Pretty Pink Ribbons (38 page)

Luke and I both look at each other.
Please,
I mouth, not being able to recall a time when I’ve been as desperate as I am right now. We’re both dying to see the one woman we both love more than anything in this world, but I don’t waver. There is no way in the world I’m not going in there first, and Luke must see the determination in my eyes because he drops his head in resignation.

“Go. You go first,” he says, his chin quivering. When he looks up at me with a steady stream of tears running down his cheeks, I take him by the shoulders and pull him in for a tight hug.

“Thank you,” I whisper, knowing how much it’s hurting him to not be with his sister. His arm comes around my back, and he pats it twice and nods. I pull back and look at him, trying so hard to convey just how much this means to me. “Thank you,” I whisper one last time before Tyson leads me toward the ICU . . . toward Laney.

Tyson waves his badge and the doors open. The space is quiet, the lights are dim, and several nurses are sitting in front of a row of monitors. I’m led across the room and Tyson stops in front of one of the doors. “Levi,” he says, clearing his throat. “You need to be prepared. They’ve got her hooked up to a lot of machines, but they’re all helping her.”

“Please, just let me see her,” I beg. Tyson purses his lips and sighs before pushing the door open.

“I’ll be out here if you need me,” he says, then shuts the door behind him. My eyes instantly fill with tears when I see Laney’s tiny fragile body lying in the middle of the bed with a white sheet tucked around her. My chest aches and I swallow hard as I move toward her. Both of her arms are resting at her sides and her head is propped up on a pillow. She looks so peaceful.

My Laney.

Clear tubing is wrapped around her head and positioned inside her nose. Several wires lead from one of the machines and disappear under the neck of her gown. She has an IV in her left hand, which is connected to bags of clear fluid hanging from an IV pole. I don’t bother to look at what they’re giving her because I won’t know what it is anyway, but I make a mental note to ask the nurse later. A small square apparatus is attached to her middle finger and the wire from it disappears under her covers. The room is eerily quiet minus the steady beep emanating from one of the monitors and the faint sound of oxygen as it enter Laney’s nose.

I spot a chair off to the side and I pick it up, moving it as close to her bed as I can without disturbing anything that she’s hooked up to. I sit down and take her tiny hand in mine. It’s so cold and feels so . . . lifeless. And that’s all it takes. I bury my face into the side of her hip, her hand clenched between mine, and I bawl. “Wake up, baby. Please wake up,” I sob, desperately wanting to feel her fingers curl around my hand.

Why didn’t I wake her up before I left this morning? What if I never get to feel her fingers run through my hair or hear her tinkling laughter when I touch her in just the right spot? What if I never get to propose and watch her walk down the aisle? I want to hear her say ‘I do.’ I want a life with her, a family with her . . .
I just want her.

Everything hits me all at once. The reality of the situation is like a punch to the gut when I think about all of the things that I never got to say or do—all of the things that the two of us will miss out on if she’s taken away from me. The tears continue to flow as my chest heaves and I attempt to suck in air between sobs.

She is my life. I can’t exist if she doesn’t exist.

Please God. Please don’t take her away from me.

Pushing up from the chair, I pepper kisses across her beautiful face. “I love you, Laney. Please wake up.
Please.
I need you, baby.” My lips land on hers and I kiss her softly, hating the stillness of her mouth beneath mine. “Please, baby,” I mumble, my lips brushing against hers.

I fall back into the chair, her hand still firmly in mine, and I continue to cry as I watch her chest rise and fall with each shallow breath. As I look up at her beautiful face, I see her eyelids flutter and I jump from my chair, placing a gentle hand on her cheek. “Laney, sweetheart, can you hear me?” Her lids bob heavily before finally staying cracked open. “I love you. I love you so much,” I tell her, tears flowing uncontrollably down my flushed cheeks. The side of her mouth ticks up just a fraction as though she’s trying to smile, and her fingers twitch against mine. “Don’t move, okay. Just relax.” I nuzzle my face into the side of her neck. “I’m so scared, baby.
So
scared. Please don’t leave me.” Bringing my face back to hers, I kiss her softly several times, and it doesn’t matter that she can’t kiss me back because her eyes are open and she’s looking at me. Right now, that’s all I need. “You’re the love of my life, Laney. I’m sorry I left this morning, and I’m sorry I didn’t wake you up.” A tear falls from the corner of her eye and disappears in the pillowcase, and then another and another. I wipe them away the best I can. “Please don’t cry. You’re going to be okay.” My voice breaks as emotions build up in my throat.

“Love you,” she croaks, her voice raw and gritty.

“I love you too, baby.
So much.
” She nods, and her lids drift shut before bobbing open once again. “This is forever, Laney. Promise me this is forever,” I beg, wanting to hear her say the words, needing to know she isn’t going to leave me. Her eyes squeeze shut and several more tears fall. When she opens her eyes up again, and those hazel orbs find mine, they’re full of more love than some people see in a lifetime.

“I will love you forever, Levi.” Her voice breaks and her body shakes as she begins to cough. A feeling of dread settles deep in my stomach and I press the call button. Within seconds, a nurse rushes into the room and starts checking Laney. Her coughing stops and I sigh in relief, thankful that I was able to talk to her before she drifts back to sleep.

One of the machines starts beeping loudly and I look up at the monitor, trying to figure out what’s going on. Three other nurses push into the room, shoving me to the side, all of them hovering around Laney, their hands moving too fast for me to see what they’re doing. The beeping gets louder and my heart starts slamming inside of my chest, adrenaline and fear pumping through my veins.

“What’s wrong? What’s going on? Is she okay?” I push into their huddled circle and see one of them pull Laney’s oxygen tubing out of her nose and replace it with a mask.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” The beeping sound seems to be getting even louder, and one of the lines on the monitor is flashing red. Panic sets in.

“No,” I argue, trying to get closer to Laney. “What’s going on? Please tell me what’s happening,” I beg, only to be shoved back further by one of the nurses.
Why won’t they tell me what’s wrong?
The beeping stops, replaced by a long steady tone, and everything around me ceases to exist . . . everything except Laney. My breath catches in my throat at the same time a sharp pain rips through the center of my chest. Lunging forward, I reach for her—any part of her—only to come up empty when I’m shoved to the side.

Please, God. No!

My stomach tenses, my heartbeat thrashes in my ears and my body shakes as adrenaline pumps through my veins.

NO! No no no.
This isn’t happening.

I can’t lose her.

The only thing I can think about is getting closer to Laney. I weave frantically through the room, trying to see past the wall of nurses.
I have to see her. I have to help her.
Everything around me is moving at warp speed, and my mind is struggling to keep up with the shrill sound of the alarm and the nurses yelling out orders. I’ll do anything—sacrifice anything—for her to be okay.

”No!” I yell, pushing my way forward again, desperate to see her and hold her and tell her I love her. A set of strong arms lock around my chest, and I fight but I can’t seem to break free. My whole life is lying in that bed.
She can’t leave me.
“Laney!” I yell, continuing to struggle. “Let me go. I need to see her. Let me go!” I’m begging, yelling and cursing at Tyson. “Let me go. Laney, I’m here. Laney!” My body is yanked into the hallway and when the heavy door slams in my face, my body sags to the floor as my entire world shatters around me.

One Year Later

MY FEET ARE DANGLING precariously outside the edge of the plane. The wind is rushing by so fast that I can’t hear a damn thing—but that’s okay, I don’t need to hear anything. Right now, there is only one thing I need and that’s to jump out of this airplane so I can check another thing off of Laney’s list. I’ve made it my mission to complete her bucket list, and I won’t stop until each and every last thing is accomplished.

One year ago, my life and everything I thought I knew about it changed in a matter of seconds. In that very moment, I vowed to live my life to the absolute fullest. I swore to live every single day like it’s my last, because we never truly know how much time we have left on this earth. I want to enjoy my time. I want to take chances. And someday when my time here is up, I want to die knowing that I wouldn’t change a single thing about how I lived my life.

“Are you ready?” Phillip is jumping tandem with me today, and he understands the motivation behind why I’m doing this.

“Hell yes, I’m ready,” I yell back so he can hear me over the noise.

“Do you want to have a little extra fun when you jump?” I turn my head to look back at him and he nods, giving me a thumbs-up.

“I have no idea what that means, but sure. Why the hell not?” My nerves are fried. As much as I want to do this, I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’m jumping out of a fucking plane at nearly 13,000 feet above the ground.
This is crazy.

Phillip slides us into position and I look back, giving the other passenger in the plane a thumbs-up. She smiles and waves, and before I can even smile back, I’m rolling head over ass into the sky. Everything around me is whirling by and I have absolutely no sense of direction—it’s the greatest feeling in the entire world and now I know what the ‘extra fun’ is.

Somehow by the grace of God, Phillip manages to straighten us out and all I see is blue. The wind is rushing past us, but surprisingly I don’t feel like I’m falling. My eyes bounce around, trying to take in everything that I can. There’s no good way to describe this because the sights I see and the sensations I feel are all-consuming. My mouth is agape at the fantastic view before me.

Suddenly, we’re upright and everything around me is quiet. The rushing wind has slowed to a dull hum, and I notice that the instructor has pulled our chute. My eyes focus on the varied shades of green and brown patches below that seem to be getting bigger as we continue to float toward the large white banner that‘s starting to come into focus. The bold red letters stand out perfectly, and my excitement turns into pure giddiness as I think of what’s about to happen.

“You ready for this?” Phillip hollers.

“Absolutely.” A large smile is plastered to my face and he starts in on the familiar directions to prepare me for our landing. My feet are extended in front of me and the receivers are jogging toward us as we swoop in and sail into a steady walk. “Yes!” I yell, wanting nothing more than to go back up and do it all over again. But that will have to wait because right now I have something a little bit bigger than skydiving to get ready for.

Everyone works to strip me of my harness and gear, and I run to a waiting car to change into my suit, knowing that she’s probably on her way down. My hands are shaking, and my mouth is dry, but there’s a lightness in my chest that I’m certain I’ve never felt before.

Emerging from the car, I adjust my pink tie and run to the edge of the banner. I don’t even know how big this thing is—I just called a guy and told him that I needed something she could see from up in the air. He didn’t disappoint, that’s for sure. But I hope like hell she doesn’t want to take it home.