“Some believe that souls stay in our world when they weren’t ready to die… so you dedicate a simple prayer. Tell her that it’s fine to go. That you’re going to take care of the baby and she has nothing to worry about anymore. She needs to know that it’s okay so she can forgive herself for all the sins and let go of everything she hung on to. You free her… give her back to the earth.”
Unblinking, I frowned at the nurse, not sure what to make of the things she had just told me. Her light brown eyes expressed that she knew more than I did, and that, whatever token of advice she suggested, I should follow.
“We are all connected—to everything. Life. Death. Evolution.”
My frown grew deeper.
Her gaze directed behind me before reverting back to my face. “She’s waiting.”
Powering forward, I went into the room. The bright, fluorescent lights basked her body right in the middle of the room. My body felt light but heavy. Inexplicable emotions ran riot as I stepped closer to the woman I had married a little over four months ago.
She was covered in a white sheet, pale in pallor compared to her usual tan, but apart from that, she didn’t look dead. In fact, if one would just look at her face, they would think that she was sleeping. What took my breath away with alarm was her body. It had parts that were black and blue, some green with cuts around them. Her shoulders had deep lacerations—sharp and claw-like—as if she had been attacked on both sides.
Touching the tip of a strand of her silky, dark hair, I gently stroked it. “I haven’t seen her yet…” I spoke out. With the room in eerie silence and nothing to interrupt the stillness around me, my whispered voice sounded louder than it usually was. “I’m going to, after I say goodbye to you.”
I had to pause, imagining what she’d had to go through before the accident had taken her life. Had she died from bleeding? How long had it taken until help arrived? I had so many questions, yet there was one that troubled me the most.
“What happened after you left last night, Amelia? I don’t understand any of this. In a lot of ways, I have caused you pain, and I wish—I wish that I could’ve done it differently, maybe tried harder to get through to you instead of abandoning you all by yourself.
“Even if things between us weren’t normal, I should’ve done a better job in taking care of you. I’m horrible at it, aren’t I?” My voice cracked a tad at my admission.
“You’re free… from all the pain that consumed you for so long.” I bent over and kissed her cold lips for the last time, whispering, “You may rest now, tortured angel.”
Taking a deep breath, I gave her one last look before I somberly strode towards the exit.
Just when the door closed shut, only then I remembered something from last night…
Until we meet again, Toby Watson.
Why hadn’t I noticed that? Amelia never spoke to me that way when leaving in rage, she… No! My thoughts screeched to a halt the moment I realized where they were going. The horror sunk further into me.
At one point last night, I had almost been convinced that she was getting better….
But she’d proven me wrong.
Chapter 18
Toby
Yes, I had most certainly been proven wrong in thinking that saying my private, final goodbye to Amelia was the toughest thing I had ever done. Tough barely grasped what I tried to conjure in my head and the actuality of what and how it was going to be. I had an idea, but nothing came close, not a bloody thing.
Because the instant the glass doors in the neonatal intensive care unit of the hospital welcomed me in, the very moment where I stepped in to the stillness of the room with no sound other than the peeping noise of the machine and that tiny, domed glass sitting right in the middle of the room with lights above it that were directed at one particular thing.
The thing—my thing—was fighting for her life to survive. Her right for life.
I felt like someone had punched me in the gut, chewed my heart out and spat it back out, poured gasoline on it and took a torch to alight it on fire.
My knees wobbled as I grew nearer, never taking my eyes off the tiny kiss of life.
Someone came from the side, appearing out of nowhere as she started to progress forward with a friendly smile. “Mr. Watson, I’m Dr. Letty Barrera.”
Barely nodding, my eyes diverted back to the baby. “How is she doing?”
Her face crumpled. “She’s… hanging in there. Her weight is consistent with her growth, weighing around ten ounces.”
Ten ounces? Fuck.
“We need you to sign some papers regarding her blood work. We need to see how her liver is functioning and how her other organs are doing. Her oxygen intake—it will basically tell us what we need to know.”
“I’ll sign them right now,” I rasped out before signing the papers that she gave me.
She was writing something on her chart, speaking to me at the same time. “The nurses will be checking in every thirty minutes. I will be back again to check on her in an hour. The blood results won’t be in until tomorrow morning. If you need anything—let us know straight away; we’ll try to accommodate it the best we can.”
“All right.”
“Mr. Watson?” she called out before walking out.
“Yes?” I turned around to face her.
She hesitated a moment before opening her mouth to speak. “My work deals with facts, and every now and then, we get miracles. Your baby’s at twenty-one weeks. The survivability ratio is less than three to five percent. Some would argue and say zero, but I believe in trying.” She was practically telling me not to get my hopes up in the kindest possible way, though she was also reassuring me that she wouldn’t give up until there was nothing left to be done.
“I appreciate that a lot. Thanks for believing.”
A half smile and a second later, she went out the door. She exited as quietly as possible, leaving me alone with the baby for the first time.
It only took a few little steps, and I was right there next to her. She looked so tiny… so fragile. She was red-pinkish, her skin appeared to be shiny, as if it was made of plastic, and was practically wrapped around her bones with no fat at all. Tiny hands with miniscule fingernails. Cute button nose. Her eyes were covered with linen-like patches. Tubes covered her mouth, helping her lung function and the others in her body were for feeding and to monitor her stability.
“Don’t give up on me yet, princess,” I whispered into the room, silently vowing to do whatever possible to keep her alive.