Eva
For a split second I thought about finishing Justin off, not to show the man mercy, but to ensure that he would never be able to terrorize Jamie or me again. However, the sight of Jamie clutching his shoulder and wincing in pain made me forget all about Justin’s pitiful gasps and the disturbing gurgling sounds coming from his throat. I ran over to Jamie, took one look at the pool of blood already forming on the ground beneath him and then retrieved a clean hand towel from the kitchen. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted my phone on the counter and swiped that too before returning to Jamie. I fell to my knees, and though I knew it would hurt like hell, I pressed the towel against the wound I couldn’t see clearly due to all the blood.
“I know this hurts, baby.” I applied pressure with one hand while the other dialed 911. The operator tried to get me to calm down, but the more I spoke, the more I reported on what had happened, the more I relived every horrifying moment. I was bordering on hysteria, but somehow the man on the other end of the line was able to tease out my address, our names and that Jamie had been shot by a man named Justin Hall. “Hold on, Jamie . . . don’t you leave me.” I positioned myself so that his head was in my lap.
“Eva,” he said, his voice raspy.
Coughing and then wheezing erupted from across the room, stealing my attention, just long enough for me to witness Justin taking his last breath. I felt no remorse, not an ounce of pity for the monster who had bled out on my living room floor. I felt nothing. “He’s dead, Jamie. You saved me.” When I looked back at Jamie he was staring at me, but his breathing had changed and now he was taking shallow breaths. “No! Jamie, stay with me.” His eyes fluttered and then they closed for good. I was in the middle of screaming at him to wake the fuck up when the medics arrived. They had him on a gurney and into the ambulance within minutes. I rode along with them to the hospital. I tried to answer the medic’s questions, but I was basically useless. I couldn’t think beyond this moment, past or future. I prayed to God and asked him not to take Jamie, even if it meant that he couldn’t be with me, but with his church. When we reached the hospital Jamie was taken into the ER. I watched the team of doctors and nurses work quickly on the man I loved until a nurse and two policemen ripped me away.
A few minutes later the nurse had me wrapped in a blanket with a cup of terrible coffee warming my hands chilled from my adrenaline crash. I wanted to tell the policemen to leave me the hell alone, that my statement could wait because I needed to get back to Jamie, but I knew from experience that whatever I was about to say would set the tone for the investigation that was going to occur whether I wanted it to or not. By the grace of God I told the gentlemen exactly what I needed to without incriminating Jamie or myself. Appearing somewhat satisfied, they left and I quickly called my attorney. Like the well-paid but dedicated attorney that he was, he directed me to sit tight while he made his way to the hospital. I called Nathan next and told him what happened. I knew that he deserved more details than I gave him, but I needed to get back to Jamie. Nathan didn’t press me but told me that he would call his dad and would be there as soon as possible.
I ran back to the ER but Jamie was nowhere to be found. I asked several nurses, including the nurse who had helped escort me to the exam room with the police, where Jamie had been taken. That same nurse, who I wanted to kill for making me leave Jamie in the first place, smiled, put her arm around my shoulder and led me down a hallway. We stopped outside of Room Eight. “Your husband lost a lot of blood but the doctors were able to stabilize him. His vitals are looking good but he will need a lot of rest.” I nodded and allowed her to lead me into his room.
My husband.
I loved the sound of that so much that I didn’t correct her. “Can I . . . touch him?” I asked.
The nurse peered down at my bloodstained tank top and pajama pants and frowned. I didn’t blame her for looking at me like I had just stepped out of a horror movie. “Your husband will be out for a while most likely. This room has its own private bathroom and shower. Why don’t you go wash off while I find you something to wear? We don’t want him seeing you like that, now do we?”
I didn’t care that I looked like I had just survived some zombie apocalypse. All I wanted to do was crawl into that narrow hospital bed and hold Jamie and watch him breathe. But I knew the older woman was right. I was covered in blood and the memories of tonight. I hung my head and nodded.
Just ten minutes later my hair was clean and my skin scrubbed. I threw on a pair of aquamarine scrubs that the kind nurse had left me and went to Jamie. He was still in the same position when I had left him; on his back, hooked up to various machines and an IV sticking out of his arm. My eyes drifted to the machine that tracked his heart beat and I was happy to see the strong, steady waves on the monitor.
“Are you Eva?”
I turned around and faced a man who appeared to be in his late sixties. He had gray thinning hair and kind but tired blue eyes. “Yes, I am.”
“I’m Doctor Shall. I was in the ER when Mr. Curran was brought in.”
“Will he be okay? He hasn’t woken up yet.”
“That’s to be expected. To be honest, his body will heal faster if he rests.”
I knew this doctor with the kind and gentle tone was not giving me lip service, but everything hit me at once and I began to cry like a baby. Two arms encircled me as I sobbed into his chest. “He spoke your name,” the doctor said as I drenched the front of his white coat with my tears.
“When?” I asked, stepping out of his embrace.
“Mr. Curran was coherent for a few seconds while we worked on him. He said your name before he fell asleep. I’m not sure if that comforts you or if I had just made things worse, but I . . .”
I covered my eyes with my hand and shook my head. “No, you didn’t make it worse. Thank you for telling me.”
He’s alive. He’s breathing. Breathe, Eva.
I opened my eyes.
The doctor nodded and I saw relief wash over him. He then grew serious and said, “The bullet missed every major artery and cleanly exited his back. We were able to close up the wounds without him having to undergo surgery, but he will need to remain on antibiotics. He is still at risk for infection, but . . . well, let’s just say that Mr. Curran is a very lucky man.”
Luck had nothing to do with it. God had been with him. God had kept him safe. “Can I stay with him? His dad and brother will be here shortly. I don’t want to leave him.”
“Of course. But remember that he needs his rest.”
I nodded, and with a smile he left.
Finally alone, I grabbed a chair that was by the window and placed it next to Jamie’s bed. I then lowered one of the bed rails so I could hold his hand. I leaned over and kissed his fingers. Beneath the antiseptic I could still detect his scent: soap and sandalwood. Careful not to jar him in any way, I rested my head on the bed next to his arm. My eyelids soon grew heavy. Exhaustion took over, and I allowed the gentle hum of the machines to lure me to sleep.
I didn’t know how long I had dozed. But what I was certain about was that someone was playing with my hair. “Jamie?” I looked up at him and he smiled.
“Did you get a job here?” He peered down at my nursing scrubs. “How long have I been out of it?” I sat up and kissed him on the lips as softly as I could. But he didn’t want gentle. Instead, he grabbed the back of my head and kissed me with much more heat than I thought he was capable of, considering that he had just been shot.
When he finally let me up for air I said, “I thought I lost you.”
“I’m here and I’m yours . . . if you’ll have me,” Jamie said, his tone serious.
“But the . . . church?”
“I will always serve the church. I will always serve Him. But not as a priest. I will find another way.”
As much as it pained me to bring it up, I knew I had to. Because what if his guilt resurfaced? It could at any time and then we would be right back where we started. “Nate told me, Jamie. About how guilty you felt for not being there. That you thought it was your fault that he was assaulted and that was why you made that promise to God.”
I waited for his demons to take hold of him but they never did. Instead, something miraculous happened. He cupped my face and said, “Nate was right. I did feel guilty, so much so that it blinded me. But today I saw the truth . . . and it was overwhelmingly beautiful. One day I’ll tell you what I saw, but for now I need you to trust me.”
“You would really leave the priesthood?”
“I already went to the bishop and told him about us. I wanted him to know why I was requesting dispensation to return to the lay state. That was where I was before I came to you tonight.” His fingertips feathered my cheek and I saw his eyes well with tears. “Eva, forgive me for not seeing the truth sooner, for not telling you until now how much I love you.”
“You love me?” The tears were just an endless stream, and I didn’t bother to wipe them away.
“I think I fell in love with you that very first night we met.” A lone tear escaped and slid down his cheek.
Without another thought I slid into bed with him and kissed it away. I then took his beautiful face in my hands, gazed into his eyes and said, “I love you.”
“Say that again,” he demanded. His eyes darkened and then I felt his hand travel to the back of my head again.
“I love you, Jamie.” He gripped my hair and brought his lips to mine. It was a leisurely kiss but full of passion, the kind that could easily erupt into much more if we let it, if we both conveniently forgot that we were lying in a hospital bed as he recovered from a bullet wound.
With a nip to my lower lip he ended the kiss. “You’re mine, Eva.”
I became his the day I knelt before him and told him my sins. I was just about to tell him that when I felt like I was being watched. I looked up and saw my mother and David lingering in the doorway. Jamie followed my gaze.
What was my mother going to say? How would David react when he learned that his son was leaving the priesthood for a woman? His very own stepdaughter? I tried to stand but that only made Jamie grip my hand tighter. He then raised my hand with his and gently kissed my fingers. “Jamie and I . . . we didn’t plan for this to happen and I know what people may say. What you probably think about me right now . . .”
My mother, not David, stepped through the doorway first and said, “I don’t care what people may say and as for what I’m thinking right now? I’m thinking about how I almost lost my daughter tonight just when I got her back. I’m thinking about how beautiful my daughter is, inside and out, and wonder why she has given me a second chance. I’m thinking about how precious life is, and if you love Jamie and he is what makes you happy, if he is what put that smile on your face when you were at our home on Christmas Day, then I want nothing more than for you two to be together. Because that is what I want . . . I want you happy.”
I gave Jamie’s hand a squeeze and then stood and faced my mother. “Jamie does make me smile. But you want to know what else makes me happy? Having a family I can go to when I need them. Knowing that you have a man in your life who loves you so much that he was willing to call a stepdaughter he had never met before and do something crazy, like ask her to Thanksgiving dinner.” I looked over at David and he winked at me. I returned my attention to my mother. “I’m happy because you and I found our way back to each other . . . and that we were both given a second chance.”