Left Behind

Amelia

For twenty-four hours straight, I pray for a miracle I know deep down will never come. With my head resting on Noah’s chest, I listen to his heart beat every second I can. I only move long enough for restroom breaks, doctors to check him, and for them to check me.

Everything in my body hurts. I’ve never felt pain like this before, but the pain in my heart, in my soul, trumps anything my body is going through. Most of the time Sawyer sits in a chair in the corner while I cry, weep, and plead with God not to take Noah. I wait anxiously for Noah’s loving arms to suddenly wrap around me tightly and for him to kiss the top of my head like he’s done so many times before. But it never happens; Noah never so much as flinches.

When the last specialist finishes, Tony, Sawyer and I talk over the results. They all show the same thing, Noah is gone. Each of the doctors went over their results with us but we wanted to look them over one last time as a whole. Six of the world’s best neurological experts unanimously agree—nothing more can be done.

After we finish, the doctors step back inside and have me sign the necessary paperwork. I can barely scribble a line I’m so upset. The hopelessness in the air suffocates us all. Before leaving, the doctors agree to sedate me so I can say my goodbyes. When I wake up, it will be over; however, it will only be the beginning of my nightmare. I’ve got no idea how to live without Noah and Belle.

With their deepest sympathies ringing in my ears, I know my time is up. I have to find a way to say goodbye to the love of my life so the people who have loved him his whole life can say their goodbyes, too. I’ve been selfishly taking up almost all of what little time we had left with him, but they had so much of his past and I had so very little.

Tony and Sawyer follow the doctors out, but Sawyer returns a few moments later with Nate. My son, who is perfect in every way and who I’m terrified to even touch. But I will for Noah, so he can say goodbye. Bringing the baby close, I line his lips up to Noah’s cheek and press them together. I know it’s not exactly a kiss, but it’s the best I can do, especially with the tube in the way. I pull Noah’s arm around Nate and position us into a family hug the best I can.

My eyes catch Sawyer’s—his are bloodshot and broken and my heart aches for him. I wish I could comfort him right now in his time of need, but I can’t even see past my own grief to help him with his.

“Say goodbye to Daddy, Nate,” I say on a sob as I pass the baby to Sawyer to take back to whoever has been keeping him while I’ve been here. When Sawyer leaves, I press the call button for the nurse so they can medicate me as I try to figure out how to say goodbye. The first thing I do is kiss his head, his cheek, and the corner of his lips before bringing my mouth to his ear.

“I don’t know how to do this, Noah. How do I say goodbye to you when I just found you?” I pause and try to clear my throat. It’s pointless; I want to be strong for him, but my crying supersedes my strength. “We were supposed to be a family and now I’m alone. I can’t be the mother he needs. You should have been the one who lived, you are the better parent for him.” My sobs are uncontrollable, but I have to find a way to push through. “I pray you and Belle are together right now. Take care of her, Noah, watch over her for me. I’m not sure how to live without you both, or if I even want to. She’s my best friend and you’re the love of my life, what am I supposed to do without you guys?”

The door opens and I nod as the nurse comes inside. There’s never going to be a good time for this, and as much as I’d love to stay in Noah’s arms forever, his family is waiting. I pull his arm around me and rest my head over his heart. After injecting the medicine into my I.V. port, the nurse leaves and I feel it taking me fast. “I’ll love you forever, Noah. Thank you for loving me and showing me what love is. Please watch over Nate and me and if you can, keep me from messing this up. I’m so scared, Noah, but I love you, I love you … I love you …”

When I wake up, the sun is streaming through the window of my hospital room. I feel like Noah is in those rays of light somehow. Mama and Eli are at my bedside and Sawyer is sitting on the floor in the corner of the room. His head between his legs, his body is wracked with sobs, and Nate’s bassinette is next to him.

“He’s gone?” I whisper.

Eli squeezes my hand. “Yeah, Mel, about three hours ago. I’m so sorry.”

Silent tears stream down my cheeks, but I’m numb. “How did I get back here?”

Mama looks to Eli and he shrugs. “Do you really want to know?” he asks, and I nod. “Sawyer carried you back and tucked you in before saying his goodbyes.”

My eyes dart immediately to Sawyer, a whole other piece of my heart breaking for him. He’s a good man, but he’s going to be just as lost as I am without Noah.

“Can you give us a minute?” I ask, and they both exit the room. “Sawyer, can we talk?”

He looks up at me and shakes his head.

“Fair enough. Can you at least come closer so we can cry together?”

He complies, wheeling Nate over with him. My eyes take him in like a much-needed breath. My body relaxes slightly as I see his tiny body move as he inhales and exhales. All Belle and Noah would have wanted is for their children to be safe, and they are.

“Thank you for taking care of us.”

Sawyer looks up at me and speaks through his pain. “I promised him I would, and I always will.” His hand meets mine and he squeezes it lightly.

“I think you would have even if you didn’t promise. But Sawyer … we’re … we’re not your obligation. You don’t have to be there. I won’t hold you to it. I don’t want to be anyone’s last promise or debt. You’re off the hook, okay?”

Those words are painful to speak because I need Sawyer right now. He’s all I have left.

“There’s no hook, Mel … you’re family. We look out for each other, always.”

The two of us settle back into our own grief and I eventually drift off again, letting the medication take me under so I can forget, at least for a little while.

I wake up to Cadence babbling. When I look over, Eli and Darren are sitting next to me and Sawyer is sitting in the corner of the room. At least he’s in a chair this time, and he’s feeding Nate.

A pang of regret fills my heart that I’m not the one taking care of him right now, but I’m not ready. “Hey, baby girl,” Eli says as he gently squeezes my thigh.

“Hey,” I croak as Darren turns Cadence toward me. As soon as she sees me, she smiles, and I smile back at her through my tears. She’s Belle to a T. Darren looks about as bad as I feel, but at least he’s putting on a brave front for his daughter.

“The doctors say you can go home tomorrow and then we can all get out of here,” Darren says as he sets Cadence at the edge of my bed. Her fingers wrap around mine, and when she pulls them to her mouth, I feel it right away.

“She got her first tooth.”

“Yeah,” he says remorsefully. “Belle knew it was coming and she was right. I hate that she’s not here for this, for any of this.” Darren’s words split me open again and a steady stream of tears begin to flow.

“Me, too. What do you mean everyone can leave? Who’s here?”

“You’re joking, right, Mel?” From the look I give him he must be able to tell I’m not and he shakes his head in disbelief. “No one has left this hospital since you guys were brought in. Not one of us. We came in as a family and we go home as a family,” Darren chokes out.

“They don’t have to stay …”

“Yes, they do. Family sticks together. You’re one of us now, get used to it.” Sawyer’s tired-but-firm voice leaves no room for argument. “But just so you know, Diane and Rob left a little while ago to get back to the girls. They said to give you their love.”

A doctor and a nurse enter the room so Eli and Darren move to step out. Darren bends Cadence toward me and I place a kiss against her sweet little cheek.

“Mrs. Weston, how are you feeling?” the doctor asks and quickly corrects himself. “Physically, how are you feeling?”

“About the same, I guess. Sore, achy, broken, sad.”

The nurse moves to take my vitals and begins removing the tape from my I.V. when she’s finished.

“We’re moving you to oral medications. You’ll be discharged with something for pain and anxiety, as well as an antibiotic for your wounds. We’ll go over all your discharge instructions with you in the morning. Please be mindful that you are slightly concussed and will have to take it easy for the next three to six months.”

“Why so long?” I ask in a panic.

“You have three fractured vertebrae. There’s no treatment for them other than rest, restrictions, and time. We’ll get you a brace to wear if it helps with the pain, but it’s not necessary if you’re careful.”

“I didn’t realize …”

“I’m sure you didn’t. It’s been a rough few days and you’re extremely lucky to be alive … so is your son. I’d go as far to say you’re both miracles. You’ll need lots of help, but it seems like you have a good family support system.”

“She does.” Sawyer’s statement, once again, is firm and commanding.

“Very well. Nurse Reynolds is going to help you through a shower and give you your first dose of oral medication. She’ll assess your limitations as well as show you how to care for your wounds.”

“Okay, thank you.”

The nurse helps me up. Never once does Sawyer make a move to assist, but he watches cautiously from the chair just in case. In the restroom, she helps remove my gown, and I gasp when I get a look at myself in the mirror.

I’m black, blue, and purple pretty much everywhere. After removing the bandages from my head, she proceeds to remove the rest from my lower legs, where lines of staples fill my skin.

“We want to keep these covered while you heal a bit more, but you can remove the bandages for the shower. You’ll want to avoid taking a bath until after your postpartum recheck.”

I’d imagined all of this so differently. Noah hovering over me in the hospital tending to my every need, acting every bit the proud father he would have been. As sobs wrack my body, I grab onto the safety bar on the wall.

With a sympathetic gaze, Nurse Reynolds nods toward the shower. “It will make you feel better even if it hurts. Do you want the shower chair, or do you think you can stand?”

I appreciate her for not making me feel weak, for not acting like I shouldn’t be grieving, for not making me feel any more vulnerable than I already do.

“I think I’ll be okay.”

She lines up some toiletries on a shelf in the shower and turns on the water, then puts a shower bag over my cast. “I’m going to stand here. If you need help with anything, I’ll get in with you. My scrubs can be easily changed if wet.”

“Okay.” As I step into the shower, the warm water feels like it’s pelting my skin in rapid fire. It’s on the softest setting, but fuck it hurts.

Between my painful hisses and my curses for not being able to get the shampoo in my hair properly, Nurse Reynolds takes it upon herself to step inside and help me. I’m too sad to be embarrassed about it.

“I have a daughter your age,” she says as she soaps up my hair. “You remind me of her.” She pulls the showerhead down and rinses my hair before conditioning it. “I was on duty when you were brought in. What you went through wasn’t easy, and what you’re going to have to go through next will be hard. I witnessed you giving birth to that little miracle in there and I know you’ve got a tremendous amount of fight inside of you. When you feel like you’re at the end of your rope, please remember that.” She sounds like she’s speaking from experience, but I don’t have a reply to give her.

After she finishes my hair, she steps back out and dries off a bit while I finish. Never once does she worry about her own comfort as she waits for me. After helping me dry off, she helps me into what she calls after-delivery panties and a fresh gown. I’m not sure I feel any better, but I do feel clean. The last of any physical particles from that night have been officially washed down the drain.

Mama is sitting next to my bed when we come out of the bathroom; she looks so tired and worn. It makes me feel guilty I’m here when Belle isn’t. “Hey, baby girl, let me help you brush your hair.”

My heart floods with love for her. “Mama, can I have a hug first? Please?”

With tear-filled eyes, she gently wraps her arms around me. “That I most definitely can do.”

This woman is my world. The only one aside from Belle and Eli who has seen me through darkness before.

After Mama brushes my hair and helps me get settled in bed, Nurse Reynolds brings me some medications and I thank her for all her help. When she leaves, Karen and Owen come inside, followed by a girl who’s about my age. They step aside to let the girl do her business; she seems nervous.

“Mrs. Weston, my name is Debbie and I’m from the hospital records department. I know the timing isn’t the best but I need a moment of your time.”

Sawyer comes closer and stands next to me with Nate, practically waiting to go in for the kill if she missteps. I can see the determination in his steely gaze.

“We need to verify that Nathaniel is your son’s given name. It is what we’re currently using on his medical records. This document is his official birth record. I need you to confirm the information, make any necessary corrections, and fill in the blank spaces.”

I hold up my broken wrist so she can see the cast.

“Oh, in that case, I can fill it out for you. We’ll have you sign it the best you can with your other hand once you confirm the information. We’ve completed the parent information already so you can let me know if there are any changes needed when you review it before signing.”

Swallowing over the lump in my throat, I answer, “Okay.”

“Is Nathaniel his given name?”

“Yes.”

“What is the middle name going to be? Or does he have one?”

The memory of Noah and I deciding his name hits me hard.

“It’s perfect. Nathaniel, it is. What about a middle name?” I asked him.

“What if we wait to meet him for that? We can make a list and see if his personality or his looks match.”

“That’s perfect, Noah. Did we really just name our little boy?”

He chuckles at my excited squeal. “Yeah, Mel, we sure did. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Always.”

 

“Noah. That’s his middle name. Nathaniel Noah Weston,” I tell her without a doubt in my mind. He looks just like his daddy and should carry his name.

Everyone around me is crying, but Karen nods frantically, as if my choice is the best thing she’s ever heard.

“Okay, please look this over and we’ll get it filed.”

After reviewing the document, I sign it the best I can and she leaves. I’m so tired. Between the shower, the medicine, and the stress, all I want to do is sleep.

“Amelia, we need to talk to you about something,” Owen begins, and Sawyer maintains his protective stance next to me.

“Baby girl, we need to plan the services and would like your input,” Veronica finishes.

Services.

Plural.

My input …

“Do whatever you want, but as far as my input goes … closed to the public and a joint service. I can’t do this twice. If that’s okay with you guys, the rest of it is details I don’t need to be a part of.”

“Mel …” Karen begins, but I close my eyes and shake my head.

“No, my husband and sister are … gone. I’m sorry if it’s selfish, but I can’t wrap my head around it. I don’t need a funeral to understand. If it were up to me, there wouldn’t be one.”

My body begins to tremble as I feel the impending breakdown coming. “I’m not trying to be a bitch. I know people need closure. Make the arrangements and I’ll be there. I’m just not capable of anything else right now. I’m sorry.”

My sobbing steals my breath and my words as my body shakes uncontrollably. I’m not sure how Noah thought I was strong enough to make these decisions. I’m not. My strength came from him and now he’s gone.

“Alright, Amelia, we’ll take care of it,” Owen says, effectively ending the conversation. “Also, the nurse brought this for you.” Owen hands me a small bag.

I’m barely able to get it open, but my heart drops when I look inside. It’s the last of Noah’s effects. It’s pointless to try to stop crying at this point.

“There’s another bag with his clothes and shoes, but they’re probably not in a condition for keeping,” Karen adds softly.

I dump the contents onto the table in front of me—his wallet, his wedding ring, his eyebrow ring, and the guitar pick from Nate’s birth announcement. He carried it with him for luck. Whole lot of fucking good it did him.

“Karen, can you keep these for me until we get home?” I want to put Noah’s ring somewhere safe so Nate can have it one day.

“Of course,” she replies.

“Thank you. Now, can someone please get me a wheelchair? I need to go to the chapel.”

Mama reaches out for Nate and Sawyer gets the chair for me. After helping me into it, he pulls out his phone and texts someone.

“Is everything okay?” I ask, wondering what could be so important right now.

“Yeah, the rest of the hospital isn’t as private as where we are. They’re doing their best to keep people out, but I want Mac to clear the chapel just in case.”

Fucking fans and fucking paparazzi. My sobbing has barely subsided but I’m suddenly filled with rage.

Once we’re inside the chapel, Sawyer pushes me to the front where the candles are.

“You might want to move me away from those. I’m likely to burn this place to the ground given the chance.”

He pulls me back to the end of a pew. “Do you want to sit?”

“No, but you might want to leave for this.” If I didn’t know better, I’d swear he almost smirks at me.

“I’m not going anywhere, Mel. You do what you gotta do.” He sits on the opposite side of room and he hunches down, rubbing his face with his hands. He looks like hell and I wonder if he’s even slept.

“Mama always told Belle and me in our darkest hour we still have to find a way to get right with God. Because as much as God takes away, He’s also the one who gives. So I’m going to get real with You right now, God. You’re a motherfucking son of a bitch.”

Sawyer draws in a sharp breath, but I don’t care. My blasphemous soul can go to hell because it’s not any worse than where I am right now.

“Who the fuck do You think You are? Why am I here? You’ve taken away everything and everyone I’ve ever gotten close to!” My chest heaves and my body aches, but it feels damn good to get angry. “Every time I let love into my heart, You rip it away. You should have just taken me and put me out of my misery. Instead, You took two of the best people I’ve ever known. I don’t understand it and I won’t … not ever. What have You ever given me? A family who was ripped away one at a time? A husband to love but only for a short while? A best friend who was a sister in every way that mattered …”

My sobs are relentless; I can barely breathe. Everything in my body hurts as my anger succumbs to sadness once again. “That beautiful baby boy who looks just like his daddy but doesn’t have one anymore? What am I going to do with him? He needs Noah, asshole! He needs Noah …”

There’s no point in pleading and screaming anymore. I’m never going to be right with God after this. With my head in my hands, all my grief comes pouring out. Eventually, Sawyer picks me up and carries me back to my room, leaving the chair behind.

Karen is sitting next to the bed, with a bottle on the table beside her. She’s holding Nate and eyes me with a concerned gaze. When Sawyer puts me down, I’m still trying to catch my breath from all the crying.

“Amelia, I think it would be good for you to feed your son,” Karen says as she tries to hand me the bottle.

“I’m tired and sore. If you don’t want to do it, let the nurse do it.” I’m exhausted; the last thing I want to think about is Nate.

“I’ll do it, Mom. Why don’t you try and take a nap,” Sawyer says as he takes the seat next to her. With a hesitant glance thrown my way, she relents and gives the baby to Sawyer. My eyes are heavy and flutter closed as Sawyer takes over his brother’s job.

The next morning, after a breakfast I barely touched, I’m given extensive discharge and follow-up instructions along with quite a few prescriptions. Karen is sitting in the corner with Sawyer and Nate and everyone else is on their way to the airport.

“Sawyer, can you give me a few minutes to help get Mel dressed?”

Sawyer picks up the car seat Nate is already snuggled in, sleeping peacefully. “I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

I can’t move. I’m not even trying. There’s no point because there’s nowhere to go from here. “Come on, Mel, if you stand up we can get this done quickly,” Karen says, and I notice her exhaustion for the first time. She’s aged a decade in only a few short days and it’s all my fault. I try to stand for her, but it hurts everywhere.

“Why are you helping me?” I wail as I sit back on the bed, exhausted.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she replies with nothing but a mother’s pure love reflecting in her eyes. “Because you’re our daughter, and we love you. Noah would want us to help you through this.”

“But I’m not family anymore, am I? He’s gone and you’re not obligated to help me. It’s okay.”

“Amelia, you will always be our family. No matter what, that will never change. You are Noah’s wife, you are Nate’s mother, and you are our daughter.” Her voice cracks as tears begin streaming down her cheeks. “I know you’re hurting, we all are. But listen to me when I tell you this … The only way out is through. I know you can’t see it now, but until you can find your own way out, we will guide you through.”

“Karen,” I cry, collapsing onto her shoulder, “I can’t do this without him. I can’t live without him. We should have gone together and Belle should have lived.”

“Shh,” she whispers as her fingers weave through my hair. “There’s no rhyme or reason to life, things happened the way they were supposed to. I’m going to miss Noah, for the rest of my life but he would have wanted you to live. I won’t pretend this is going to be easy. But I will be here to help you, Amelia, every step of the way.” I’m amazed at the way she’s been keeping herself together for her family, but seeing her cry makes me feel even closer to her in this moment.

She unties the hospital gown and helps me get dressed. Somehow, I will my body to move enough to put on the pajamas she brought for me and climb into the wheelchair. I’m ready to go home … the thought of which sends me into a panic.

The door opens as I look up at Karen with fear-filled eyes. “Where am I going? I don’t even have a place to live anymore. And Nate … Oh God, I don’t even know where I’m going.” As I lower my head into my hands, Sawyer sends Karen outside.

The next thing I know, he’s crouched down in front of me, pulling my hands away from my face with his own tears covering his cheeks.

“You listen to me, Amelia Weston, my house is your house. It’s our house. No one is making you go anywhere. You were Noah’s wife and what was his is now yours. Nate’s nursery is ready and waiting for him. You’re family, Princess, get used to it. We’re not letting you go anywhere.”

“Okay,” I manage to choke out through snot-filled sniffles as Sawyer passes me a box of tissues.

“Hang onto that, you’ll probably need it.”

“Thank you.”

“Sure,” he says.

“No, Sawyer, thank you for giving me a place to go.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that. Friends help friends and I need you right now as much as you need me. Without Noah … He was my everything, Mel, and you’re the only one who truly gets that.”

After a few moments of silence between us, Karen and Nurse Reynolds come inside followed by Mac.

“Are you ready, Amelia?” Nurse Reynolds asks.

Am I ready to leave the last place I ever saw my husband alive? I have no words for her so I just give her a slight nod.

“Mel, you should know there are still a lot of people outside. They’re here for you and Nate.” Sawyer’s confession doesn’t exactly surprise me and yet it does. But when we finally make it to the doors of the hospital, I’m shocked at exactly how many people are here. They’re stretched as far as the eye can see. There’s a mass memorial with candles and photos, offerings of love and support.

“I want to see that,” I tell Sawyer, pointing to the massive display of love for Noah.

“Mel, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he cautions.

“Fine. Mac, push me over there, please. Karen, can you put Nate in the car?”

Sawyer grumbles and pushes my wheelchair to the other side of the drive where the memorial is set up. When we reach the front, a hush falls over the crowd and no one moves.

As I gaze over this display of love, I’m crying before I realize it. There are photos of Noah everywhere, but not just him. Most of them are of the two of us or of our first family photo. This is their way of acknowledging our family. Because they’re still here even when he’s gone, it says so much.

Finally, I look up at Sawyer, who is also crying, and tug on his arm. “What’s going to happen to all of this stuff?”

“I guess someone will come along and toss it eventually.” That’s what I thought.

“Can you get someone to take all the bears and stuffed things up to the children’s floor? And maybe collect the flowers and send them to patients who don’t have any family here? And the photos and signs … get someone to send those to me.” He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.

“It’s what Noah would do, Sawyer. It’s what he’d want.” Next, I turn to Mac.

“Feel like yelling?” I ask, and a small smirk picks up on the corner of his mouth.

“For you, anytime.”

“Tell them thank you, that Noah would have loved their kindness, and to honor that we’re going to give the flowers and toys to people inside the hospital but that all their notes, photos, and signs will be sent to me. And tell them …”

I’m not sure about this next part, I’ll do it but for Belle.

“Tell them I’ll update the Slammed blog when I’m feeling up to it with a proper thank you of my own.”

I’m continuously wiping my tears away as Sawyer turns us around to face the crowd. They listen to Mac’s words with rapacious attention. Most of them are crying just like us, and for one of the first times ever, I feel for them. They’re suffering Noah’s loss in their own way. Just because they didn’t know him doesn’t mean they didn’t love him.

I don’t miss the few reporters in the crowd, or the flashing of their cameras, but there’s really no story here anymore. We’re just a family grieving; they’ll go away eventually.

Once we’re at the car, Sawyer and Mac help me into the back seat where Nate is positioned in the middle between Karen and me. He’s sleeping contentedly as if nothing is amiss, and I guess, in a way, for him it isn’t. This is the only reality he will ever know. That thought alone sends my emotions into overdrive once again.

“Are Noah and Belle back home already?” I ask to anyone who will give me an answer.

“Sweetheart, they’re flying back with us. The funeral home is meeting us there.” With her words, my grief again bubbles to the surface. I’m still crying thirty minutes later when we reach our destination. Mac carries me onto the plane. I don’t argue because I’m not sure I could have even made it up the steps. As Mac carries me to the far end of the plane, I’m overcome by the sadness shrouding all of their faces. Sawyer boards with Nate and straps him in between Karen and Owen. I’m glad; he’s probably a comfort to them and right now he’s an extra burden for me to deal with. Sawyer straps in next to me and then helps me with my seatbelt. As the plane takes off, my one good hand grips the arm rest and Sawyer peels my fingers off and holds my hand. He knows how scared I am to fly, but he doesn’t release me when we level off in the sky. His head falls back onto his seat and his eyes are closed. Within minutes, he’s asleep. If him holding onto me allows him some rest, I’ll give it to him because I’m going to need his help over the next few weeks.