"SARAH, CALM down."
"Who was driving the fucking car, Brett? I swear to God, if you don't tell me, I'm going to get out of this bed and ask Caleb myself."
"You have to calm down, or the doctors are going to kick me out."
"Who was driving the fucking car?" she screams with a guttural intensity that makes me know she will make good on her threat of asking Caleb. The last thing in the world she needs to do was talk to Manda's grieving fiancé.
"We don't know, beautiful. Witnesses at the restaurant said you were driving, but the first on scene said it was a redhead behind the wheel. You were both thrown from the car, we honestly don't know." I try to explain as gently as I can.
"Oh my God, I killed her. I killed Manda!" she yells slapping her hand over her mouth and dropping her chin to her chest.
"Hey, stop! You didn't kill her. Even if you were driving, you did not kill Manda." I move closer, trying to find a part of her body to rub that isn't covered in a bruise. I fail miserably, instead deciding to just lean my forehead to hers.
"Get out," she whispers from behind her hands.
"I'm not going anywhere, baby."
"Get the fuck out of my room. I don't want to look at your face right now." Her tone is filled with hate, a strain in her voice that in all of our seven years together, I have never heard her use.
I look around the room, clueless as to what to say or why her rage is aimed at me. Just as I decide that maybe leaving is the best option if she is going to be this upset, she starts hitting the nurse call button and screaming for help. I stand rooted to the ground as she unravels in front of me.
Kicking and screaming, she starts trying to get on her feet. She hysterically starts to remove her IV and other monitoring wires, but only succeeds in reopening the gash on her arm. I watch frozen as blood drips down to the floor. Finally, I snap out of my stupor and grab her battered body to restrain her movements.
"Jesus Sarah, what are you doing? Stop it. You're going to hurt yourself."
"Get your fucking hands off me. Get out!" She starts flailing her legs and banging her head against the back of the bed when I manage to pin the rest of her body down.
The nurses run in, pushing me out while they try to sedate her. I stand outside her room in a fog, replaying the last few minutes over and over in my head. Despite how long I stand there, I can't figure out what set her off like that. Did I say something, or is this just survivor’s guilt running its course? I can't imagine what I could have said. She didn't even react that wildly when we told her Manda didn't make it.
A few minutes later Dr. Lee walks out and stands directly in front of me. "She's asleep," he says, shoving his hands into the pockets of his scrubs.
"What the hell happened in there?"
"Mr. Sharp, I have no idea. You have to understand Sarah's body and brain have gone through a lot. She is grieving the loss of her friend while trying to heal herself. Sometimes the heart takes a little longer than the brain to heal."
I swear to God, the doctor is standing here giving me his own version of Chicken Soup for the Soul while talking about my wife, who just lost her goddamn mind because she didn't want to even look at my face.
“I'm sorry, but I'm going to need to request a second opinion from a doctor who actually attended medical school instead of the Kumbaya Academy of America. What the fuck just happened in there?" I yell, frustrated beyond all reason.
"I don't have any answers for you tonight, Mr. Sharp. Let's let Sarah sleep for a while, and we will reevaluate her physical and mental state when she wakes up. You can go back in now. She has been sedated and should be asleep for at least six hours. I'm sure when she wakes up, she would like it if you were by her side. These kinds of things happen after traumatic events. Don't read too much into it."
"Right." I nod in absolute disbelief.
I have no idea what happened inside that room, but it's nothing that six hours of drug-induced sleep is going to fix. I saw the look in her eyes when she told me to leave. Those weren't the eyes of my loving wife even if she was grief stricken. Those were the eyes of my worst enemy and I have no idea how to even begin processing that.
Instead of going back into her room, I walk down the hall to see Caleb still sitting in the waiting room.
"Hey," I say as I stop in front of him.
"How is she?" he asks, but never looks up at me.
Running my hands through my hair, I let out a loud sigh. "I don't know, man. Something's not right, but she'll live."
"Well, that must be nice."
"God, I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking. I-"
"I can't leave," he interrupts, dropping his head into his hands and ignoring my apology.
"Come on man, you need to go home. You want me to call one of the guys to give you a ride?"
"I can't leave. Not while Manda's still here."