“Just checking her vitals,” a nurse says softly, entering the room.
I grab the chair next to the wall and move it close to the bed before falling into it. Carefully, I pick up Aspen’s hand to hold it in mine, my thumb softly tracing her knuckles. “Can I clean her up?” I ask when I bring her hand to my lips for a kiss.
“Sure, I’ll grab some supplies. We can have the nursing staff do that when she’s admitted upstairs,” she offers.
“No.” I shake my head. “I want to do it.”
Her eyes soften. “I’m sorry, we don’t allow that. However, I promise to take good care of her.”
The door closes softly behind her, and I place my attention back on Aspen. “Aspen.” My voice breaks. I bring her hand to my lips and kiss her palm. “I don’t know if you can hear me right now, but if you can, I need you to listen. Can you do that, baby?” I pause, swallowing hard. “I need you. I need you to fight this. I need to tell you how much I love you. I need to see those pretty hazel eyes when I tell you that I plan to love the fuck out of you for the rest of our lives. I want to marry you and have babies with you. I want to watch our babies have babies. With. You,” I emphasize. Resting my forehead against the mattress, I keep her hand held in mine as my tears fall freely.
“Please, God,” I whisper. “Please don’t take her from me.”
The door opens again, and I wipe at my cheeks with the sleeve of my sweatshirt. “She’s been assigned a room,” the nurse, who was just in here checking her vitals, informs me. “She’s going to be on the third floor, room 3098.”
“Are you moving her now?”
“Yes. If you want to inform your family and head up that way. There’s a large waiting room just across the hall from her room.” She smiles softly.
“Thank you.” Standing, I lean over the bed and place my lips against her forehead. “I love you. They’re taking you to a new room. I’ll meet you up there.” I don’t know if she can hear me, but I hope so. I hope she hears my pleas for her to come back to me. I need her to hear me so I can tell her I love her. So I can look into her eyes and tell her what she means to me. I vow to never let a single day pass by that I don’t tell her how much I love her.
My feet are heavy as I make my way back to the waiting room to give our family an update. As soon as they see me, they’re all on their feet. All eyes are on me as I approach them.
“She’s… I don’t know if she can hear me,” I say, defeated, my eyes cast to the floor. Hot tears begin to build behind my eyes. “I told her that I love her, but I don’t know if she can hear me.” I look up at our family to find they all have the same look of grief and misty eyes as well. “I’ve never said the words to her. I wanted to, but I didn’t want to scare her away. I tried to last night, on the phone, and I think she knew, but she stopped me. I get it. You don’t tell the love of your life over the phone for the first time that you love them, but I felt this urgency to tell her. Now, what if I never get the chance? How will I live with myself if she doesn’t come out of this and she never knew that she lived right here?” I place my hand, palm flat against my chest.
“She knows,” Aurora cries. “She knows, and she loves you too.”
“She has to wake up, Rory. She has to. I need her to wake up.” I know I’m being irrational. The doctors have assured me that they are keeping her asleep with sedation. However, I still have this deep-rooted fear that she might not wake up. What if decreasing the medicine doesn’t work? What if I never get to look into her eyes and tell her I love her?
My dad steps forward and places his hands on my shoulders. “You fight for her, Conrad Riggins. Do you hear me? You fight for her. You hold onto the magic that is your love for her, and you fucking fight.” Dad’s voice is stern, but there is an underlying sadness to his words. “She needs you to be strong. She needs you to be her strength in all of this.”
Wiping at my eyes, I nod. “They’re uh, they’re putting her in a room. Third floor, room 3098. The nurse said there’s a waiting room just across the hall.”