24
“Sweetie, you have to eat something.” Patricia urges me to eat the lunch they brought in.
All three scrambled back here when they were informed about what happened with Drake. Hugh and my mom are at the connecting private lounge, but I stick next to Drake because I promised that I would stay close and because I don’t want to be anywhere else. My place is with him. It always has been. It was only a matter of time until he and I realized that.
“Do you mind just bringing the food in here with me? I don’t want to leave his side.” Patricia smiles sadly at me. Dark circles and frown lines that were not there a few days ago are now evident on her beautiful face.
“I will sit with my son and wait until you are done. Please, you’re pregnant. You can’t risk both of your lives as well.
With difficultly, I finally let go of Drake’s hand and get up from my chair. Patricia takes my seat. I hear her speaking softly to her son before I leave the room, exhausted.
“Hugh just stepped out to take care of some business. I have your prenatal vitamins and some other stuff that you need.” Mom gives me the much needed vitamins. I down one with a bottled orange juice.
When she presents me with a gourmet sandwich, I barely manage to swallow the tiny bites I make, but I do, for the baby. I don’t even care how the food tastes. Everything is automated. I just want to get it over with so that I can go back to Drake.
“How are you feeling?” my mother asks. I’m sure she is referring to the scary shock of my life earlier when Drake died for a few minutes.
I stare at the bottled juice that sits on the table before me. How am I feeling? I feel like I’ve been dragged to Hell and back. There are no words to describe how I am feeling. The man I love died for a few minutes. Where do I even begin with all of that?
After a few minutes of just staring into space while flashbacks run through my head, I finally look at my mom and see that she has tears in her eyes. “Thank you for being here. I love you.”
Mom comes over and gives me a tight hug, sniffing. “Be strong. Drake will recover. He’s young and he’s a stubborn man at that.”
I cry in her arms. My mother’s smell and comfort give me strength and new found bravery. If there is another person who understands what I’m going through, it’s my mom. Before my father died, she held it together even though the pain was written all over her face. I cry until I had no more tears left. When I come up for air, she urges me to wash my face before returning to sit next to Drake. “You’ll feel better when you freshen up, trust me.”
And it does help. Not a whole lot, but it helps me feel a little lighter inside.
It’s around three in the afternoon when the doctor comes into the room. He introduces himself as Dr. Readings. He’s a man in his late fifties with salt and pepper hair, kind eyes and a warm sympathetic smile.
He faces Patricia and Hugh before he speaks. “We found several blood clots in Drake. They’re travelling upwards and we want to operate quickly before it turns into a pulmonary embolism. If it reaches his lungs before we get to it, his chances of survival are slim.”
Is he serious? Hasn’t Drake gone through enough? Another surgery? What if that will cause an infection or another complication, what then?
Patricia body starts to shake and she sags in the chair. Watching how his wife looks like she has lost a battle, Hugh takes charge. “When can you schedule the operation? I want it done as soon as possible. I think we can all agree that my only son has gone through Hell for the last two days. Do what you have to do. I expect to have the best of the best on the operating team for my son. Do you have recommendations for doctors to be flown in?”
“I can actually recommend another doctor to operate with me. I am highly qualified, but I want another qualified doctor in there with me. I will give him a call right away and hopefully we can schedule it later this evening. I will get back to you shortly.” The doctor excuses himself before Patricia and Mom start crying again.
Another operation.
How the hell am I going to survive another one?
F*ck! When it rains, it really pours, hard, with no concession.
After an hour, the doctor confirms that the specialist is on board and should be here around six that night. The emergency operation is scheduled for seven.
I feel like a crying zombie.
My eyes just keep weeping and there’s no stopping it. The well of tears doesn’t stop while I sit next to Drake’s sleeping body.
My head falls flat on the bed, exhausted. I’m pleasantly woken up with soft, gentle strokes on my cheek. My face feels crusty after crying.
“Hey… you’re crying again,” I hear Drake whisper sadly.
Still sleepy, I manage to lift my head and meet his silver eyes. “I can’t help it.”
Drake tries to give me a reassuring smile, but fails miserably. “They’re going to wheel me out in twenty minutes to prep me for the operation.”
I still. Damn, I slept for hours! F*ck!
Drake’s throat bobs a few times before his hoarse voice gives me infinite dread. I start to shiver. “Just in case I don’t survive—” he starts, but I cover his dry lips with my fingers, hushing him.
“No. Don’t think like that. You will survive this. You’re a fighter. Don’t give up on me… or the baby. Please,” I beg. I watch as his face contorts with pain.
“I will try, Lil. You know I will, but this is beyond my control.” He reaches for my hand and lightly tugs me closer to place my head on his chest. When he speaks again, he’s choked up with tears, too. “I don’t want to die. I want to see you swell with my baby. I want to see my child being born into this world. I want to share that joy with you. I wish that more than anything. You must believe me.” His voice shakes and it takes him another minute to speak again while I listen to his erratic heartbeat.
“If things turn for the worst, I’m hoping you will name our child with my last name? I want him or her to have something of me.”
My body racks with sobs. The thought of Drake thinking about this breaks my heart. It simply, f*cking, breaks me into pieces.
“When the time comes, I want you to move on. I want my child to have a good loving home and a good father figure for him or her. Will you… promise me that, Lil?”
How can I promise him something so repulsive? I don’t want anyone else. I want him.
Drake.
No one else.
I lift my face off his chest and look at the man whose fighting spirit is non-existent. “No. I won’t promise you that. I will never f*cking promise you that, Drake Tatum. There will be no other man, except you, do you hear me? So, get your ass in gear because you will survive this. You can and you will do this because if you don’t, I will f*cking die without you. Do you hear me? Yeah, I will die from heartache. So, please, don’t do that to me.” My chest aches and contracts when I speak those words to him. I mean each and every one of them.
That definitely shut his ‘move on after I die’ speech. He even manages to laugh, though it sounds like it is a lot of struggle to do so. At least he’s smiling again. “Damn, you are right woman. I forgot how stubborn you are.” His eyes trace my face, studying me with great intensity. “I’ve always loved you. I think I fell in love with you after we did that fake marriage in the gazebo. I’m sorry I fought against it. I was stupid and young.”
“I knew you set me up for a good reason.” I laugh. Our laughter is short lived when the nurses come and inform us that it’s time for Drake to go to the OR.
We hold hands as they slowly wheel him out of the room. Once we get to the OR, the nurse informs us that this is the furthest that I can go. My heart dreads and aches as I watch Drake say his goodbyes to his parents. My mom hugs him fiercely before leaving me to talk to Drake.
I give him a chaste kiss on the lips. “I will see you very soon. Think of me and our future together while you’re dreaming, okay? I love you, Drake.”
That seems to put him in good spirits. Good. We need all the help we can get to make him fight inside the operating room. “I will see you very soon. I love you, Babe.”
I give him another kiss before the nurse takes him away from me. I stare at the door and pray to God that he will bring Drake back to me.
There’s nothing I can do, but hope for the best.