Wethering the Storm

Chapter TWENTY-ONE

I pace the foyer of the small wing where Tru and my son now are. Security flanks the door behind me.
As I knew would happen, the press are camped outside.
They won’t even give me space to figure my way through this. It’s all over the news—the accident, Tru’s condition, and how my son was brought into this world.
A few hours ago, a reporter managed to sneak his way into the hospital. His aim was to get a picture of Tru in her hospital bed.
What kind of sick f*ck does that?
If he had gotten anywhere near her, I would have killed him where he stood.
It turns out the guy never even made it down the hall.
Dave set up residency outside Tru’s room the second he was released. With his broken arm, he dragged the reporter out of there. Or so I’ve been told. I didn’t see it myself. I was with my son at the time. I hate that I wasn’t there.
For Tru and my son’s safety, I had them moved to a private wing. Their rooms are next to one another’s, with Dave situated outside Tru’s door and a guard outside my son’s. Security is covering both entrances and exits.
I haven’t spoken to Dave about the accident or the incident with the reporter. I haven’t spoken to him at all.
In a brief conversation with Denny earlier, he told me Dave is blaming himself for the accident.
It wasn’t his fault.
Have I told him that?
No.
Why?
I’m not entirely sure.
And why am I here pacing the floor outside the elevators and not with Tru right now?
Because Billy and Eva are on their way up.
And I am so very f*cking terrified to see them.
I haven’t spoken to them yet. Ben picked them up from the airport and drove them straight here.
I haven’t spoken to them because I don’t know what to say.
Do I say I’m sorry?
Because I am. So very f*cking sorry.
I’m sorry I didn’t get Tru to stay home with me that morning. Sorry I didn’t protect her like I promised I would. Sorry I brought her to LA.
If I had never talked Tru into moving to LA, this never would have happened.
We should have moved to the UK. If we had, she wouldn’t be in that hospital bed fighting for her life.
Fighting. For. Her. Life.
I want to fight. I want to fight this f*cking pain out of me.
I want to beat the shit out of the motherf*cker who got drunk, and then climbed into his car and ran that red light, changing our lives irrevocably. I hate that he’s dead, because I want to kill him myself. I want to kill that bastard over and over again for what he’s done to my girl.
I feel like I haven’t breathed since I saw her. All those tubes were coming out of her body, with the sound of the ventilator’s pumping giving me the only sign she’s still alive.
I miss her so f*cking much.
I miss her voice. Her smile. Her beautiful brown eyes gazing at me in that special way.
If she dies…if I lose her…I don’t think I’ll be able to go on.
How do you live when your life dies?
The light in the elevator bank signals an imminent stop.
My mouth dries and my hands start to shake. I flex my fingers in and out.
The door slides open. I see Eva first.
I hadn’t realized until this moment just how much Tru looks like her mom.
Seeing Eva, her eyes wide with fear and heartbreak, looking like Tru, twists a knife in my heart.
Her eyes meet mine and I see them fill with tears. “Oh, Jake.” Her voice breaks. She rushes toward me, throwing her arms around me, and cries into my T-shirt.
I try to hold it together, but then Billy is there. He puts one arm around Eva, the other around me, and I break down.
After a moment, I wipe my face dry on my sleeve. Needing to regain some space and composure, I take a step back from them both. “Shall I take you to Tru?” I ask, my voice hoarse.
Dabbing her eyes dry with a tissue, Eva replies, “Yes,” at the same time as Billy.
As we walk to Tru’s room, I’m relieved for the space to piece myself back together.
Listening to Billy and Eva cry for Tru was like feeling their heartbreak coupled in with my own.
I know heartbreak. I felt it when Tru left me when I f*cked up with the drugs.
But this—it’s like my heart is slowly dying, gasping for the fuel it needs to go on. Tru. I know, unequivocally, if I lose her, everything that is me will go with her.
As we approach Tru’s room, Dave stands.
He’s the only one here at the moment. I sent everyone to the hotel across the street.
I needed them all out of here.
I told them Billy and Eva would need space with Tru. But honestly, I just couldn’t cope with Simone’s constant crying. Stuart’s worrying eyes on me. Even Tom was driving me insane. He kept looking at me like he was expecting me to fall over the edge. I know what he was thinking.
What they’re all thinking.
Worrying I’ll do what I always do when things get hard—run straight to the ready hands of a dealer.
I’m not doing that this time.
Things are bad enough without me being the coward I know I am and erasing the pain with coke.
I knew it was only going to get so much harder when Billy and Eva arrived.
I just didn’t realize how much harder.
“Mr. and Mrs. Bennett, I’m so very sorry about Tru.” I notice that Dave can’t meet their eyes.
I watch Eva’s eyes rake over Dave’s injuries, then come back to his face. “Dave, you were with Tru…in the accident?”
He nods solemnly, his eyes going to the floor. “Yes. I was driving the car.”
“Was she…awake after the accident?”
Fear clings to my skin. I hadn’t asked this question, because I was afraid of the answer. I can’t bear to think of Tru in pain. The thought alone tears me to pieces.
Dave looks up, first at me, then Eva. “No.” He shakes his head. “She didn’t wake up.”
I hear a rush of breath come from Billy, mirroring my own. As I glance at him, I see how very bad he looks.
Unshaven, crumpled, quiet. Not the Billy I know.
She’s his little girl. This is killing him.
We need to get this over with. They need to see Tru.
I take the lead, heading for the door, and they both follow.
From the instant they see her, their reaction is no different than mine was.
It hurts so f*cking much to hear their pain. Watch them sob over her bedside.
It’s crippling.
I feel like I’m drowning again. Fighting against the tide with no way of surfacing. Suffocating under the pressure of the emotions in the room. I know I have to get out of here.
Slipping out of the room quietly, I leave them alone.
Fogged up, my head aching, I take the seat beside Dave.
We sit in mutual silence for a long moment.
“I don’t blame you,” I finally say. I take a deep breath, then turn and look at him. “I know you will have done everything you could to protect her. I know what kind of man you are.”
Dave turns, briefly meeting my eyes. He gives a slow nod, then quickly looks away. I don’t miss the tears misting up his eyes.
The door to Tru’s room opens soon after, and Billy and Eva emerge.
“Can we see him?” Billy asks.
“Of course.” I get up and lead the way to my son’s—their grandson’s—room.
I push the door open. The nurse is sitting in a chair by his incubator, reading.
Closing her book, she stands at our entrance. “I’ll give y’all a moment,” she says, exiting the room.
The room is so silent. The only sound is the blipping of the machine.
I walk over and stare down at my sleeping boy. I get a heavy combination of love and heartbreak every time I look at him.
Turning back, I see Billy and Eva still standing near the door.
“He’s sleeping,” I say quietly.
Billy is first to move. He walks over to the incubator and stands beside me.
I hear his breath catch. Lifting his gaze back to Eva, he says to her, “He looks just like Tru.”
I bite my quivering lip, hard, to stop the flow of emotion I feel coming, and I get a sharp taste of blood in my mouth.
Eva comes over, so I stand back to give them space.
I know why they were hesitant to see him once they were in here. They fear he might be all they’ll have left of Tru.
I know this because it’s what I’m so very f*cking terrified of myself.
Resting her hand lightly on the top of the incubator, Eva turns to me. “Do you have a name for him?”
“No.” I shake my head. “We couldn’t agree on one.”
Tru and I had so many disagreements over baby names. But now it all just seems so irrelevant. I would give anything for her to be here with me, naming our son.
“I don’t want to name him until Tru wakes up.” I clear my throat. “I want her to choose his name.”
Eva nods. “I think she’ll like that, Jake.” She looks back down at my boy. “For now, my little darling,” she says, smiling, “until your mummy wakes up, you’re Baby Wethers-Bennett.”