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“Can we continue to visit?” Tommy asks cautiously.
“Absolutely. He’d like that.”
They step back together and walk toward the door, and Tommy turns to me. “For what it’s worth, we’re so sorry about everything that happened. If we could go back and make different decisions, we would.”
“Thank you for that.” I look between the both of them and weigh my words carefully. Then I focus directly at Nicole and drive my point hard. “Hopefully neither of you are ever in a similar position.”
“With that being said, feel free to visit Bryce anytime you want. He’d appreciate it.”
They walk out, and I sink back in my chair, covering my face.
“Bryce, was I a bitch? That was unnecessary, right? They were trying to be nice, and I had to be ugly.”
I watch his sleeping form and try to will him to answer me. All of a sudden, his monitor starts beeping, and his chest convulses. His hand shoots up, swatting at the air.
I press the nurse button, but it’s useless because a team of people rushes into the room, forcing me away.
Bryce’s head starts to shake violently back and forth as they try to calm him down. Both of his hands fly around, and a nurse tries to brace the arm in the sling, protecting his collarbone.
The second his eyes open, I step into his line of sight, thinking I can help. He thrashes against everyone, swinging his good arm. His eyes land on me and darken. I shudder but step around the bed, reaching for his hand.
“Bryce?”
He looks around and tries to sit up. The nurse holding him gives me a chin jerk to come closer.
“It’s me, Devon,” I say softly, my heartbeat racing. “Focus on me. You’ve been asleep for a while.”
His eyes spin around the room and land on the ceiling. He swallows hard and breathes deep a few times.
One nurse relaxes her hold and lowers his injured hand. Another starts taking his temperature and blood pressure.
His face finally finds mine, and I brace myself. His eyes are blank and unknowing… The usual gleaming blue is pale and lifeless. Finally, he speaks.
“Who are you?”
Who are you?
Who are you?
Who are you?
The words run through my mind every second of the day. Within seconds of Bryce waking up, he fell back into a coma. That was two days ago.
My parents try to comfort me, but I’m numb. Sheila and Dave stand vigil, hoping he’ll gain consciousness while I dread he’ll wake and again not recognize me.
Doctors say he’s confused and probably has no memory of his brief episode. This seems ironic to me because, while Bryce may have no recollection, I’ll never forget it for as long as I live.
“Sweetie, we’re going to take Sheila down for a coffee and some fresh air. You want to come?” Mom asks.
“No, I’m good.”
“Okay, Dave’s staying here.”
When they leave, Dave starts reading a magazine to Bryce, and I grab my bag. “I’m going to take a shower.”
“Devon, if you’d like to go back to our hotel room and get a shower, you are welcome to. Maybe lie down in a bed for a few hours.”
Even though he may not know who I am, the thought of leaving Bryce is terrifying. I shake my head and go to the small bathroom. Panic seizes me, and I fall onto the floor, trying to catch my breath. Hot tears spill down my face, and I bite my cheek with the effort not to cry out. The last thing Dave needs is to witness my breakdown.
