Chapter 37
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Andrew
“Good morning, beautiful.” I drag open the curtains and allow sunshine into the dreary room. After adding a little more water to the vase of flowers, I take a seat next to the bed. “The sun is actually out today. Can you believe that? It’s been overcast and stormy for months now, so I’m taking it as a good omen. Marybeth will be here later too, she just had to figure out some stuff for her internship. It’s going to be weird not seeing her every day, but she promises to come down almost every weekend to see us. Otherwise, we will have to road trip up to Portland and harass her. . .” For the next thirty minutes I talk about everything and nothing.
I tell her that the diner misses her, and she’ll have her old job when she wants to go back. I talk about my latest painting and how the prints are selling like crazy.
I could talk until I was blue in the face, keep my tone light and casual or I could scream bloody murder. It wouldn’t matter, she would continue to stare wordlessly ahead with that same blank look in her eyes.
Tessa passed out the second we stepped foot out of that nightmare house, and hasn’t woken since. That was almost two weeks ago. She walks if you lead her forward, eats if you put food in her mouth, and she breathes on her own, but besides that—nothing. The lights are off.
The specialist says there’s nothing physically wrong with her, that the scans have shown an overabundance of activity in her brain. Likely the stress of being held hostage, paired with seeing Chase get shot induced a mental breakdown. There’s an internal struggle beneath the surface of her crystal blue eyes and there’s absolutely nothing I can do.
Nothing except sit here, day in and day out, and hope somehow, she hears my voice. That she listens to the stories I read her and comes back. Not just for me and those who love her, but for the life that continues to grow in her womb. I pull back the blankets and lay my hand on her stomach over the ugly gown they put her in. She’s looking much healthier, for the first time in months, her and the baby are getting the appropriate amount of nutrition and vitamins.
It wasn’t until she was brought to the hospital and I heard the doctors fretting about her being sixteen weeks along, that the truth finally slammed home. I didn’t even have time to come to terms with being a father before I learned of her comatose state.
So, I sit by her side, day in and day out, and I wait.
I wait to see her mischievous smile and adorable scowl. I wait so we can stress about having a child at our young age, or celebrate what it will mean to start our own family. Even if she woke up and hated my guts, it would be better than this terrible silence.
My shoulders slump and I let my head hang down. “I can’t do this alone, Tessa, you have to fight. I need you.” Silent tears roll down my face.
“Oh, hunny.” Mom is standing in the doorway of the hospital room, worry etches deep lines across her forehead. She crosses over to me, and when I stand, she wraps her arms around me in a tight hug.
“It’s going to be okay, our girl is a fighter and she will come back to us. Keep hope my sweet boy, keep hope.”
After a few moments of silence, she pulls back. “Goodness, you are getting skinny. I’m going to go get you some food, and not that awful shit from the cafeteria.” Her nose scrunches up in disgust making me chuckle. “But first, I found this sitting on the kitchen counter at home. We both know where it belongs.” She places something in my hand, kisses my cheek, then quietly retreats out of the hospital room.
When I uncurl my fingers, Tessa’s crown necklace lays in the palm of my hand, the little stones glittering under the fluorescent lights.
This is what she was waiting for, now she can be whole.
Now she can wake up.
Taking an eager seat on the bed beside her, I reach out and fasten the piece of jewelry around her neck. Pulling back, I check frantically for any signs of awareness in her dull blue eyes.
Nothing.
A tortured yell escapes my throat as I drop my face into my hands. What did I really expect? That the old necklace held some sort of magic, and would bring her back?
I lace my fingers with hers, rubbing my thumb gently across her knuckles. “I’m gonna go eat, but I promise I’ll be back later to read.” I lean forward and press a soft kiss to her forehead. “Princess, come back to me,” I plead in a hoarse whisper.
Silence.
I gather my things and shoot a text to my parents and Marybeth suggesting we go out to eat for breakfast. Fear has kept me holed up in this room, and I know they’ve been worried. I need some time with my family, and a conversation that’s not one sided.
“Andrew?”
I freeze with my hand on the doorknob. Terrified that if I turn around, I’ll see that familiar blank stare because my mind is playing cruel tricks. Swallowing hard, I look over my shoulder and drag my skeptical gaze to her pale face.
Tessa’s blue eyes are bright and swirling with confusion as she looks back at me.
Holy fuck, she’s looking back at me.
Throwing my jacket and keys to the ground, I’m by her side in an instant. I cup her face between my shaking hands and search her eyes to be sure.
“Say something again,” I demand.
“I love you,” she croaks out. Her chapped lips crack as they widen into a small smile.
With a strangled sob, I gather her into my arms, kissing every inch of her that I can reach as tears of relief escape my eyes.
“This kinda hurts,” her voice is muffled against my chest.
I release my vice grip on her. “Sorry.” I laugh, delirious with happiness.
Looking around with uncertainty, she asks, “What happened?”
“You’ve been in the hospital for two weeks, but you never. . . you never woke up, baby. I was fucking terrified that. . . I thought you might never wake up,” I admit. I look away, ashamed I was so close to giving up.
Her eyebrows knit as she looks away for a moment. “I killed my mother,” she says matter-of-factly.
I nod. “Yes, but that’s the last time I ever hear you say those words. As far as the police are concerned, you were held captive, and in a fit of heroin induced rage, Trent killed your mother then lit the place on fire, ultimately killing himself.”
Her eyes cloud with confusion. “Won’t they figure out the truth? See that he died first? There are things that won’t add up.”
“The bodies are burnt to shit, plus their reputations precede them both. The police didn’t even bat an eye at the story. They wrapped up the case in a matter of days, they will want to talk to you to confirm the story, but it will be routine.” I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.
She lets out a slow exhale. “I. . . I did terrible things, Andrew.”
I take her hand in mine. “You were being held prisoner, they didn’t get anything they didn’t deserve. You did what you needed to, and I may not understand everything that happened, but I don’t need to. All I care about is that you’re safe, and that I recognize the girl behind those beautiful blue eyes again.”
Her eyes fill with tears. “I don’t know who I am anymore.”
I squeeze her hand gently, my heart thudding with pain for the misery I hear in her voice.
I won’t admit it, but I thought her mind broke in that house, that she gave up and let the darkest part of her suffering take over. When I dragged her down those stairs, and out of the house, she laughed and screamed. An eerie smile spread across her face, and it scared the fuck out of me. When I looked into her eyes, I didn’t see a fraction of my Tessa inside. These weeks of silence must have been her struggling to regain her sanity, making peace with her demons, and allowing her mind to heal the best way it knew how.
The hard part is over, she made it back. But will she be okay?
“Holy fuck, I forgot about this.” She rips off the blanket and points to her rounded belly. It’s not a huge bump, and with baggy clothes it will be easily hidden, but with the gown flush against her body, there’s a prominent curve.
I lay my hand gently over her stomach and chuckle. “Yeah, came as a bit of shock to me too.”
Her eyes fill with tears as her face scrunches up. “I can’t. . .”
I cup her face and rub my thumb gently across her cheek. “Shh, we will figure it out, sweetheart, I promise.”
She nods slowly, but I notice her hands jerk away from her stomach. “And the doctors did they, well, is it okay?”
“They did bloodwork, a pelvic exam, and an ultrasound. Although, it’s too soon to tell much, they said your hormone levels are high and everything looks normal for being sixteen weeks along.”
I see the gears in her mind moving as she calculates frantically. “How long was I in that house? I, I mean, well the baby, is it. . .”
“Mine,” I finish, and her relief is palpable. Her eyes close for a minute, and her lips silently form the words “thank God.”
Her peace is short lived as her face twists in horror. “What about the. . .” She holds out an arm and runs a finger across the fading track marks.
“The doctor said they heard a very strong heartbeat, they can’t know everything for sure at this stage, but that’s a damn good sign.”
She blows out a long breath. “If he’s a boy, I’m going to name him Chase,” she says. A sudden wave of agony tears through her features. Before I can respond, a voice speaks up from behind me.
“Fuck yeah, can I get that in writing?”
By the way her eyes widen, and her jaw drops, I know exactly who our visitor is.