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“I love you, buddy. I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you. I know Mommy tried though with everything she had. I know she would have done anything in the world to save you.
We
would have done anything. I’m so sorry that you’ll never get to meet her. She’s amazing, you know. You got really lucky in the mommy department. You couldn’t have asked for a better one. She’s smart and beautiful and a pain in my ass, but I love her, and you would’ve too. I’m sorry that because I was an idiot, you had to pay the price,” I can’t help but weep as I lay the beautiful boy on his mommy’s chest, careful not to snag the blanket on any tubes or wires.

Looking at the two of them together makes me cry harder. My beautiful little family. Well, it would have been my beautiful family if I hadn’t been such an asshole. I sit there beside them, cataloguing every detail of the moment, so I can tell Ashley all about it and all about him when she wakes up—from his thin white eyelashes to the curve of his lips that’s the same as his mother’s. My moment is cut short by a knock at the door, and the same nurse that brought him to me has returned to take him back, to take him from us forever.

“Please,” I plead with her.

“I’m so sorry, but I have to,” she whispers, tears in her eyes.

“Can’t I just have a few more minutes?” I ask, suddenly unable to contain my sobs again.

She slowly makes her way closer to me. “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how hard this is for you, but it’s only going to be harder the longer you have him.”

“I never really got to have him, did I?” I ask as I hand my son over to the woman, knowing full well it will be the last time I ever set eyes on him.

“No, I guess not,” she answers with a little sniffle, and I know that she at least understands some of my pain.

I lay my head on the bed next Ashley and hold her hand. I hear the door click closed behind me, telling me that my son is now gone forever. How do I come back from this? How on Earth do I go forward without him? Without Ashley? What if she never wakes up? She already hated me before today. I can only imagine how she’ll feel if she wakes up.

Chapter 14

Tanner

“Why hasn’t she woken up yet?” I ask the doctor when he comes around to check on Ashley the following afternoon. “She hasn’t even moved or twitched.”

“These things take time, Mr. Garrison,” he says, trying to placate me. “Everything looks good. Ashley’s vitals have been stable all night and all morning. Her arm doesn’t show any signs of infection, and the sutures from the splenectomy look like they’ve begun healing well. She just needs time right now. It’s only been a little over twenty-four hours since her surgeries.”

“The longer it takes her to wake up, the worse it is, right? The brain damage?” I ask, knowing full well that I don’t really want the answer.

“The brain is a miraculous thing, but nothing’s a guarantee when it comes to it either. Ashley could wake up completely fine in ten days, or she could wake with severe brain damage in five minutes. But yes, typically, the longer it takes Ashley to regain consciousness, the more damage there might be.” He squeezes my shoulder before leaving the room.

I squeeze Ashley’s uninjured hand and beg her, “Please, baby. Please wake up. I need you to open those beautiful eyes. It’s been too long since we’ve seen them. You need to fight. Fight like hell from wherever you are, and come back to us.”

I lay my head down next to our joined hands and send out a silent prayer.
Please, you’ve already taken my son. Don’t take the love of my life too!

I must have fallen asleep after that because the next thing I know, I’m being woken up by a knock on the door. When I look up, I see a gentlemen introducing himself to Quinn, and I wonder when she and Alex got back from going home to shower and change.

Alex had tried to talk me into going with them, but I’d refused to leave Ashley’s side. I need to be here for her when she wakes up. She’s going to be devastated when she learns the news of the baby, and I don’t want her to be alone for that.

“Ms. Taylor, I’m Detective Wallis. I just wanted to come down and give you an update, regarding Ms. Mitchell’s case.” He shakes her hand.

After everything that’s happened over the last thirty-six hours, hearing the detective refer to Ashley as Ms. Mitchell only makes me angrier at myself. She shouldn’t be Ms. Mitchell anymore. I should have done right by her, by my son, and married her the minute she told me she was carrying my child. She should have a giant sparkling ring on her hand, not a cast that’s helping hold her bones together. If I had done that, she wouldn’t even be in that bed.

“The driver of the other vehicle will be released from the hospital into our custody today. He only sustained minor injuries from the crash,” the detective informs Quinn.

“Of course he did,” she scoffs.

“He’ll be booked on charges of aggravated assault with a motor vehicle and vehicular manslaughter. We’ll hold him until arraignment.”

The charges don’t sound severe enough for the catastrophic damage he’s caused. He still gets to breathe—hopefully in a cell for the rest of his life—while Ashley fights for her life, while my son will never get a chance at life or even the chance to breathe. The world really is a cruel place.

“We received the preliminary investigative report of the scene of the accident about an hour ago. I’m not sure how much information you were given originally, but you probably know that the accident was a side collision, and the point of impact was on the driver’s side, near the front fender and door. Older vehicles like the one that Ms. Mitchell was driving don’t withstand this particular type of impact the way newer ones do, and the frames crumple more easily. Add to that the lack of side airbags, and you can see why Ms. Mitchell sustained so many serious injuries. We’ll make sure that the prosecutor knows the extent of the injuries, so please rest assured that we’ll get Ms. Mitchell the justice she deserves. The city has zero tolerance for driving while intoxicated, and the other driver was at almost double the legal limit.”

The conviction in his voice is great, but at the end of the day, none of it matters. What’s done is done, and nothing will change what we’ve lost.

“Here’s my card,” Detective Wallis says, handing Quinn his business card. “If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to call me. Again, I’m truly sorry for all that you’ve been through.”

None of us says a word as Detective Wallis leaves the room. There’s really nothing to say. The three of us sit in the unbearable silence, listening to the beeping of all the machines hooked up to Ashley and the whooshing of the ventilator as it pumps oxygen into Ashley’s lungs. Then Alex’s phones rings, grabbing our attention.

Alex picks up. “Hello?” His face grows stern.

“Not now,” he says to the person on the other end of the line. “Don’t you think there are more important things that need his attention right now?” He grits his teeth. “I understand, but it’ll have to wait.” His voice rises in frustration. “Yes, okay. I’ll keep you updated.” He sighs, disconnecting the call.

Certain the call was about me, I look at him expectantly.

“That was Davis. They want to know when you’ll be back to do all the press conferences and the parade. Word’s gotten out about the accident, but nothing’s been released about the baby. He’s been calling me since last night, but I didn’t want you to have to deal with it yet,” he explains with sympathy in his eyes. He clearly doesn’t want to add anything to my already-full plate.

The audacity of these people. “Do they honestly think I give two shits about parades and interviews right now? If word about the accident has gotten out, then they should know why I’m too preoccupied to give a damn about anything else.”

“I know, Tag. But in their eyes, the team just won the Super Bowl, and their main man has dropped off the grid.”

“I don’t give a fuck what their thought process is. I’m not going anywhere until I know that Ashley’s going to pull through this. I give these people everything they want, no questions asked. The least they can do is stand behind me right now.” I glare at him. “I need you to make them understand how serious I am.”

“Okay. I’ll relay that to Davis,” he says as a nurse enters the room to check Ash’s vitals again. “You might want to consider taking a shower though.”

“What part of ‘I’m not leaving until she opens her eyes’ don’t you understand?” I ask, annoyed.

“There’s a shower in the bathroom you can use, honey,” the nurse says while checking Ashley’s IV bag of antibiotics—well, I think they’re antibiotics. There are so many different things being injected into her at this point that it’s hard to keep everything straight.

I like this nurse. She’s older, maybe in her early fifties, with graying hair. She’s motherly, unlike the younger two nurses who were here yesterday. They had been staring at me with stars in their eyes, despite the fact that my girlfriend is lying here, fighting for her life, and my dead son is down in the morgue.

“You can use that one. No one will say anything to you. If they do, you tell them that Darla said it was okay. I think it’s wonderful that you don’t want to leave her side. You don’t see that kind dedication much these days.” She smiles sadly.

“Thank you, Darla,” I smile back. It’s probably a good thing she doesn’t know I’m the reason Ashley is even in this bed and under her care.

I turn to face Alex and Quinn after Darla has left. “You know, if she had been driving the BMW instead, she might not have been so badly injured. I can’t believe she hates me so much that she won’t even drive a perfectly safe, brand new car… It might’ve saved her a lot of agony.”

“You don’t know that, Tanner,” Quinn says.

“You heard the detective. Older cars crumple in those types of collisions more often than not. I wish she hadn’t been so damn stubborn. I knew something bad was going to happen in that shitty-ass car of hers.” I know that I shouldn’t be angry with her about not using the BMW, but how many times had
I told her that damn car wasn’t safe?

“What’s done is done. There’s nothing we can do about any of it now. Let’s just concentrate on what’s coming next, concentrate on Ashley,” Alex says, trying to be the sensible one.

I sigh. “This is going to be a long road.”

Alex claps me on the shoulder. “You don’t need to tell me. I’m a physical therapist. I know how long and grueling that road is going to be better than most. She’s going to need everyone on her side.”

“I’m on her side. Someone just needs to convince her of that.”

Chapter 15

Ashley

What the hell is going on? Everything is fuzzy. Pain… Oh my God, my entire body hurts like a bitch. I try to open my eyes, but I can’t. What the hell is wrong with me?

“How much longer until she wakes up?” a voice that sounds like a garbled version of Tanner’s asks. What’s he doing here? Who is he talking to?

“When she’s ready, Mr. Garrison. Everything’s still the same, and that’s a good thing.”

Whose voice is that? It doesn’t sound familiar at all. Then again, nothing seems familiar right now.

Something warm rests on my forehead. Suddenly, one of my eyelids is pulled up, and a blinding light shines into my eye.

“Argh!” I moan. At least my voice works.

“Ashley?” Tanner’s voice is much closer now.

I try to shake my head to get the light out of my eye. “That hurts.” I push the words past my lips even though my throat is sore as hell. My whole damn body is in pain. What the hell happened to me?

“You’re hurting her,” Tanner snaps at the person shining the light at me.

“I have to examine her. I’m sorry, Ms. Mitchell, but I need to check you over. How are you feeling?” the stranger I’m assuming is a doctor asks.

“Everything freaking hurts.” My voice sounds as though someone is squeezing my throat as I try to talk.

“Why is she in pain? I thought at least one of those million tubes sticking out of her was for pain medication,” Tanner asks, sounding more annoyed than I feel.

“We lessened the dosage because we needed her to regain consciousness. Sometimes the pain medication keeps patients asleep. We needed to know whether she was still unconscious because of her injuries or the medication. I’ll increase the meds again after I finish my assessment,” the doctor explains. “Ashley, can you open your eyes for me?”

Sure, no problem. Take the fifty pound weights off of them.

“They’re really heavy,” I say, trying to open them anyway. Who would have ever thought it would be a struggle to open my eyes? With some effort, I’m able to open them slightly, but all the lights are blinding. “Can you shut off the lights?”

“Sure, baby,” Tanner says, presumably rushing to turn them off. Why is he calling me baby? Why is he the only one here right now?

“Can someone tell me what the hell is going on?” I ask, expending far more energy than I normally would to speak the simple sentence.

I hear a quick intake of breath from the side of the bed that Tanner’s on. “Doctor?” he questions, panic in his voice.

“What’s the last thing that you remember, Ashley?” the doctor asks.

“Umm...” The last thing I remember? I don’t really know. Everything is hazy. Something next to me starts beeping quickly, making me feel even more alarmed. “I don’t know… Why don’t I know? What’s going on?” The beeping gets faster as endless questions swirl in my mind.