Parsons and Smith came in, picking up my cane and me, and gently guiding me toward the door.
I turned around. “Please!”
His face was red and blotchy, his cheeks wet.
“It’s okay, Avery, shh,” Parsons said. “Let’s get you back to your room.”
“A light sedative, Parsons,” Dr. Rosenberg ordered, no inflection or emotion in his tone.
“No,” I wailed. “Please let me stay with him!”
Aunt Ellen met us outside my door, helping the nurses to tuck me into bed. I was limp with despair. It made no sense for Josh and me to have gone through the accident, for me to have the memories I couldn’t forget, for Josh’s brain activity to increase at the sound of my voice, if it was all just a dream. Love was something we couldn’t see, an intangible variable to the equation of life. Who were any of them to say what I felt wasn’t real? Separating us may have been sentencing him to death. Josh was the one person I couldn’t let go.
“It happened,” I bawled. “We love each other. We had a life together.”
Parsons leaned down, caressing my hair while Smith pricked my skin with a syringe, pushing the sedative into my veins. My mind fogged over, my body becoming too heavy to fight against them.
“Just rest, honey,” Aunt Ellen said.
Once again, my eyes closed, but I didn’t dream. I remembered only sinking into darkness, sadness pulling me further into the deep. I wondered if I would ever see my husband again.
I waited in a wheelchair for Aunt Ellen, watching the various cars and minivans load and unload patients and passengers.
The leaves on the trees were already beginning to turn, and the fall breeze blew through my light sweater.
Brakes whined as a yellow cab came to a stop, and the driver side door opened and closed. My breath caught when I saw the cabbie approach.
“Need a cab?” he asked.
My eyes glossed over. “No, thank you. I’m waiting on my aunt.”
“Is she on her way?”
“She’s just coming from the parking lot.”
“I have a card,” he said, digging a creased rectangle from his pocket. He placed it in my hand as if it were an inconvenience. “Call if you need a ride.”
I looked down and sucked in a tiny gasp. “Thanks, Mel.”
Mel hobbled back to his cab, waving once without looking back.
Once the dirty cab pulled away, Aunt Ellen swerved her rental toward the curb, parking next to me. She hopped out, rushing to help me into the passenger seat.
“Who was that?” she asked.
“That was Mel,” I said, holding his card to my chest.
She watched me for a moment, curious, and then shut my door and rushed around the front of the car to her side. “And we’re off,” she said, merging into traffic.
With every mile we traveled closer to my building, I felt emptier.
“I bet you’re excited to get home,” Aunt Ellen said.
“Not really.”
“No?”
“Not without Josh.”
Aunt Ellen pressed her lips together. “That was some dream you had.”
She exited the highway, taking a detour to the pharmacy before parking in front of my building.
“Here we are,” she chimed, twisting off the engine.
I pushed out of Aunt Ellen’s rental, stepping across the leaf-covered ground.
She rubbed her hands together. “Dear Lord, it’s cold for this time of year, isn’t it? It can’t just be that I’m a Floridian.”
I nodded. “It’s colder than usual.” My cane clicked against the sidewalk in a slow, defeated rhythm.
“I did a little shopping. I’m going to make you some spaghetti.” She chuckled. “It’s the only thing I can remember that you like. At least, you did when you were eight.”
“I still do.” I tried my best to smile, but failed.
Parsons stepped out onto the stoop, the automatic lock clicking behind her.
She beamed, her nose already red from the chill in the air. “Avery! Great to see you back. I was just on my way to work. How are you feeling?”
“I’m … I’m good.” It was difficult to speak to her in a civil tone. I was relieved for a moment that Hope trying to seduce my husband had just been a dream, but then silently cursed myself. I would keep the painful parts if it meant I could keep the good.
Hope patted me on the shoulder. “Glad to hear it. I have a lasagna I’d like to bring up for you later if that’s all right.”
“Of course,” I said. “That’s very thoughtful of you.”
With a nod, Parsons hurried down the porch steps. I watched her pull out her keys and make her way to her car. I shook my head. Part of this was her fault, and she didn’t even know it. It was confusing, hating her for something she hadn’t done.
I gripped the railing, pulling my weight upward with slow, agonizing steps. Inside wasn’t much easier, but I was happy to be out of the chilly air.
My apartment smelled of bleach and artificial flowers. “I hope you don’t mind. I tidied up a bit.” She slid my purse from my shoulder and placed it on the kitchen island.
My gaze drifted over the empty space that should have held a table. I looked away. That was from my other life, the one I preferred.
“You’re a minimalist,” Aunt Ellen joked as she pulled a pot from the cupboard. “That will make it easier on us during the move.”
“Move?” I asked, sinking into the small couch in the living room.
I would miss the new pots and pans, the kitchen table, the new mattress, the new comforter, and shams. Most of all, I would miss Josh.
I waited for the scamper of tiny puppy nails against the floor and then covered my mouth. “Dee,” I whispered, mourning the loss of him as well.
“Oh, honey,” Aunt Ellen said. “I can’t stay here forever.” She laughed as she continued to rummage through the groceries she’d purchased.
“I’m confused.”
“I’ve been meaning to discuss it with you, but you’ve been so upset. I just thought it would be easier for me to look after you in Florida.”
“I don’t need you to look after me.”
Setting a jar of sauce down on the counter with a loud clank, she gave me a hard stare before sighing. “You have physical therapy, your car was totaled, and you can’t go back to work yet. You can’t be here alone.”
“I have some money saved up, and I have Deb. I’ll be okay for a little while.”
“What about hospital bills, rent, utilities? They didn’t get put on hold just because you were unconscious, sweetheart. Life went on.”
Life went on.
My chest ached, and I wished it were me who hadn’t woken up. I touched my chest, feeling palpable pain in my heart. I needed Josh. I needed our daughter. I would give anything to fall back asleep and be lying next to Josh in our bed, his hand on my belly as Penny kicked.
“I need to use the restroom,” I mumbled as I slowly limped my way past the kitchen. The smell of diced onions turned my stomach as it mingled with the odor of cleaning supplies.
Flipping the light switch, my line of sight lowered to the floor where I had once curled up and cried, knowing my life with Josh was ending.
I let the cane fall to the linoleum floor with a clatter, gripping the edge of the sink. My eyes rose slowly to meet my own reflection.
“Avery? Are you okay, honey?”
“Fine,” I called back.
It was the first time I had seen the aftermath of what the accident had done. A few yellow-gray bruises marred my skin. A deep purple streaked under my sunken eyes. My cheeks were hollow, like my chest felt. I raised my hand, letting my fingertips slide against my skin. I barely recognized myself; I hardly recognized anything. I was stuck two years in the past, with no hope of the same future. I folded into a sobbing mess on the ground, my body unable to support the horrible reality.
“Avery!” Aunt Ellen shrieked as she lunged toward me, lifting my chin to look into my eyes.
A million thoughts flickered in my mind before I rose to the surface. I looked up, expecting to see Josh above me, devastated all over again to see Aunt Ellen.