Sara Jane

Where are the impassioned eyes that frequent my dreams, the hair that falls forward over the windows to his soul? Where is the only one that will give my heart the peace it seeks?

Instead, I’m met with the disapproving scowl of my father.

“Where is Alexander?” I ask, just as a nurse rushes in.

“Is everything all right in here? How are you feeling?” She starts checking the monitor. The ticking of my heartbeat is steady again, and she exhales loudly in relief.

When she starts messing with my pillows, I reply, “I’m fine. Have you seen my husband?” Husband. My husband. I love the sound of it so much I consider repeating my question just to hear it said out loud again. My father storms out of the room, and my mother steps up to the end of the bed replacing him.

The nurse says, “We tried to get him to go home and rest, but he refused, so I suspect he’ll return in a few minutes.”

Sensing the tension, the nurse leaves the room while reminding me to call for her if I need anything.

My mother says, “Please go easy on your father. He’s concerned about you and just wants what’s best for you.”

“The best for him. Not me.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because if he could see feelings, he would see how much I love Alexander, something my words apparently don’t portray clearly.”

“Alexander is the reason you almost died.”

“No,” I snap, shaking my head, and then turning away. “Alexander is the only reason I’m alive.”

“Sara Jan—”

“Please leave me be for a few minutes. I want to be alone.”

“Honey.”

My eyes slide back to hers. I won’t justify my love to them. I refuse. “It’s time you accept that I’m a Kingwood now.” The lie feels too good to deny. The last name floating from my lips as if it was the one I was born with.

“I’m going for coffee,” she says. “I hope when I return you’re in a better mood.”

“My mood is fine. You can get a latte or anything else you want, but you can’t change destiny.”

“We don’t have to accept our fate either.”

To her back, I ask, “Or do we?”

She stops, her shoulders falling a bit before she leaves.

I’m not alone long enough for repercussions or regret to set in. Alexander walks in with a smile on his face. “Hey there. You’re awake?”

“I am.”

“I was hoping to be back before you woke up.”

He sits down next to the bed and holds my hand. I like the way he treats me as if nothing’s changed, as if we haven’t, when everything has. “Where’d you go?”

“Fresh air. No offense, but this hospital is stale and your parents aren’t the most welcoming.”

“I’ve noticed. I’m sorry.”

“It’s their problem not ours.”

I sigh. “I mean about earlier.”

“Don’t be.” He sits back in the chair. “You’ve been through a lot, baby.”

Tears form and I slowly move my arm to lift the front of my gown to my eyes. Just dabbing them hurts. I can only imagine what I look like. I’ve not been given a mirror and since I’m confined to the bed, I haven’t gotten to the bathroom. I look up at the ceiling. Two tiles over to the stained tile in the corner and five tiles to the window. It’s too sterile here, cold for my arms and my emotions equally. I want to be in bed with Alexander holding me. I want to see Shelly. “When will I be released?”

“Released?” He scoffs. “You do realize you just came out of surgery like, I don’t know, not even twenty-four hours ago, right?”

“I don’t want to stay here. Please.”

“What are you asking? You want me to bring some clothes and you walk out of here? You can’t walk, baby. You shouldn’t. Not yet.”

“Please, Alexander.”

“I can pay for the best care around, but if something goes wrong, you need to be here at the hospital. Anyway, I was told you’d be out of ICU tomorrow if everything continues to go well. A few days in the regular hospital wing and then I’ll take you home.”

Home?

“Where is home exactly?”

His voice is low with his head dipped down, his eyes on me, when he asks, “Where do you want it to be?”

The question throws me. He asks as if he doesn’t know me, doesn’t know I’m his home, like he’s mine. Looking at Alexander, at this broken soul before me, the answer is so clear. “I want to be with you.”

When I’m gifted with the smile I love so dearly, I wish I could kiss those lips for days. I whisper, “Marry me. For real.”

“I love you. You know that, right?” His hand finds mine again and his thumb runs over the top of my knuckles.

“I do. That’s why I want this with you.”

“No, Firefly. You don’t get to take that away from me.”

“I just want to be with you.”

“And I, you, but I’ve stolen everything of value of yours—your heart, your virginity, your kindness, your life. I won’t allow this, something so important to be treated as casually as the rest. Not now. Not ever.”

“I don’t care about the superficial stuff like elaborate weddings and all that. I just—”

“No.” His answer is curt. Firm and final.

“Everyone treats me like I’m a child, like I don’t know what’s best for me.”

“What’s best for you, Sara Jane? Tell me.”

“You. And apparently, you felt I was for you or why the elaborate lie about us?”

“Because you know they would have kept me out. I couldn’t bear it. I lied, and I would do it again because I’m sitting next to you, looking at your pretty face and hearing you tell me you love me when I didn’t know if I’d ever get the chance again.”

“You did get this chance again, so I want—”

“I want to be with you, too. In all ways. Please believe me. First, I want to make things right by you as well.”

Our gazes hold and though I’d love to stand my ground on this issue and marry him right now, I’ll respect what he wants. “What a fine mess we’re in.”

“They believe us.”

“But for how long, Alexander?”

“As long as we don’t confess.” Standing next to me, he comes even closer, bends down and kisses my forehead. “I’d do anything for you. You know that. I want to be with you. Let me have this. Let me propose when it’s right. It’s the only thing I have left to give that will wash my sins away.”

“My love can do that. Just let me give it to you.”

My hand is brought to his lips. “You’re my beautiful firefly. So delicate—”

“Not breakable. They tried to break me. They didn’t. I’m strong, babe. I can be what you need.”

“You say this as if we aren’t together, as if our destinies aren’t so entwined already that we haven’t become one for eternity.”

“I say this needing more right now, here on earth.”

“I’ll give you everything you need, baby. Just let me do it my way.”

His way. As much as things have changed, they still remain so much the same. If proposing to me is so important to him, I can give him this. I just want the happily ever after. “Okay. I’ll wait.”

“Thank you.” The tip of his finger traces along my collarbone and down my arm. “I have something to ask you, but I don’t want you upset. It can’t wait though.”

“Okay.” I brace myself, the muscles in my shoulders tensing.

“When you’re released from the hospital I want you to come stay at the manor.”

The manor. It’s a subject that makes my stomach hurt and my head spin. So many memories—good and bad—wrapped up in one location. When I was driving back, I knew what I was choosing when I decided to return to Alexander. It’s not my favorite place, but it’s where he is, so I’ll go. Taking a deep breath, I try to settle my nerves, and just when I’m about to answer him, a doctor walks in with my parents following. “Good to see you awake again. I have good news. We’re moving you out of ICU. Your numbers are good—blood pressure, heart rate—they have remained in the desired range. There seems to be no slowing down for you post-surgery.” He smiles. “You’ve improved at a tremendous rate.” He pulls out a penlight and instructs me to relax while he checks my eyes, shining the light inside. “Any drowsiness that feels abnormal other than from the medicine or post-surgery tiredness?”

“No, I’ve felt fine. I’ve actually not felt much at all, which I appreciate. I hate pain. I have such a low tolerance.”

Standing back and clicking the light off, he replies with a chuckle, “I could argue that. You’re doing well, but if you do have any pain, don’t hesitate to let me or one of the nurses know. You don’t show signs of a concussion, so we won’t need to schedule a scan.”

“Okay. That’s good.”

“That is good.” Leaning against the bedrail, he says, “I’d like to make sure everything’s healing nicely before I sign the paperwork for the transfer.” After I lift the gown to my ribs, he lifts the bandage very carefully away from my skin. “This looks good. Clean. No signs of infection. There’s some swelling still, but that is expected with the bruising. When you’re settled into your room, a nurse will go over the aftercare and how to change bandages. There will be a point where you’ll stop covering it, but that will be after a post-release checkup.” He pats my hand gently. “You’re a very brave and strong woman.” Once I’m tucked back in, he asks, “Ready for a change of scenery?”

“Definitely. How long do you think I’ll need to stay in the hospital?”

“If all continues to go well, maybe two more days. Infection is a concern, but that’s not a reason to hold you here longer than necessary if you show no signs of one.”

My dad says, “This is good news, Sara Jane.”

The doctor types on his iPad while I lie in bed caught between my father and Alexander. The two men are on opposing sides of the bed, each holding a bedrail. The room is too quiet, so noticeably that the doctor looks up at the awkwardness. “Everything okay, gentlemen?”

Alexander replies right away, “As long as Sara Jane is good, I’m good.”

The anger that floods my dad’s features isn’t there for long, but I catch it. When I glance to Alexander, he did too. My dad finally turns to my mom and ignoring the doctor’s question, says, “This is good news, Doctor. We’ll be ready to help her however we can.”

My mom rests her hand on my shin on my father’s side of the bed as if the weight will favor their side in this battle.

Torn between the two men who love me most, I glance from one and then to the other. When my eyes settle on my dad, I reply, “It’s great news. I’m definitely ready.”

The doctor laughs. “Let’s not rush things. We’re not in the clear quite yet, but I’m optimistic, as you should be, but let’s take a few days and keep an eye on things. Do you have an appetite?”

“Not really.”

“The nurses will talk to you more about that, but I’m here for the next twenty-four hours if you need me.”

“Thank you.”

“Take care, Sara Jane.” He steps toward the door and adds, “Make sure to get some rest.”

“I will.”

As soon as he’s gone, my mom says, “I’ll cook your favorite meals this week if you’re up for it and those cookies you always loved. We can settle you into your room or set something up downstairs if you prefer to be by the backyard window and TV.”

They’re desperately trying to hold on to me, and as much as I appreciate it, I reach for Alexander’s hand, wanting him to know he’s not alone. I’m on his side. Did I ever have a choice? I don’t remember having that option from the moment we met. “We were talking earlier, and we think it’s best if I recover at the manor.”

Alexander stands tall beside me, his jaw tense, his eyes focused on them, but the smallest of smiles playing at the corners of his lips. When my father’s eyes slide from me up to his, a reignited anger brews inside as a red haze creeps up his neck, and he tugs at his collar. Mom says, “You’re going to take care of her?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Alexander replies. “I’ll give her the best care.”

She meets my father’s eyes, and winces under his hard-set glare. She’s not deterred from making peace. “And love?”

“I love her with all that I am,” he replies, his voice strained by the weight of the words he feels so deeply.

Staring at him, my mother’s lips press together, and the tension around her eyes softens. “I know she feels the same about you.” Walking around the bed, she approaches Alexander. “She can’t be replaced.”

His Adam’s apple bobs with a harsh swallow that I can’t hear over my own. He then whispers, “I know.” The pain and guilt he carries finally get the best of him.

She moves closer and wraps her arms around him.

“Jenny,” my dad warns. Ignoring him, she takes a step back, her eyes trained on Alexander. I’m not sure Alexander embraced her, my tears clouding my vision. As they topple over my lower lids, my dad’s wedding ring clashes with the metal of the bedrail, startling us from the sweet moment. “As if you haven’t put her through enough already, you think you can just waltz in and take her home with you. This is serious, son. She almost died because of you.”

“She was attacked,” Alexander counters, “out of—”

“No! You and I both know this comes back to the Kingwoods, to you, and to your corrupt father. Are you going to keep dragging her back until she’s six feet under? I won’t allow it this time. I will fight every step of the way.”

“Daddy!”

His eyes swing my way. “I don’t care what you say, Sara Jane. He’s no good. His family is evil, and it will seep into your skin and strangle you. I don’t know what happens at that manor, but nothing good can come of it if everyone eventually ends up dead.”

“Stop,” I demand.

“David,” my mom cautions, “Not now.”

“When?” he retorts. “When we’re standing over her casket instead of a hospital bed?”

I’m about to speak, but stop when Alexander says, “She’s my wife. As such, you’ll stop talking to her like she’s a child.”

“Like my daughter? Is that what you mean? I can’t talk to her like she’s my daughter, you bastard?”

“Dad!” My monitor alarms, my heart beating in rapid succession. “Ow,” I cry out, grabbing my side, which inflicts more pain. “Alexander, help me.”

Stroking my hair, he soothes, “I’m here. I’m here, baby.” He stretches across and pushes the button for a dose of morphine. “Take a deep breath.”

A nurse runs in and stops in surprise when she sees everyone, the tension thick as she wades through to check on me. “Try to calm down. Take a breath and calm your heart rate or you’ll be stuck with me a lot longer.”

The joke is lost on me, the pain too much. Tears fall for new reasons as the room begins fading to black. I reach for Alexander, but my hand falls to my side, numbness taking over. “Please,” I say, my mind disconnecting from the world.

“Please what, Firefly? Anything. Anything. What do you need?”

“Please don’t leave me.”

“Never.”

My lids grow heavy and I let my mind drift away.