My phone buzzes with a call, breaking my concentration. I glance at the screen, hoping to see Cora’s name; instead, I see my sister’s. I’m sure she’s calling to get all mushy on me after spending the afternoon with Cora. You can’t not love Cora; she’s authentic and funny. And my sister is one of the friendliest human beings I know. The only downside is that she talks too much, but I have nothing to hide from Cora, so that doesn’t bother me much.
I’m happy for Fran. She’s always had this thing about having a sister. When I introduced Tessa to my family, Fran had immediately declared that she had a sister at last, and true to her word, they had become closer than biological sisters.
Then the accident happened. Losing Tessa had been devastating for everyone. I push away the maudlin thoughts and focus on the present.
I pick up the call. “Fran.” My smile is evident in my voice.
“Thomas, I don’t want you to freak out. Cora and I had a small accident, and we’re on the way to the ER at City Hospital South.”
My blood goes cold. There’s no small accident when a woman is pregnant. “Cora?”
“She’s okay except for a small bump on the head.”
“I’ll meet you there,” I say tersely.
I grab my car keys and sprint out of my office. So many thoughts go through my mind as I drive to the hospital, which is at least ten minutes away. I wish I’d asked Fran for more details. A feeling of having relived this experience comes over me. Tessa. I fight the comparison, but my thoughts are winning. I recall the phone call that no one wants to receive.
I had been at my office when the call from a strange number had come. The man on the other end introduced himself as a policeman and confirmed my identity. He then told me that I should hurry to the hospital as my wife had been in an accident and was seriously injured.
I immediately knew the severity of the situation as the police did not use words like seriously injured for no reason. I arrived at the hospital reception and didn’t even get to go into the ER. A doctor appeared and took me to one side, and as gently as she could, told me that Tess was gone.
My Tess, who had been happy and cheerful that morning, they were telling me that she was gone. It didn’t seem possible. Even after seeing her lying peacefully as if she were napping, it still didn’t seem real.
Life ended in a heartbeat. I knew that, and I knew the pain that came with it. In seconds, my life went from full to empty. The house we had lived in became too big, and everything I looked at reminded me of Tess. Her favorite chair and blue cushion that she loved to hold like it was a treasured object. When I entered the kitchen, I would be frozen to the spot as I visualized her cooking and singing tunelessly.
The bed was the worst. In the space of a day, it became too big and too cold. In the middle of the night, I would reach for her when I was half asleep and when I came up empty, I would wake up to search for her. Then I would be hit by the kind of pain that feels as if someone is slicing you open without anesthetic.
Then the realization dawned that I would have to live the rest of my life without Tessa, and it seemed like such a long time. I had come very close to giving up. I remember that dark place I had been for years and shudder.
I’ve been a fucking fool. I’ve tasted pain, and it almost pulled me in permanently. I know what it feels like to miss someone so much it renders you completely useless, unable to move or do anything.
I know why that pain is dilapidating.
Love.
When you love someone to the extent that I loved Tessa, you leave yourself vulnerable to that kind of pain if something happens to them. Like a fool, I’m doing it again. I’m allowing a woman to capture my heart, knowing full well that I cannot survive a second loss. I can’t fall in love with Cora. I have nothing left in me to give her, but more importantly, I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to her.
I reach the hospital and sprint from the car to the ER. I see Cora seated alone, and I rush to her. She sees me and stands up. Wordlessly, I take her into my arms.
After a moment, we draw apart, and I peer into her eyes. “Are you okay? Were you hurt?”
“I’m fine, just a small bump at the back of the head, but it’s been checked out, and I’m okay. The baby is okay, and so is Fran. She’s getting checked out. She insisted they see me first.”