opal speaks to me this time, walking beside me, holding my hand. I even witness a couple of smiles as we pass by the maternity ward. I give her hand a gentle squeeze, seeing her eyes light up at me.
"You wanna come in with me?" she asks as we reach the CCU. We walk past the waiting room, seeing it empty with the exception of one man.
"If you want me to," I say, giving her the option.
"Well silly, I did just ask you didn't I?"
"Good point," I reply, lifting her knuckles to my lips.
We stop just shy of the room, using the hand sanitizer from the container attached to the wall. Opal quickly rubs it into her hands before sliding Pops' door open. "You decent, old man?" she asks him even though she's well aware he won't answer her. It gives her a sense of normalcy and I can't fault her for it. "Who am I kidding? You're never decent." She leans over the bed giving him a quick kiss to his cheek.
Her actions today warm my heart. Her behaviors are exactly the way they would be if we were visiting him at his home. She pulls the chair up next to him today, grabs his hand and just holds it. I take a spot across the room, leaning back against the wall and just watch the two of them. Even now, their bond is evident.
"I've got a secret to tell you," she says to him over the breaths of the vent. She leans up on the bed with her elbows, casting a glance at me. I look back at her, confused with where she's going with this. "Chris and I tried to pull a you and Granny."
A deep chuckle rumbles through my chest and over my lips causing her to look at me again.
"But then you had to go and pull this stunt, putting a halt to the whole shebang," she playfully teases him. "I was all ready. Had Granny's wedding dress on and everything. Chris looked so handsome in his suit. I was ready to throw all caution to the wind and take the insane leap and become his wife." I just continue watching her with him, the jest and the intimacy within this moment. "I told Chris you might try and beat him up for it, but I think he was right. You'd have been okay with it, wouldn't you have, Pops?" She takes a small breath, the exhale coming out a bit ragged as she moves his hand up to rest against her lips. "So, since you kind of put a whole stop to the first wedding, I'm gonna need you to be here for the second one. When they take you off the vent this afternoon, I'm gonna need you to fight one more time for me, okay?"
I feel the warmth of the tears fall down my own cheeks as I see hers landing on his wrinkled, bruised hand. I swipe mine away quickly, hopeful to catch them before Opal notices. But, instead she looks up at me as I lift my hand.
"Looks like I got an old softy like you, Pops." She returns my smile with one of her own, through her tears. She places his hand back gently on the bed before coming towards me, tucking her head in my chest, leaning into me. My hands automatically begin rubbing her back, my lips resting on top of her head, the stray hairs from her messy bun tickling against my nose.
"You'll have a softy with you forever, Ope," I assure her. "That will never change."
"Hmm..." she hums against me.
"What is it, love?"
"Something about that just sounds familiar. I can't place it though," she admits, looking up at me. I lean down pecking a kiss on the tip of her nose causing her to scrunch it up.