Sexy Hart (Sexy Series) (36 page)

“No…” I wail, bending over, covering my face with my hands. “He’s my life! I love him, he’s my life… oh god…”

She rubs my back and suggests we get inside and I nod, standing slowly to follow her through the main doors.

The walk through the building is hazy. I remember very little about it, other than the beeps and sympathetic looks of old ladies in wheelchairs as I walk past them, red-eyed, wet-cheeked and dazed. We seem to have been walking for hours down corridors with mint green and burnt orange, linoleum floors, fluorescent lighting and that hideous smell of stale disinfectant.

When we’re finally led to a corridor with chairs and a waiting area, we see Daniel who immediately rushes over to us and wraps his arms around me as I collapse against him, moaning loudly.

“Oh god, Daniel…
please?”

“I know, sweetheart,” he says, soothingly, “I know. He’s out of surgery.”

“And? How is he?” I ask, demandingly, looking up at his face.

“Sit with me,” he says and I automatically shake my head and step away from him, weeping loudly.

“No! No, don’t tell me that, no…” I cry, again, walking in a circle, searching for something to make this right, not being able to bear the thought of Daniel telling me my man has… that he’s gone.

“Clare, come,” he says, stepping over to me and wrapping an arm around my shoulders. I’m not really sure what Alexia is doing right now, but I can’t think straight to even care.

“I’m not going to tell you ‘that’; he’s with us. But he is in a coma, sweetheart.”

“Oh god, no…” I whisper, staring at his face, my hands on my cheeks as I try to deal with this. “But… but he was just at mine this morning… he was texting me… we’re going out for dinner, Daniel, we’re not supposed to be here.”

“I know. Bea is in with him at the moment, she knows a lot more than I do, she’ll tell you when she can.”

“Oh shit,” I say, my stomach knotting painfully, “my god, I didn’t even… my god! How’s Bea? Oh my god!” I cry, hating myself for being so selfish and not even think about Oliver’s sister or parents…
oh god, his parents…

“Are Emily and Edward here?”

“Yes, they’re in there, too.”

“Oh, his mum… oh god.” I bend forwards in the chair and rest my head on my knees, trying to alleviate this savage sick feeling that’s escalating rapidly in my stomach. “He can’t die, please God, don’t let him die…” I cry, shuddering violently as I sob, uncontrollably in my seat. “I love you, Oliver… I love you… please… please!” I mumble. “I need to see him,” I decide, suddenly. “Daniel, I need to see him.” I stand, wiping my cheeks and pacing. “Where is he? Tell me where he is, please, Daniel, please?” I beg.

“Sweetheart, we’re not allowed in there, it’s only family.”

“
No… no…” I weep, falling to my knees, defeated, already feeling a huge loss. He’s in a room… a hospital bed… unconscious, without me. It’s not really true, is it? I can’t see him - I need to see him to confirm that this is really happening. I can’t process this…

“But he was just having a cup of tea in my room a few hours ago… Lex - you were there! You saw him! This can’t be him… this can’t be happening…” I whimper, huddling up against the wall, sobbing, loudly. “It just can’t be him…”

Daniel stands from his chair and comes over to sit on his knees on the floor, holding me in his arms as I break down further, loudly wailing, clinging onto his arm. “Please…” I beg him, “please let this be a dream…”

“I’m so sorry, Clare. I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m sorry that we didn’t have time to call you any earlier, we heard as soon as we got home from work and we came straight here. I called at the first opportunity.”

I nod, unable to say anything right now. I can’t exactly be surprised, no one fucking knows we are even together, let alone that I’m his wife! Why would anyone call me early? Fucking stupid fucking secret!

“When was the last time you heard anything, Daniel?” Alexia asks, quietly, as he holds me tightly on the floor, rocking gently.

“About an hour ago.”

“Shall I go find somebody to ask?” she asks and just that minute, Bea walks through the door, white as a sheet, and I heave in my throat, anticipating her news.

“Oh god,” I cry, clambering up from the floor and hurling myself at her, hugging her close to me as we cry together. “How is he? Please?” I ask, quietly.

“Oh god, Clare… it’s horrible… it’s all so horrible…”

“I know,” I cry “…but tell me he’s okay, please?”

“He’s still unconscious. They have said it could be anything from days to months before he begins to come around, if at all.”

“No, please don’t say that!” I cry, hysterically, holding my shaking hands up to my mouth.
She clears her throat to continue, weakly. “They have had to paralyse him further to deepen his level of unconsciousness to try to control the inter cranial pressure and have taken some fluid from around his brain to try to help that, as well as lowering his body temperature by a couple of degrees.”

I watch her face as she tells
me and it feels surreal… she can’t possibly be talking about the perfect brain inside my Oliver… She sounds like a doctor.

“But they have said he’s in the most critical period right now, if he can make it through the next couple of days, it’s a good sign, then the next couple of weeks. The swelling will be monitored constantly.”

‘Make it through the next couple of days’… make it through. Can my Oliver… my husband, make it through the next couple of days without dying? What sort of fucking thing is that to ask two months into marriage? I need him… I can’t live without him… I want to be in a coma, right there next to him. If he dies, I want to die with him.

I remember my period starting earlier today and it makes me want to rip my female reproductive system from my body and stamp on it until it’s nothing but pulp.
Bastard!
Why couldn’t it have just let me get pregnant for him? He’d have something to live for… he’d make sure he was here for our baby… I’d have my little piece of Oliver inside me to comfort me until Oliver is back with us.

“How will he recover?” I ask, emotionless.

“They don’t know anything like that… they said we’ll have to wait and see. It will be better if he wakes from the coma sooner, rather than later, once they have reduced the drugs they’re giving him to paralyse him further.”

“And did they give any… any kind of…” I don’t know how to say it.

“They said in people with similar Glasgow Coma Scores, which refers to how responsive they are, the mortality rate is around fifty percent…” she says, trailing off as she bursts into tears again and is immediately embraced by her fiancé.

“Daniel… I can’t stand it… I can’t bear to see him like that - he looks so… quiet.”

Overcome with emotion, I lean against the wall, facing away from everybody and just let go, quietly, silent sobs rippling through my body, warm tears running down my face and my eyes hot, swollen and tired. I kick my shoes off my feet and under the chairs, needing to feel comfort of any kind, and I slide down to the floor again. My dress is too tight, my legs are freezing on the cold, linoleum floor, but that’s nothing compared to the deep, agonising ache at the realisation this it
is
actually Oliver in there.

“Bea…” I say, tentatively, “
would I be able to see him, please?”

“My mum asked for you, yeah,
I’ll take you in now.” She stands, wiping her eyes and straightening herself.
Why on earth has her mum asked for me?

She stands next to me and takes my hand, offering a slight, strengthening smile before walking with me towards the double doors ahead. As we go through, I see two more sets of doors, and Bea guides us to stand in front of one set.

“There’s a lot going on in there, okay, darling?”

I nod, silently, understanding what she’s saying, and we slowly move forwards and through the doors into the clinical, disturbing box that is Oliver’s hospital room.

I immediately release Bea’s hand when I see him, and I rush straight to his side to talk to him. I weep, uncontrollably when I see his beautiful face under the mask and tubes and those horrific black eyes.

“Darling, I’m here, I’m here, please be okay… please Oliver,” I beg.

Comforting hands grasp the tops of my arms as Emily leans in to hug me from behind. “Darling, you need to be in here with us.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you…” I sob.

“It’s you, isn’t it?”

“What is?” I ask softly, desperately wanting to touch Oliver’s hand but not knowing if I’m allowed… there are people monitoring all of this machinery in here - I’m surprised we’re even allowed close.

“You’re that ring on his finger,” she says, soothingly, gripping my forearm in her hand.

“I… er…” I stutter, caught totally off guard.

“Clare, dear…” she whispers, “we know he’s married. The only person that I could think of that Oliver would marry is you… he’s been in love with you for a long time.”

I turn to look at her, confused. “What… how…”

“After he… when the paramedics were there, he was conscious slightly. He asked the lovely boy helping him to call his wife and then, he instructed him to take his wedding ring from his pocket and put it on his finger, and told him not to let anyone take it off. It’s because there really was a ring in his pocket, that we know he wasn’t confused.”

I look over at his left hand and there it is, that plain, yellow gold, Las Vegas band that binds him to me until the day we… I drop my head down and cry, my hand covering my eyes, not able to bear what’s happening right now.

“I’m so sorry,” I wail, “I’m sorry… we were going to tell you next week… we planned it… you were going to come for dinner and…” I continue to weep between words, “we were going to tell you. We’re so happy, we really are,” I say, desperately, trying to make her see that it’s not terrible. “I love him more than anyone or anything ever before, we were going to tell you and try for babies and be happy, forever… oh god… I need him!” I cry, my knees weak again.

“Sit, darling,” she says, guiding me to a chair. I sob for a moment as she sits next to me, clutching my hand. She passes me a tissue, and wiping my eyes, trying to control my emotions for a moment, I look up to see Bea staring at me. I turn to look at Emily, her lovely face, red and swollen. Edward sits in a chair on the other side of his son with his head in his hands.

“Clare… how did you get married?” Bea asks, in disbelief.

“Oh god…” I whisper, preparing myself to have to do this, because of course - they need to know. “Well… when you guys went home on my birthday - this was in Vegas, Emily - we spend the night talking and he wound up proposing to me.”

“You got married when you were drunk?” she cries.

“No. He took me home to the hotel to think about it. I wanted to do it
immediately, anyway, I’ve loved him for a very long time, Bea… Emily. I truly have and I’m so in love with him that my heart literally aches for him, every day that I’m not with him. He woke me up the next morning and we went to the county court for a licence and then got married in a chapel straight afterwards. I’m so sorry we didn’t tell you… we both thought it would be better to embark on this romance alone, without admitting what we’d done until we had given ourselves enough time to become a couple, properly. We decided just last night that we would tell you all next week because we’ve been so blissfully happy - I promise you Emily, Edward, we love each other so much… he’s my world, I can’t live without him…”

Tears thunder down my cheeks as I relay the story. I can’t figure out Bea’s face, but Emily is still clutching my hand, tightly. “Oh, I’m aware that he loves you, darling. I’d like to hear more about what happened, maybe we can talk about it with Oliver when he stirs.”

Her positivity is comforting and really rather astonishing. Her little boy lies here before her under a sheet, covered in bandages, tubes and masks with injuries I don’t even know about yet, and she’s squeezing
my
hand, supporting
me
, helping
me
feel better about our deception.

I look sheepishly over to Bea who is frowning, her head tilted with eyes full of tears. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, I’ve hurt my best friend and I hate it. She simply smiles, supportively and comes to hold my other hand, crouching down next to me. She kisses it and rests her cheek against my knee.

“You pair of devious bastards,” she whispers. “I love you.”

Of course I cry some more, sobbing as I look over at my
poorly husband. Edward, who has been silent this entire time, stands and walks over to us, bending to kiss his wife on the head, then his daughter, and then, surprisingly; me. “I’m going to leave you lovely Hart ladies to get some fresh air for a moment. Darling,” he says, addressing his wife, “I won’t be longer than a few minutes, please make sure Daniel comes to get me if anything happens.”

“Of course,” Bea responds for her mother, “but Dad, take Daniel with you. Alexia is here too, she can get you if needs be.”

He nods and leaves the room, silently.

We sit in quiet stillness for a moment, staring at Oliver lying there so helplessly, doctors and nurses taking notes and monitoring the machines surrounding him. Tears drop from my lashes and down my cheeks again, I just can’t believe it’s him… I’m staring at his comatose body but still half expecting him to walk through those double doors asking for an update on the patient.