Wethering the Storm (The Storm 2)

“I’m right here, sweetheart. I’ve been here waiting for you. God, baby, I’ve missed you so much.”

She blinks. Once. Twice.

I hold her stare, my heart, and my breath as I wait for her to find focus.

Fear seeps into my stilled heart.

I’m so very fucking scared that this isn’t the same Tru. That she doesn’t recognize me. Or worse.

Kish had warned me that her memory could be affected. Or there could be irreparable damage to her brain.

Either way, whoever I have here, I’ll take her. I’ll take any version of Tru I can get.

Her lips part, but the only thing I hear is a light breath escape.

“Shh, don’t try to talk, sweetheart.” I smooth her hair back. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

I watch her eyes, waiting. Desperately waiting to see if this is my Tru.

She closes her eyes, and I see a tear trickle from the corner of her eye.

My heart implodes.

When they open, her gaze hits mine, and I see Tru’s fire in there, the recognition of me in her eyes, and I know she’s back.

I’ve got my girl back.

TRU…

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Jake, I know you’re there, I can hear you talking.

Why isn’t he answering me? Who is he talking to? Why does he sound so upset?

I need…

Jake?

I can barely think. I need to open my eyes but…

“Hurt.” I can hear “Hurt”…

How long have I been awake? Is that Jake yelling? Who is he yelling at?

God, my head hurts. My whole body hurts, for that matter.

I try to open my mouth to speak, to tell him to stop yelling, but my lips feel like they’ve been glued together, and there’s an intense burning sensation in my throat. I’m so thirsty.

Giving up on talking, I try to move…but I can’t. I feel weighted down.

Everything hurts. What’s wrong with me? Something’s different. Something’s wrong. I feel wrong.

Oh God, what’s happening to me?

Jake, I need you to help me!

I hear a door bang.

No! Don’t leave! Please don’t go!

Fuck!

I need to move.

I focus with all my might on moving my left hand. There’s a pain screaming down my right arm and I dare not attempt to move it.

I’m scared.

No, you’re okay, Tru. Just keep calm and you’ll be fine.

Maybe I’m just sick? Yeah, that’ll be it. I’ll have one of those really bad twenty-four-hour flus or something. God, I hope the baby isn’t sick with me.

I just need to get a part of me moving; then everything else will follow, and I can get to Jake. Once I get to Jake, I’ll feel better.

I focus on moving my index finger. I feel it move.

Thank God.

Gaining confidence, I go to move the rest of my fingers.

Okay, here we go.

Flexing them in and out, I shift my left hand and my arm moves with it.

Okay, I just need to get up now, maybe if I—

“Trudy?”

What?

Who is that? Is that…Susie? Why is she here?

With huge effort, I wrench my heavy eyes open.

Everything is foggy. Dark. I can’t get a focus on anything.

Then I hear voices calling out. More yelling.

Dave?

Then Jake…I hear Jake. He’s back.

Thank God.

“Tru.” He sounds fearful. “Tru, baby, I’m here.”

Why does he sound so scared?

Fear starts to prickle my skin. I need my fucking eyes to work! Goddamnit!

Then Jake’s yelling again, “Get the doctor!”

Doctor? Where the hell am I?

“Get Eva and Billy!”

Mum and Dad?

I feel his fingers touch my face. “I’m right here, sweetheart. I’ve been here waiting for you. God, baby, I’ve missed you so much.”

He’s missed me?

At the feel of Jake on my skin, my worry starts to ease. That man has the power of touch, I swear.

I blink though the haze, desperate to see him. It feels like ages before my eyes focus.

Then they find his beautiful face.

He looks really tired. Like he hasn’t slept for days. Worst of all, he looks afraid. I can see it clear in his eyes.

The last time I saw Jake look like this was when I found that girl in his bed. And that was because he thought he was going to lose me.

Oh God, what’s happened, baby?

I need to talk to him.

With every ounce of strength left in me, I force my lips to part.

I try to make the words, but my throat screams in pain and the only thing that escapes is a breath.

“Shh, don’t try to talk, sweetheart.” Looking at me with love in his eyes, he smooths my hair back with his hand. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

It’s not okay. Nothing about this is okay.

I close my eyes and feel a tear of frustration squeeze from the corner, running down my temple.

I open my eyes and meet with Jake’s. I see what I think is a glimmer of relief in his.

Then the ache in my head intensifies. My eyes feel heavy. I’m struggling to keep them open…

How long have I been awake? God, my head is pounding like a bitch.

I move my tongue around. The inside of my mouth feels like the morning after a really bad hangover, and even moving my tongue takes real effort right now.

Bloody hell, what’s wrong with me?

I reach into my memories but don’t come up with much, and it hurts my head to try. I remember being in bed with Jake yesterday morning…showering…Jake asking me to stay home. Then…nothing.

If I didn’t know better, I would think this is the mother of all hangovers, but there is no way it could be—pregnant lady here.

Well, I might not know why I feel like crap, but what I do know is I really need a drink of water.

With much effort, I force my gritty eyes open.

It takes a moment to adjust to the light.

Ceiling tiles. I can see ceiling tiles. Those really awful ones you find in offices. What do they call them—asbestos ceiling tiles?

Why would I be somewhere with those? Where the bloody hell am I?

I take a light breath. My throat burns again.

Jake.

Jake’s here. I can smell his scent close by.

With much effort, I turn my head to the side. Shit, that hurts. Jake’s sitting in a chair by me.

“Hey, baby.” He reaches over and strokes my face, cupping my cheek with his hand.

I can see tentativeness in him.

“Wh-ere…” God, it hurts so much to get that one word out. It reverberates around my head, setting the pounding off again. Steeling myself, I finish with, “am I?”

Jake moves closer to me. He leans down and kisses the hand he’s holding, then lifts his head and looks at me. “You’re in the hospital, sweetheart.”

The hospital? Why? Is the baby okay?

“Ba-by?” I exhale, broken. I try to sit up.

“No.” Jake gently eases me back down. Not that I had gotten very far. The pain in my head exploded the moment I tried to lift it. “Don’t try to get up.”

My eyes move past Jake, down to my bump.

My heart drops hollow.

Where my bump was is now a flat, empty surface.

Oh God, no! No, no, no, no, no! Where’s my baby?

I want to scream, cry, something…but nothing is working.

I’ve lost the baby.

No.

The pain I feel is unbearable.

I start shaking my head, uncaring of the pain. Tears run from my eyes, pain pushing them out.

Jake takes my face in his hands, holding me still. He stares into my eyes.

“Our baby is fine, Tru. I swear to you.” His voice is filled with so much conviction. Staring into his eyes, my fears start to calm.

Jake wouldn’t lie to me.

But if our baby is fine, then why am I not pregnant anymore?

That means my baby was…born?

Jake strokes my hair gently, looking at me like he often does—like I’m the most precious thing in the world to him. But this time, with even more intensity. “Everything is fine now, Tru. You’re back and everything’s going to be okay.” I’m not quite sure in this moment if those words are meant for me, or him.

Jake leans in and kisses my tears away. The feel of his gentle breath against my skin, the warmth of his nearness, is like a salve to wounds I didn’t even know I had.

He shifts back, looking into my eyes, but keeping my face in his hands. “You were in a car accident, sweetheart.”

Fragments of memories instantly blur into my mind. I was at the spa with Simone…Dave waited in the parking lot all day for us…I teased him about it…we were all driving home, listening to Pearl Jam…“Just Breathe”…then…nothing.

Simone. Dave.

It must be the look on my face that prompts Jake to say, “Simone and Dave are fine. The impact was on the passenger side. Your side.” He sounds like he’s in physical pain as he says these words. Jake pushes my hair behind my ear using his fingertips. “You were in a bad way. I thought I was going to lose you…” His voice breaks, his eyes filling with tears.

Slowly, with much effort, I lift my good hand and touch his face. “I’m…okay,” I reassure him.

He holds my hand to his face, kissing the palm.

A tear drips from his eye and lands on my cheek. I can literally feel the pain it represents.

“You hurt your head real bad in the accident.” His eyes flick from mine to my forehead. “You were in surgery. Our baby was in distress. The doctors had to perform an emergency C-section, Tru. He was born before I even got to the hospital.”

He.

I watch him, stilled by his words. “We have a son, Tru. And he’s beautiful.”

A son. We have a son.

“He’s doing real good. He’s breathing on his own now. It took a while before he could, but a few days ago they removed his ventilator and he did great. God, he’s so amazing, Tru. He’s growing stronger every day. They said he should be able to start feeding from a bottle in a week or so.”

I can’t help but cry again. These tears are sheer happiness. Nothing else matters to me right now other than knowing my baby is here and he is healthy.

Then I realise—I haven’t been asleep for a day. Everything Jake’s said to me, from the way he’s talking and the way he’s looking at me…I’ve been away for longer than just a day.

Moistening my lips, I part them to speak. “How…long?”

His eyes dip. “You were in a coma for seven days.”

I inhale sharply, causing the burning to start in my throat again.

Seven days. My son has been here all that time without me.

“You first woke up two days ago. But you kept coming in and out of consciousness. Kish told me that was perfectly normal—oh, Dr. Kish. He’s the doctor who’s been taking care of you,” he explains at my questioning expression. “The first time you woke up was for a few minutes, but you didn’t talk. For the last two days, you’ve been here a little. Sometimes you’d open your eyes for a few seconds. Sometimes minutes. You even mumbled a few incoherent words. But this is the first time you’ve actually talked to me. This is the longest you’ve stayed awake, so I’m taking this as a good sign.” He smiles, but it’s not one of my Jake smiles. It looks forced.