Torrid Affair (16 page)

“The airport, please.”

Climbing in, I sat back on the leather seat and turned my head, staring out the window as we drove through campus. It was then I spotted Delaney running out of Austin's car. Austin was good friends with Stu, Nate’s roommate. We all hung out with the same crowd. Delaney looked as though she’d been crying. What had happened? Or better yet, what was going on? Austin sat in the driver side, his head resting on the steering wheel. I wanted to comfort my friend. I didn’t want to see her suffer. Over the past few weeks our relationship had changed but it didn't mean I didn't still love her as my sister. I didn’t wish any harm for Delaney. But I was on the way to the airport. My mother needed me.

* * *

I
gripped
my cell phone in my hand once I cleared security. I didn’t want to miss any calls about my mother. The olive green leather chair was cool on my warm skin. My knee bounced as I waited. Had my mother received help early enough? Would there be permanent brain damage? So much could have happened to her.

I’d planned to spend this summer break in Charlotte—find a small apartment off campus where Nate could spend the night and we wouldn’t have to worry about anyone seeing us. Delaney would be traveling the world with her parents and Julian would be back home. But now I’d have to stay in Chicago.

Inhaling all the air my lungs could take, I whispered, “One step at a time, B.”  

I flipped open my phone to check for any missed messages or calls. According to the time, Nate had finished his final.

Frantic, I sent him a quick message.

Me: Hey, I'm in terminal C. I'll see you soon <3

Our airplane had taxied and the gate area began to fill. A sea of people traversed the long corridor. My heart raced as I anticipated Nate’s arrival. More minutes passed and still no Nate.

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. At this time, we will begin boarding flight 2467 to Chicago.” The airline attendant made her boarding announcement over the loudspeaker. Her voice carried on about boarding groups but I ignored it. Checking my phone again, there was nothing from Nate.

I hit the call button. I needed to know where he was. It rang twice before he sent me to voicemail.

I called again.

Voicemail.

On the third time, it didn't ring. He sent me straight to voicemail.

My heart sank.

Had he gotten stuck with TSA?

The line to board was growing and still there was no sight of Nate. The line grew shorter, the sea of people disappeared.

“Ma'am,” the flight attendant said, approaching me. “This is the final call for boarding.”

“My boyfriend, he's coming,” I reassured her,
or myself.
It was the first and only time I’d ever referred to Nathaniel Wright as my boyfriend.

“I'm so sorry, but unfortunately, we need to close the door.”

I scanned her green eyes and looked down the hallway. I could wait for him or miss the plane.

My mother needed me.

I needed Nate.

I got on the plane.

T
he air conditioner
was turned on max when I boarded the 737. Most of the first class seats were occupied, and I dragged my feet until I found my place among the few left in coach. I counted myself lucky that there was room in the overhead bin and tossed in my carry-on before I took the window seat. The middle seat was vacant.

Nate would surely get on the next plane
.

Buckling my seatbelt, I closed my eyes and let the tears stream down my face. I cried for my mother, for the empty seat next to me, and for the fear of what lay ahead.

The plane touched down at O’Hare right on time. Most people dove out of their seat to be the first off the aircraft, but not me. I was operating at a sluggish pace. I powered my phone back on and waited for service. Following the line, I took down my carry-on and disembarked.
Small baby steps
.

There was no news from Nate
or
Dr. Christensen.
No news was probably good news.

As I made my way down to ground transportation, my eyes locked on a familiar face. My lips pursed with hatred as his grew with a welcoming smile.

“There’s my girl!”

“What are you doing here, Brian?” I couldn’t hide my distaste for him. I hated that my mother named me after him. He’d wanted a little boy more than anything. But when the doctor handed me to my mother, she still chose to honor his name. Brielle Rose Hansen.

“Is that any way to talk to your father?” His tone was sharp, and I smelled liquor on his breath.

I sighed. There was no point in arguing with him. “How’s Mom?”

“She’s still in a coma. When I got to the hospital, the doctor told me she called you and you were on your way. Figured I’d give you a ride.”

“Can I have the keys?” I put my hand out. Brian cocked an eyebrow. “You’ve been drinking. I can smell it coming out of your pores.”

He dug into his pants pocket and pulled out his car keys. “You think you’re so smart now that you have a college education.”

Ignoring him, I switched to autopilot mode and walked toward the parking deck.

* * *

T
he sight
of my mother with tubes down her throat destroyed me. I rushed to her side, held her hand, and cried.

“I’m so sorry, Mommy.” Warm tears dripped off my cheeks and onto the crisp white sheet.

My father stood in the far corner, tense as he regarded her.

The doctor cleared her throat as she walked into the room. Her white lab coat covered her hunter green scrubs. Her dark brown hair was pulled back in a low bun.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Christensen. We talked on the phone earlier.” Her voice was low when she spoke. “When Mrs. Hansen arrived in the ER, she was unresponsive. The CT scan showed that she had a hemorrhagic stroke, which is a ruptured blood vessel that caused the brain to bleed. We were able to fix the rupture, but there was a lot of swelling to the brain. Currently, we have her in an induced coma to allow the swelling go down.”

“Will she be okay?” My voice was so low I wasn’t sure if she heard me.

“Right now, we won’t be able to say much. Her heart is weak and she was without oxygen for quite some time.”

I bowed my head. This was all my fault. If I’d answered when she called. . . .

“The next forty-eight hours will be crucial. Do either of you know if she has a Do Not Resuscitate or did she request extraordinary measures?”

My head snapped up. “What?”

“She took out a few life insurance policies when she was pregnant with Brielle,” Brian said. “I don't think she’d want any additional measures.”

Anger boiled through me.

This was why he showed his damn face.

Money. It always resulted in money.

“Out.” I seethed. Brian’s eyes met mine. “Get. Out.

You selfish prick!” I shouted. “That’s why you’re here! You want to collect on my mother’s death!” I marched toward him, but Dr. Christensen stepped in front of me. “Get out, Brian! Get the fuck out!”

“Ms. Hansen, I need you to calm down,” Dr. Christensen stated in a firm voice.

“He’s fucking drunk. He’s drunk right now!”

She looked over at Brian. “Maybe you should leave.”

“She wouldn’t want to live if she was a burden for us,” he said.

“Leave, Mr. Hansen, or I’ll call security to escort you out.”

My father left and my strong stance faltered. Like a helpless child, I crumpled into Dr. Christensen’s arms and cried. Sadly, I found comfort in a complete stranger.

I sat on the recliner in my mom’s hospital room for hours. The nurses took pity on me and brought me dinner and water, but I had no appetite. Once I calmed, Dr. Christensen returned and I explained the situation between my parents. Unfortunately, she informed me, because my parents were still married, Brian was her next of kin, and unless there was a living will that stated otherwise, the decision was his.

For hours, I sat in the chair watching the machine fill my mother’s lungs with air, but my phone never rang and Nate never arrived The night shift nurse draped a blanket over me and I fell asleep. Though I was restless, my body tried to heal itself.

A sudden noise startled me awake. Scared, I looked over to my mother, but she was still sleeping quietly. The sun was peering through metal shades. A new nurse smiled at me.

“She’s fine,” she reassured me. Clearing my throat, I wiped the sleep from my face. “Your phone was buzzing.”

I ran my hand through my knotted hair and reached for it from a small table nearby. The backlit screen notified me I had one new text message.

Nate: I’m sorry, but I can’t go to Chicago. And I can’t be with you anymore.

F
orty-eight hours
.

Two thousand, eight hundred and twenty seconds.

Baby steps
, I reminded myself. First priority was my mother. Then I would find a way to repair my broken heart.

It was late in the afternoon, and my mother’s blood pressure had dropped. I held firmly on to her hand, begging her to hold on tight.

I wasn’t sure I believed in God, but when those machines began to beep and the nurses breezed in, I began to pray.  

“Please, God, save her. Please, Mom, stay with me. I’m not ready to lose you! I need your guidance, your love. You’re all I have, Mommy. Please, God, don’t do this to me!”

My prayers were answered and her blood pressure normalized. I exhaled a breath that was caught inside and dropped my head on the bed. I didn’t know how much more I could take.

A few hours after the low blood pressure incident, Dr. Christensen paid me a visit. She scanned the binder with my mother’s information and walked over to me.

“How is she doing?”

Dr. Christensen sighed. “Still no change. We will run another CT scan on her soon to check her brain activity. How are you doing?” She laid her hand on my shoulder.

I shook my head. “She’s all I have.”

“Brielle, maybe you should go home, take a shower, get some sleep. I’m on tonight, so I’ll call you if there’s any change.” She dug into her pocket and pulled out a business card. “My cell number is on there and also my pager. You can call any time.”

I ran my hands over my face. I was exhausted. My body ached and I couldn't remember the last time I showered. “I can’t leave her.”

“How about this.” She smiled at me. “I’ll have a resident take her to CT now and if her scans have improved, then you go home and at least try to sleep for a few hours.”

“Okay.”

A resident dressed in green scrubs wheeled my mother out of the room. I didn’t move from my seat. My eyes were glued to the specks of marbling in the floor tile. An hour later, the same resident wheeled my mother back. Dr. Christensen walked in behind him. She wore a small grin. I rose.

“The swelling has gone down tremendously. Tomorrow morning we'll wake her to determine if she suffered any brain damage, and then move her out of ICU and to the Neuro wing.”

I exhaled. A weight had been lifted off my chest.

“Go home, get some rest. Tomorrow is a big day and you’ll need it.”

Though it might have been inappropriate, I threw my arms around Dr. Christensen and hugged her.  “Thank you. For everything.”

* * *

S
liding
the key into my mother’s house, I felt a cold shiver. The lights were still on and the house phone was on the kitchen floor. My heart ached.

I should have answered her call.

The button on the voicemail blinked. Pressing the play button, I listened to the messages.

“Pam, it’s Olga. Is everything okay? Harry was worried when you didn’t come in to work today.”

“Great,” I huffed. Not only was my mother in the hospital, she would most likely lose her job. I hit the stop button on the machine and made my way to the shower.

The cascading water was scalding hot, and washed the past two days off my body.
Screw it
. Sleep was the first thing I’d worry about. My mother needed me. Everything else would fall into place.

Surprisingly, I slept through the entire night, and felt rested when I rose. There were a few things I needed to get in order before I made my way back to the hospital, so I washed the dirty dishes in the sink, straightened up the house, and found my mother's living will. I thanked God yet again. There was no way my father could do anything to harm her now. I was named my mother's primary caregiver. After I did everything in the house, I sat on the couch and pulled my cell phone out of my purse. My finger pressed the on button and the gray screen turned green. I had three new voicemails from Julian and four text messages from Delaney.

Delaney: Hey, are you around? I need to talk to you.

Delaney: Hey, just heard your message. Hope your mom is okay. Keep me posted.

Delaney: Hey, how’s everything? Can you please call me?

Delaney: You’re freaking me out! Call me! I have news for you!

I hit the call back button and she picked up on the second ring. “Brie!”

“Hey.”

“Oh my God, I’ve been going crazy worried over here. How’s your mom?”

I sighed. “It was a bit of touch and go at first, but they plan on waking her up from the induced coma today. I’m actually on my way to the hospital soon.”

“But she’ll be okay?”

“We won't know for a while; they have to see if there was brain injury. For now, all I know is that she’ll live.”

“Oh, thank goodness.” Delaney cleared her throat. “I have something to tell you.” Her voice changed. The concerned tone for my mother's well-being dropped and it was replaced with a bit of glee. “I hate that I have to do this over the phone, but I’m pregnant!”

I was shocked.

Stunned.

“Brie, say something?”

Was this why she ran out of Austin’s car crying?

I opened my mouth to speak when the doorbell rang. “Del, I need to call you back.”

Pushing off the couch, I strolled to the door. My heart picked up speed as I turned the knob and pulled the door open. His back was toward me as he scanned the shady neighborhood.

He came!

No . . .

It wasn’t him.

Julian turned toward the door, a full, wide smile filling his face.

“I heard about your mom.” He scratched the back of his head in a nervous gesture. “I figured you might need your stuff.” He stepped to the side. My car was parked at the curb filled with my belongings.

A soft sob escaped me and I leapt into his arms. For months he had been by my side, loving me even when I didn’t love him back. “You drove all the way here?” I cried into his neck.

Julian pulled away so he could look at my face. “I’d do anything for you, Brie.”

“Oh, Julian.” I hugged him tighter.

He came for me. When I didn’t ask. When I desperately needed a friend. Julian came for me.

He held me for a few more seconds before I released my death grip and asked him in. “It’s not much,” I said, embarrassed. His mother’s house seemed like a mansion compared to mine.

“How’s your mom?” He asked as he sat on the couch.

I explained the hellish three days I had. “They’re waking her up today, so I should get to the hospital soon. When do you have to go back?”

“I’m here for you, Brie. As long as you need me, I’ll be here.”

I entwined my hand with his. “Thank you.” I swiped at a lone tear.

“Hey, did you hear?” A grin lit his face. “You’re going to be an aunt.”

“I can’t believe Del’s pregnant.” The thought of Delaney as a mother boggled me.

“I know. Nate will be a great father. He’s always wanted kids.”

The world stopped.

“Wait. What?”

“Yeah, Nate’s the dad. Crazy, right? Apparently, they got together one drunken night a few weeks back.”

Without a word, I stood from the couch, grabbed my cell phone and walked upstairs to my bedroom. Once my door was closed, I typed out one final text message to Nate.

Me: Pregnant? You got her pregnant?

Nate: I’m sorry.

Me: It’s not fair to ask, but please, Nate. Pick me. Don’t stay with her. She will never love you like I do. Come back to me.  

Nate: I can’t.

His family had abandoned him. There was no way he would ever choose me. I’d never be good enough.

Me: Then forget me. Forget who I am. Forget everything we
ever
shared.

Nate: I’m sorry.

Me: Fuck. You.

With all my might, I tossed the phone across the room, breaking it into pieces. I’d never been good enough for the people in my life. I wasn’t good enough for my father. And I wasn’t good enough for Nate.

But Julian . . .

I was good enough for Julian.