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—Christian—
I was leaning with my head against the seat in her hospital room, my legs spread out in front of me, and my arms crossed over my chest.
“Honey, you should go home and get some rest. You’ve been here for two days,” Mom said.
I replied with my eyes closed, “I’m not leaving.”
“Christian, you heard the doc—”
“Mom,” I argued, narrowing my eyes at her.
She sighed and nodded. “I’ll go get you some coffee. Do you want anything else?”
I shook my head.
Leaning over, she kissed the top of my head. “She’s going to be okay.”
“I know.”
My body was exhausted, but my mind wouldn’t stop thinking. I couldn’t sleep even if I wanted to. I would remember the phone call from the hospital for the rest of my life. Years ago, I became Kinley’s emergency contact. She didn’t have anyone else but me.
“Mr. Troy, Kinley and her mom have been in an accident…”
This was like a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from.
When I saw her, covered in bruises, eyes closed, an IV in her arm, machines blaring loudly in her room, I wanted to break down.
I wanted to switch places with her.
I wanted to make her wake up.
I felt so fucking guilty over what I’d said to her before she drove off with her drunken mother. I couldn’t help but think it had something to do with the accident. I was the cause of this.
Of us.
All I had time to do was think, with a blinding headache from lack of sleep. I closed my eyes, and the next thing I knew I was slowly opening them with Kinley staring at me.
I jumped out of my chair and was over to her in two strides, grabbing her hand and kissing all over it while I hit the emergency button to let the staff know she was awake.
“I love you so much.” I kissed all over her face, her mouth. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so fucking sorry.”
Our eyes locked, both of us trying to focus and take each other in.
The RN and doctor on call made their way into the room. I stood back, allowing them more space, even though I wanted nothing more than to still be sitting by her side, holding her hand.
The doctor proceeded to check all her vitals, asking her questions at the same time. She was alert, answering each one without trouble or confusion, only easing my anxiety a little. I still felt so fucking guilty.
“My mom? Is she okay?”
He nodded. “She’s fine. She’s detoxing in ICU. You can see her once I get your test results back.” He continued with questions until finally, they left us alone, saying he would be back with the results from her exams from earlier that day.
Once I was sitting on the edge of her bed, she expressed, “Christian, I’m so sorry. I should have listened to you.”
“Shhh…” I kissed her. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I should have never said that to you. I should have gone with you. You wouldn’t be here if I had.”
“No.” She shook her head. “That’s not why I’m here.” I could tell she was weighing her words, and my heart was in my throat.
“I don’t know what happened. She just woke up in a rage and grabbed the wheel.”
