Sexy Hart (Sexy Series) (41 page)

Her rock. My rock is unconscious. Still.

CHAPTER 19

WEDNESDAY 21ST AUGUST

It’s restless. Sleeping in a chair is never ideal, but sleeping in a chair for five nights when you really don’t want to sleep, just in case you miss something, is hideously restless and uncomfortable.

These past few days have been… just exhausting. Worrying, crying, smiling, remembering, missing… it’s just so destroying. They’ve weaned Oliver off the coma-inducing drugs now, and we’re just waiting for him to respond to something. Anything.

On Monday, we noticed him frowning a
little which excited us massively, though nothing developed after that. His fingers moved a little yesterday, but again, we were told to expect that and it didn’t happen again, but since then, we’ve been watching like hawks, waiting for anything else.

The swelling around his eyes has gone down a little, though they are still terribly bruised, but he’s pretty much the same as he was the day he came in here, but with every day, I’m finding it harder and harder to leave him - even just to go to the loo, in case he moves and I miss it. Knowing that he could wake up gradually now, I can’t bear to be away from him.

Alexia has been going to the London office all day, helping to cover for Daniel as he stays with us, doing anything he can to make things easier. He’s comforting Bea so wonderfully, and I’m sure her parents are just as grateful to him for his support. I don’t think they could wish for a more considerate, loving son-in-law as the one they are about to get.

Tilly and Luke have been coming and going with the baby as frequently as possible. I still find a huge comfort in sitting next to Oliver with the baby in my arms; a couple of nights back, they stayed well into the night and I was able to sit there next to him, the sleeping baby cradled in my arms for hours, calming me, helping me smile and remember joy again.

Last night, they went home to have a good night’s rest. It must be about five in the morning now, Emily and Edward are sleeping in their chairs and Bea is out in the hall with Daniel. She told me a few hours ago that she needed to cuddle up and fall asleep with her man for a little while, as they haven’t even been sleeping in a bed together for the last few nights. He offers her comfort like Oliver offers it to me, so I can fully appreciate her need to be together with him for a while.

I lift my head from Oliver’s open palm, the position I have resumed every time I rest at his bedside, and I stand to stretch as I look at his face. Yes, his eyes are still mercilessly bruised, but his handsome features just shine right through that. He’s perfect.

I smile and bend to have a closer look, loving him so dearly. “Good morning, handsome,” I whisper, very quietly so as not to wake his parents. They are so in need of a good night’s sleep in the comfort and warmth of their own home and bed. They shouldn’t have to be sleeping sporadically on these hideous, faux leather powder blue chairs. “It’s super early, I think, everyone else is still asleep. How are you feeling this morning? You look so handsome.”

I stare at him, swearing I can notice something different about him, but there really is nothing, it’s all exactly the same as it has been since he got here on Friday. It seems like a lifetime. I wish I could pull the oxygen mask off his face, but the nurses are the only ones to have moved that thing. It must be so stuffy under there.

I take the moment as an opportunity to speak privately with Oliver. We’d never have gone this long without discussing something sexual, and if he can hear, he’ll definitely be wanting some. I wonder if people in a coma can get erections? Oh well, we’ll soon see. Oh… but he has a catheter - would that hurt? I suppose I’d rather have some sign that he’s here and listening, and I’m pretty sure it won’t happen anyway.

“Hey, sexy - while everyone is asleep, I want to tell you how much I miss your nakedness. I can’t wait to get you back and take you home. Then we can
lay together in bed, and you can make long, hard, sexy love to me all night. In fact, I’m going to take a whole month off work, just so I can take care of you, and spend as much time as is physically possible, in bed with my husband.”

I imagine he’s smiling. He’s not, but I can imagine it, I know he’d love this, he’d love to be having a secret, naughty, loving conversation in private… no wait… my heart beats rapidly, thumping in my chest… he is smiling! Under that oxygen mask - he’s smiling! He’s smiling!
Holy fuck
… And as if he’s trying to tell me it’s not all in my imagination, what happens next absolutely astounds me and I cry out in excitement, squeezing his hand.

He chuckled.

He chuckled! In that gorgeous, sleepy, sexy way he always has. My gorgeous, beautiful, handsome husband just chuckled at me! “Oh my god!” I cry, loudly, tears running down my cheeks, “Oliver! Oliver! Do that again, oh my god, darling, please do it again!” I hold his hand as Emily and Edward jump out of their chairs, startled by my shriek. They rush immediately to my side.

“He smiled and he laughed! Oh my god, he laughed!”

“What?” Emily cries, throwing her hands over her mouth, “Oh, darling, my baby boy! You’re coming back! I knew you would, you listen to your old mum. Oh, Oliver!”

Edward stands silently, tears filling his eyes, one hand covering his lips, and he suddenly charges over to the door and shrieks for Bea and the doctor or nurses.

They all come immediately, and quite expectedly, we don’t see anything else, they just make notes and tell us it’s all the typical type of thing for a coma, but that it’s all positive, especially at this time - having been weaned off the drugs.

So of course, we call Tilly and Luke and proceed to sit by his side, watching him intently for any signs that he might be coming back, all of us slightly giddy and excited. They say nothing else may happen, but I refuse to believe it. It will, he will move, he will come around, he really will, and this is the start of it! This is the most significant movement he’s made so far.

After a while of everyone crowding around the bed, with Oliver making no more developments, Daniel and Luke decide to go and get us all drinks and something to eat. Bea and Tilly chat, quietly to each other and I sit at his bedside, with his mum. We talk comfortably for a while, enjoying wonderful memories that we have both shared with Oliver.

As I face her, discussing his incredible ability to cook a delicious Gumbo, I notice her concentrating on Oliver, and suddenly, her eyebrows raise, and she nods her head at him, gesturing for me to look, urgently.

I turn quickly to look at his face, and he’s frowning again, and I stand out of my chair suddenly, watching. Emily grabs my arm and points to his left hand that neither of us is holding, bizarrely, and he’s curled his fingers - running his thumb over his wedding band.

I throw my hand over my mouth as I watch
him, he’s still frowning and clearly concentrating on what he’s wearing on his hand.

“Oh my gosh, Oliver, yes - it’s your wedding ring, your wedding ring that means you’re married to me. Do you remember us getting married, in Vegas? The day after my birthday?”

I watch him, desperately hoping for a reaction, and my heart leaps for joy as I see a smile beneath the mask. He’s frowning, smiling
and
touching his wedding ring! This is incredible! This is a sign, he’s reacting, his face is reacting to both everything I’m saying and what he’s doing.

The doctors come in yet again, and this time they can see for themselves. He’s still doing it! His eyelids flutter a little when the nurse asks him a question, but they don’t fully open, and fairly soon, he’s drifted back into his deep sleep again.

We are told again that this is very positive, especially as he is connecting movements and clearly responding to thought and voices. I can’t even begin to explain how excited I am that my Oliver might be coming back. I’m praying to God that he will remember me, remember that we are married and in love… I couldn’t bear having to convince him and possibly having to lose him because he doesn’t feel the same way as he did before -
but
- that would be worth it, just to have him here again, alive, kicking and smiling. Having his parents be able to talk to their boy, his sister able to share her life and friends with him again, as they always have.

Again, we all sit, excitedly, chatting away so that Oliver feels completely at home; this is how it would be on a Sunday when we’re all invited over to his parents’ house, and he loves that. So I think this is an ideal situation for him, and a lot easier for us now that we have something to cling on to, and it’s not the first thing, it seems he’s really on his way back.

~~~~~~~

Over the next few hours, he continues to make progress, slight movements here and there, small facial expressions; he laughed again which absolutely swelled my damaged heart, healing it a little more. I have never been in a situation even close to this one, and it’s been so incredibly difficult that the joy and hope I’m experiencing right now is indescribable. I wish I could find words for
it, I want to try to make everyone understand and feel this incredible emotion. It may be premature, but I’m not celebrating his return, I’m celebrating his progress, he’s working so hard and I know he can do it, I know my Oliver. He’ll be back.

CHAPTER 20

THURSDAY 22ND AUGUST

“Darling,” Oliver’s deep, sleepy voice stirs me. “Darling,” he says again, his fingers moving against my face.

“Hmm?” I respond, still asleep.

“Talk to me…”

“Okay,” I whisper, sleepily, enjoying his fingers on my skin.

A couple of moments pass before I stir again, opening my eyes and I sit bolt upright to look at Oliver, not quite knowing if that was a dream or if Oliver was just talking to me. His eyes are closed, so I could easily have been dreaming, and Emily and Edward are still asleep so I must have been… mustn’t I?

I sit back down again and put my cheek back in his hand, all the while staring at his face to see if anything changes.

“That’s better,” he mumbles, making me gasp and sit up again.

“Oliver?” I whisper, hoping with all of my being that he’ll respond, and I’m overjoyed when he does.

“Morning, gorgeous girl,” he says, huskily, the oxygen mask still covering his face, muffling his voice, and his eyes blinking open, slowly.

“Oh, Oliver, I love you, I love you, I love you. Are you hurting? Are you okay?”

“Hmm?” he asks, his eyes closed again. “I’m okay… what’s happening?” His voice is slow and croaky, and he swallows hard, wincing as he does.

“Emily, Edward!” I call, waking them before continuing to talk to him. “You’re in the hospital, darling. You fell at work and now you’re here. Your mum and dad are here, and Bea is outside with Daniel.”

Emily rushes to his side to see what’s going on. “Darling? I’m here, I’m here, Oliver,” she says, desperately.

He smiles slightly under that mask, his eyes still closed. “Hi, mum. Hi dad.”

“Oh gosh, hello my darling, darling boy! You’re back! Oh I love you so much!” she cries, tears pouring down her face.

“Oliver, I can’t tell you how good it is to hear your voice, son. Are you in any discomfort?” Edward asks, tears in his own eyes.

Oliver frowns and exhales deeply, moving his neck slightly, as if to get comfortable. He moves his hand until he finds mine and squeezes it tightly before drifting back into sleep.

~~~~~~~

The next few hours are tearful and monumental. We cry together, a huge sense of relief that he can talk, he can understand and respond to us, he knows us. He stays asleep for a long time, stirring every now and again and smiling or groaning, the nurses now here constantly to monitor his progress.

Every time he has woken, he has said something… usually directed at me and then fallen quickly back into sleep. This is to be expected apparently, and as much as I want him to wake up - I’m just over the moon that we’re getting this kind of response from him. He can answer questions. He can tell us if something isn’t comfortable.

Apparently, we’re likely to see more and more of this type of interaction from him, and he should gradually be alert for longer and longer, each time he wakes, and thus far, this is what’s happening. It’s the most profound relief I think anyone could ever experience. From feeling one moment that he’s going to die or even be dead, to the next thinking he may never come out of this coma - to now, nearly a week later, his incredible progress and determination to get back here and stop our hearts breaking.

He is so strong. I love him more than life itself, and when he’s home, I’m going to
apologise every minute of the day for not allowing him into my life as a lover, sooner.

CHAPTER 21

FRIDAY 18TH OCTOBER

“Darling, can you help me with these cuff buttons, please?” Oliver asks, and I leave the bathroom with my mascara wand, mid-application, to help him. I hold the wand in my teeth as I fasten the buttons at his shirt cuffs.

“You look gorgeous,” I say, taking my mascara from my mouth, resting one hand against a peck and standing on tip-toes to kiss him.

“So do you beautiful lady, how long until you’re ready?”