CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

My worst fear, and yet the one thing I’d spent the least amount of time worrying about over the past few months, had been realized. My body was rejecting my heart transplant. The moment my fever spiked in the hotel room, I knew in the back of my mind that something was wrong, but I didn’t let the idea fester. I pushed it aside and hoped for the best. And instead of turning to head home and getting treatment when I should have, I’d put my entire life in jeopardy and now faced an unknown fate.

There were voices talking, I could hear them through my haze, and yet they still seemed so far away.

“ I can’t believe you two went all the way to Marfa. What were you thinking? There’s not a proper medical facility for miles. What if the ambulance hadn’t gotten there in time?” my mother asked. Who was she talking to? I tried to pry my eyelids open, but they felt like lead weights. I could feel my fingers moving and I wiggled my toes so that the soft hospital sheet tickled the tips of them.

“ Oh! She’s awake! Nurse!” my mother called, and I tried to pry my eyes open again. This time a thin shaft of light appeared through my lids. I heard hurried footsteps as what I assumed to be the nurse ran into the room. The power controls of my bed cranked to life and my upper body began tilting upward. When was the last time I’d sat up?

Finally, I could blink my eyes open. It seemed like gravity had less of a hold on them now that I was sitting up.

I kept blinking, trying to adjust to the bright light of the room.

He was the first thing I saw.

Beck.

Sitting at the foot of my bed with crazy hair and bags under his eyes. He looked like he’d survived the zombie apocalypse. When our eyes met, he visibly sighed and ran a hand through his hair. I wanted him to move closer.

“ Abby, I’m so happy you’re awake, honey. How do you feel?” my mom asked, filling my vision with her brown curly hair.

“ She’s probably not feeling too well,” the nurse answered for me. I cast her an appreciative glance. She was older than my mom, with a no-nonsense ponytail and kind eyes. “I’ve put you on quite a heavy cocktail, Abby, so please try to relax. If you need anything, just press the call button for me, sweetie.”

I nodded gently and tried to clear my throat. It was dry and crackly.

“ I’ll go get you some water, hold on,” my mom called as she dashed out of the room. The second she was gone, I shifted toward Beck and expected him to jump up to kiss me, but he was keeping his distance. Why was he keeping his distance?

“ Beck,” I croaked. My voice sounded like I’d been smoking three packs a day for fifty years. But it worked; Beck hopped up and came toward me. He sat next to my body and laid his hand over mine. I couldn’t discern his expression, and for some reason that seemed more troubling than my failing heart.

“ I’m so…” he paused, looking down to our hands, “so sorry.”

His guilt was written across every single feature. His eyebrows sagged, his mouth frowned, and his hazel eyes held angry tears that he fought to contain.

“ No, no, Beck,” I started to argue, but then my mom came back with some ice chips and water. Her eyes landed on us sitting on the bed and her brows furrowed. I guess her opinion of Beck had changed since they’d last met. Did she blame him? He hadn’t done anything wrong. It was my fault that I didn’t take better care of my health.

“ I’ve got to run home and shower.” Beck peeled his hands away from mine and stood off the bed. I didn’t have time to protest. “And my dad wants to see me, so…”

I followed his body as he walked around my bed, past my mom, and through the hospital room door. My hand lay bereft on the sterile sheet.

“ You need to rest. Drink some water and try to sleep,” my mom said as she hushed me against my pillows.

Sleep. Sleep sounded heavenly. Sleep meant I didn’t have to worry about life or the fact that my hero had just walked out of mine.

I slept off and on over the next two days, and when I woke up, Beck wasn’t there. My mom was doing a crossword puzzle in the corner and the second my eyes opened, she hopped up off the chair and came over to sit with me.

To her credit, she asked me all of the necessary questions before laying into me about my carelessness and lack of responsibility concerning my health. I listened to her and nodded, agreeing with her completely. She was right after all. I couldn’t rely on my mother to take notes for me any longer. I wanted to know everything about my illness. There was always the possibility that my body could reject Colby’s heart, but I couldn’t skip appointments anymore. My life would just have to fit around them.

The rest of my day was a blur of various doctors running tests and discussing my treatment plans.

“ We’ve adjusted your medications and your body is no longer attacking your heart. However, we need you to stay for an extended period so that we can take routine biopsies,” my cardiologist explained when I asked how much longer I needed to be hospitalized. It was a vague answer and I had no way to gauge my plans for the future.

I kept expecting Beck to visit that day, but the later it became, the more I realized he probably wasn’t going to show. My phone sat on the bedside table, blank and foreboding.

“ Mom, do you think you could bring me a journal when you come back tomorrow?” I asked as she packed her stuff to head home to be with my father. I didn’t mind having to stay in the hospital by myself at night; it felt good to have a little privacy.

“ Sure thing. I’ll bring it with me in the morning.”

She kissed my forehead and stroked my hair back away from my face.

“ I’m really sorry about everything,” I told her, trying to erase some of the anger she was harboring toward Beck and I.

…

The next morning, my mother brought me a journal and I spent the first half of the morning writing down every detail of my trip with Beck. There were so many details that I didn’t want to forget about. I wanted to record each event so they would always be vivid memories I could flip back to and read again and again.

When I paused around lunch time to shake out my hand, my mom looked up from her crossword. “How about we try to head down to the cafeteria for lunch? I think it would be good for you to stretch your legs and we can take it slow.”

A part of me wanted to say no in case Beck stopped by and found my room empty, but she was right. I needed to get out of this hospital room and move my achy bones. We took the wheelchair just in case, but I didn’t end up needing it until the return trip. I’d almost made it back when a wave of fatigue hit me all at once.

“ Sit down, sit down. There’s no rush,” My mom insisted. I sank into the chair gently and she patted my shoulder as she rolled me down the hallway. When we approached my room, I saw Beck standing outside of my door. He looked painfully handsome leaning against the wall with his baseball cap on. His lips were a rosy red and a tan still lingered on his skin, making his greenish hazel eyes look even more mesmerizing. But there was something off about him, less life behind his expression. The Beck that I’d seen on the road trip was long gone. He’d been replaced by the shadow of that person and I couldn’t figure out why.

Was it guilt that ate away at him?

“ Hi,” I smiled meekly as my mom rolled me closer. All of sudden I felt self-conscious about sitting in the chair. I crossed my hands over my lap and adjusted my hospital gown so that it covered more of my legs.

“ Hey, Abby Mae,” he answered with a ghost of his usual tone. My mom stopped pushing me forward when we reached my door, but before she could sneak around, Beck started to help me stand up.

His touch sent tingles down my arm and I looked down to study his hands on me. It was my favorite sight in the world and I knew I’d taken it for granted before.

My mom cleared her throat behind us, “I’m going to run down to get some coffee. I’ll be back in a little while.” We nodded and then Beck led me into the room and helped me back onto my bed. Once I was tucked under the covers and there were no other distractions to bother with, I finally looked up to meet his eyes.

There were so many emotions sparking through the air between us and I didn’t even realize I was crying until a tear dropped down my cheek.

“ Abby-”

“ No,” I cut him off, needing to get his guilt off my chest. “This isn’t your fault. I don’t know what you’re thinking right now, but my heart was rejected because of the medication dosage they had me on. You didn’t cause it. Our trip didn’t cause it. Yes, I should have been more careful, and I will be in the future, but there was nothing you could have done.” I thought my speech would clear the air between us, but his gaze was focused on my hands. In that moment, I realized his distance ran deeper than what I’d predicted.

“ Abby, I know that, but it was still so dumb to go way out to Marfa. When I was waiting for that ambulance to arrive and you were unconscious in my arms, I thought you were dying. I thought I was watching you take your last breaths, and I can’t describe that feeling to you. It ripped my heart in two.” He pushed off the bed and started pacing back and forth in my hospital room. “Your parents trusted me to take care of you and instead I drove you out into the middle of fucking nowhere. For what? Lights? Was that worth your life? Fuck no!” He ripped the baseball cap off his head and slapped it against his thigh, making me jump from the sound.

“ Beck!” I protested, wishing desperately that my body was strong enough to stand up and fight for him to see logic.

“ MIT approved my transfer into their journalism program,” he muttered, and I felt the contents of my lunch rising in my stomach.

What?

I don’t know how long I sat there before answering, “Wow. That’s amazing, Beck.”

He finally stopped pacing and turned toward me. “I’m not going to do it, though. I can’t be in Boston when you’re in Dallas.”

What? He’d give all that up for me? His future? What future would he have without a degree? Surely his father would be even more livid than he already was.

“ Beck. You can’t do that,” I answered, ignoring my own protests even though I wanted to scream for him to stay. The heart monitor started to spike, but I hardly registered the noise. Every fiber of my being was focused on the fact that I was losing Beck whether I wanted to or not. I wasn’t going to be the source of his regret in life. I heard the nurse enter my room, but I couldn’t peel my gaze from Beck.

“ Is everything okay in here? You need to be resting, Abby.” The nurse glared from Beck back to me. Her recommendation was clear: no lover’s quarrels when you have a failing heart.

We nodded and when she turned to leave, Beck came to my side. “I won’t leave you. Let’s not talk about it anymore today. I don’t have to make the decision for another week or so. Let’s just hangout. I just want to be with you.” His arms enveloped me in a hug. He was careful not to pull any of my IV’s or bump my nasal cannula. I tugged his shirt and scooted over onto the bed so that we could both fit. The tiny hospital bed dipped with his weight and I naturally rolled toward him like he was my center of gravity.

I’m not sure if my mom ever came back to check on us, but we turned on the TV and I fell asleep as we watched an old rerun of Friends . My arm was wrapped tightly around Beck’s waist and I was trying my hardest to breathe in the scent of him rather than the sterile smell of the hospital.

Date: 2015-02-16; view: 472