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There it was: the daunting truth. I noticed a Bible next to me as I stared at it.
“Why won’t you speak to me, God? Why do you hide? What do you want from me? What are you trying to tell me?”
I felt foolish for asking these questions. Reaching for the Bible, I placed it on my lap and opened it at random. The first bit of scripture I read was a passage fromLeviticus-18:6.
“None of you shall approach to any that is near of kin to him, to uncover their nakedness.”
Is this a coincidence or a sign?I snickered under my breath, putting the book away.
“Thanks for the message. But I already knew that.” Staring at the cross, I forced myself to consider the possibility that Christ had actually sacrificed himself on that thing for me—for humanity. Perhaps the crucifixion symbolized crucifying yourtoxic ego to resurrect your higher self: the true and authentic self. By forgiving your enemies, despite persecution, you achieve Christ consciousness—just a theory.
“Do you think I like to feel this way about her?” I ranted. “I don’t! I hate it! But my feelings are real, and I don’t know what to do!” Thrusting my hands in my hair, I tried to compose myself. “More than anything, I want her to carry out her life the way she is meant to. I want to see Aria graduate and establish herself… get married, become a mother… I don’t want to bury my daughter. So please, please bring her back to me.
“I’m not here to strike a deal with the Devil. I’m here to make a divine contract with you out of blind faith and submit myself to eternal servitude. Please let Aria wake up, and I promise to love her the way a father should. I will repent and never touch her in a wrongful way. I’ll do whatever it takes to live righteously by You. Just bring her back. Bring her back to me.”
Closing my hands in prayer against my forehead, I parked my ego and broke down in quiet sobs. Perhaps this was my karma. Eight months… I had let this unlawful relationship carry on for eight months, and now I was reaping what I had sown. It had started out subtle. We had developed an emotional dependency and shared almost everything with one another, even personal things, as if we were best friends, not father and daughter. And it had only escalated from there: kissing her on that Ferris wheel, the secret make-out sessions… I hadn’t been a good husband to Vanessa, nor had I been a good father to Aria. I had failed both women I loved in my life. This was truly an all-time low.
The chapel doors suddenly swung open and caught my attention as I whipped my head around.
“I never expected to find you in a place like this,” Natalie said, approaching me.
“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” I replied.
“I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure you were all right.” She moved down the pew and sat beside me.
After the accident, I contacted her as soon as I’d had the opportunity. She had a right to know about Aria’s critical state.
“Any changes?” I asked, avoiding her gray eyes.
“No. I’m worried her kidney function will worsen.”
“The doctors have her on dialysis. We can only hope for the best.”
“Please tell me she’ll wake up, Noah.” Natalie cried. “Please tell me that our baby will survive this.”
“She’s a fighter, Nat. She’s gonna wake up.” I put our differences aside and wrapped my arm around her.
“Why did you have to take her away from me?” She cried on my shoulder. “If Aria was still in New York, this never would have happened.”
Natalie sobbed, venting her anger as I stayed quiet and shouldered the blame because I truly held myself responsible for this tragedy.
“I’m so sorry.” My remorseful apologies would never be enough. “It’s all my fault”—I cried with her—“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”
I couldn’t confess my transgressions with Aria. I couldn’t tell Natalie that I was in love with our daughter. My silent pact with God was between me and Him. No one else. I planned to honor our agreement if Aria ever woke up. That was the deal.
Strike me down if I ever look at her the wrong way again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
While She Lay Sleeping
May 27, 2013
It was a sunny Monday afternoon when high school seniors Ryan Taylor and Jessica Williams walked toward the front entrance of Glenmore General Hospital. They took a short elevator ride up to the head trauma unit and put on a brave face as they strolled down the hallway, heading toward Aria’s room. The teenagers were on their lunch break and had an extra period spare, which gave them time to drop by the hospital and visit their friend.
Reaching the door, Jessica stepped inside and beamed at Natalie. “Hope we’re not intruding,” she said.
“Not at all. Please, come in,” Natalie replied, sitting by her daughter’s bed. She met Jessica’s eyes and offered a weak smile as they hugged.
