“No, Jim, no. I can’t. Not again. I can’t do this again.”
I stand and stare straight ahead as I listen to the music coming from Jimmie’s car. Her door is wide open and an old Bread song is playing and David Gates is singing that he would give up everything he owns and I would too, anything and everything, but I refuse to turn around and look at my world once again come crashing down around me.
Chapter Thirty-Two
I stare at the bricks on the wall, counting them, wondering how many bricks it had taken Cam to rebuild my heart. If Cam is gone, my heart will be irreparable. I will go on. I have to. I have four children relying on me, but never again will I allow myself to love or be loved, unless it is by my children or family.
Chaos surrounds me. My dad appears from behind the gates and sirens blare in the distance, getting closer. The image of what Tamara did to herself is burned into my retinas and I silently hope and pray that Harry never asks me about it.
I ride in the ambulance with Cam, but I have to sit in the front as there is no room in the back while the two paramedics work on him. I don’t look at him. He flat lines twice and I don’t turn to look at him, not once. I can’t, not again. I am terrified of seeing that vacant look in Cam’s eyes that I had seen in Sean’s.
When Sean died, I convinced myself he had told me that he loved me as we lay on that cold, snow-covered pavement, but later, when I spoke to the doctors and from what we were told at the inquest, that was impossible. The blow Sean received to his head as it hit the pavement would have meant his perception, comprehension, alertness and consciousness would have come to an instant grinding halt, making speech impossible.
His eyes were open, of that I’m absolutely sure, but they were vacant. He didn’t see me because he was already gone, and that was the look I was so afraid of seeing in Cam’s eyes.
When we get to the hospital, Cam is wheeled into the trauma unit while his heart is once again restarted and blood is fed into him.
I am moved out of the way and knocked into as doctors fight to save his life. I stand and watch as a young doctor sits astride his chest and holds her hand over the wound, trying to halt the flow of blood exiting his body. Another nurse rides on the side of the bed, squeezing at the bag of blood, hooked on the side, so it will pump into him faster than it is bleeding out. All of this is happening while they wheel him by me and up to theatre.
The trauma room falls silent. I stand and stare at all of the dark red blood on the tiled floor that leads a trail out of the room, following the path of the trolley Cam is on and all I can think is, carnage. Once again, I’m faced with a scene of complete an utter carnage. How ironic that that word has come to mean something so much more to me than the name of my husband’s band during my life.
I stare at the blood as a doctor or a nurse tells me what’s happening, I don’t know what they are saying. I don’t hear their words. I can hear sounds, doors opening, wheels squeaking, machines bleeping, but I can’t or won’t hear words. And then my dad and Jimmie appear and I hit the floor.
I don’t pass out. My legs just refuse to hold me up any longer. I spend the next two hours in silence, in an almost catatonic state. I wrap my arms around myself, too afraid to let go in case I disappear inside that huge gaping hole that has once again been punched inside my chest, my life, my world. Then Marley appears in the waiting room and puts Harry in my arms and I know that no matter what, I can’t fall apart. I have the support of a large and loving family, but in that moment, Harry has just me. He is all alone and totally dependent on me and me alone. So I sit and I hold him close. I feed and I change him. I take comfort in the warmth and the smell of his chubby little body, and thank God, I at least have this small piece of Cam with me.
Epilogue
The sensation of a stubbly chin rubbing up the inside of first my left, then my right thigh is dragging me from sleep. I’m bone tired and don't want to be awake yet. I try to close my legs and am met with a bite to my clit. I shudder and try to force my eyes open, but they aren't having any of it. I start to drift off to sleep again while enjoying the sensation of feather-light kisses travelling up my body. I feel calm and relaxed and give myself over to the sleep that I crave.
“Kitten, you need to wake up now.”
I lick my lips, but don't open my eyes. Why am I so tired?
“If you don't wake up, I'm gonna fuck you again.”
“Mmmmm,” is the best I can manage as I nod my head, my eyes still closed.
“In the arse, Kitten. If you don't wake up, I'm gonna tie you up and claim that arse of yours.”
My eyes fly open and are met with a familiar brown pair.
He smiles. “Good morning.”