Efia
I haven’t slept a wink since Edgar left. He refuses to answer his phone. I’m worried. Where the hell is he? The weather is horrendous. Flash floods are popping up all over the place, and it’s not like him to fall out of communication for so long. Not even if he’s upset. My phone rings.
“Edgar?”
“No. This is his mother.”
“Oh my God. Is he okay?”
“He was caught in a flash flood last night. We just got a call from the hospital. He’s got a nasty concussion, a sprained wrist, and a number of lacerations, but he’s going to be okay.”
“Oh, thank you, Jesus,” I whisper, clutching my throat. “What hospital is he at?”
“Houston Methodist. We’re on the fourth floor.”
“I’ll be leaving in the next ten minutes.”
“Mija, please drive carefully. One accident is enough tonight, no?”
“I will,” I whisper, awed by the show of acceptance she just issued with one word. I close my eyes as I hang up. Maybe this will somehow be okay.
Balling my fist, I shove it into my mouth as I sob, releasing the tension built up over the sleepless night. I almost lost him tonight. I can’t have that. Suddenly being a step-mother seems like such a small requirement to keep him in my life. I love him with everything I have.
This is the ‘forever until the end of time’ love I’ve waited my entire life for. Nothing is going to get in the way of that. Guilt assuages me. I would’ve come to this conclusion on my own, but all he could hear was the uncertainty. I should’ve realized with his past I’d trigger something. I have to tell him all of this. I rush from the bed, pull on a pair of tights, a bra, and an over-sized Gilborn’s sweatshirt that slips off my shoulder. I stop to brush my teeth and swish with mouthwash before I rush to the front door, slipping on my boots and a raincoat. Grabbing my keys and umbrella, I force myself to slow down. I have to drive with care and focus on the wet streets.
I grip the steering wheel tight as I struggle to keep the vehicle between the lines. The wind and the water work together to make driving an obstacle course. Reaching the hospital parking lot, I slam the car into park and jump out. I dodge the puddles as I jog across the black top to the automatic opening door. After heading straight for the elevators, I take the elevator to the fourth floor. I need to see him with my own eyes before I can relax.
The door dings and I spot his family lined up against the wall.
“Efia,” Maria calls. I rush to her and accept her hug.
“Is he okay?” I ask.
“He is. Didn’t Mom tell you?”
“Yes, but I need to see him.”
“I understand,” she says. “Mom’s been waiting for you to arrive, go poke your head in and I’m sure she’ll switch places with you.”
“All right.”
I go to the doorway, and my heart aches at the sight of him in a hospital gown. The white blanket is pulled up to his chin and monitors beep all around him. His face is swollen and scratched. His eyes are closed, but he doesn’t seem to be resting well. My stomach lurches.
As I tap the door, his mother looks up and waves me in.
“We’ve been monitoring him, checking on his concussion. He’s only just drifted off.” She pats his hand and stands.
“I don’t want to run you out,” I protest.
“No, my boy will be fine, and my old bones needs rest. The waiting here is for the young.I’ll call to check in on him later?”
“I’ll be here,” I say with a nod.
“I’ll take la familia home with me. We know he’s in good hands.” She pats my shoulders and gives me a half hug; it’s everything. Normally I’d be over the moon, but right now all I can do is focus on the man in the bed beside me. I take his hands in mine and bring his hand to me, kissing the scrapped knuckles.
“You scared the hell out of me tonight, Edgar. Do you know that?” I brush my cheek over his hand, hating the way it feels cool.
“I didn’t say no. I said I needed to think. When I got the call from your mother, and I thought I lost you, nothing else mattered. You and me, we’re meant to be together. I refuse to let anything life has to throw at us come between us. I love you, Edgar Alejandro Gilborn. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”