Like this could get any worse. “Tell me.”
“Her blood alcohol results came in. She was at .104 percent.”
Gen gasped. “Oh my god.”
“I’m sorry.” The sincerity in the intern’s voice barely registered. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”
Gen shook her head, unable to speak.
“Let us know as soon as you have the results,” Brian said.
Gen briefly heard the doors open and close, but she was too busy trying to process the fact that her mother had been drunk to care that the intern had left. Why hadn’t she been there to stop her? She’d known all along that something like this would happen. Instead of helping her mom, she’d all but dropped out of her life. What kind of daughter was she?
Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Ivy lifted her head. “What did he say? Is she going to be all right?”
“She made it through surgery,” Brian replied. “But her prognosis is poor.”
“So, what now?” Ivy asked, sitting up straight.
“We wait.”
Ivy shot Brian another concerned look. “How is she holding up?”
“I’m right here. Would you two please stop acting like I’m going to break at any second? It’s not like I haven’t been through this hospital shit before.”
Brian sighed as he sat, pulling her down next to him. “We’re just worried about you, that’s all.”
“Well, stop worrying. I’m fine.” Her voice cracked. “I’m fine.”
Brian wrapped an arm around her just as a sob broke loose. The tears poured down her face and her whole body shook from the force of the release. She couldn’t hold it back any longer. He held her while she cried and she let him.
She must have fallen asleep because Brian was suddenly shaking her.
“Gen,” he urged. “Wake up.”
Disoriented, she picked her head up, squinting her eyes against the harsh lights. Where was she?Anxiety started to build the second she realized she was in the waiting room at the hospital. She noticed Ivy was missing. “Where’s Ivy?”
“I sent her home a while ago. I told her we’d call her if there was any change.”
“Oh, okay.”
“The doctor is here,” Brian told her.
Instantly alert, she stood, blinking several times to clear the remains of sleep from her brain. The moment she saw the somber expression on Dr. Ellis’ face her heart fell.
“What is it?” she demanded.
“Why don’t we sit,” the doctor suggested as he approached.
Her pulse pounded as panic set in. “I don’t want to sit. I want you to tell me what’s going on.”
“I’m sorry,” he began.
“No, no, no.” A sob caught in her throat.
“We did everything we could, but the damage to her brain was too extensive. Testing showed no signs of brain activity. Her heart is still beating and we’re sustaining her breath by means of a ventilator, but she is unable to breathe on her own and has no response to stimuli. Again, I’m sorry.”
“But she could still wake up, right?” Gen asked, willing him to give her the answer she needed.
Dr. Ellis shook his head. “No. Her brain is no longer alive. Without the brain, the body cannot function.”
This couldn’t be happening. She couldn’t lose her mom. “Are you sure?”
“I’m afraid so. We can arrange for you to be with her when we withdraw life support.”
The pressure in her chest was unbearable. Dizzy and unable to draw breath, she crumpled to the floor. Oh god, it hurt. “No,” she wailed. “This is wrong. She can’t be dead. I want my mom.”
Brian’s heart broke as he watched Genevieve fall to her knees. Tears stung his eyes as he bent down and tried to comfort her. She struggled, pushing him off, and made a run for the bathroom. As difficult as it was, he let her go.
Clearing his throat, he stood and faced Dr. Ellis. “Let us know when you’re ready. She’ll want to say goodbye.”
“I’ll send Dr. Grant out.”
“Thank you,” Brian responded sadly as he watched the doctor leave.
With a deep sigh he walked to the bathroom and leaned against the door. The sounds he heard coming from within tore at him. He hurt for her. She was sobbing uncontrollably and he couldn’t blame her. She’d just learned that her mother was brain dead. He knew from personal experience that grief, when fresh, was crushing. He’d give anything to be able to take her pain away.
He knocked softly. “Gen.”
“Go away,” she choked out.
“
Please
, let me in.”
He waited several long minutes. Just when he was about to knock again he heard the door unlock. He eased the door open and peeked inside. He didn’t see her until he looked behind the door. She was seated on the floor in the corner with her knees tucked to her chest and her face buried in her hands. Her tiny form trembled with sobs.
He closed the door, locked it and sank to the floor next to her. Knowing he had to tread carefully, he sat as close as he could without touching her. He didn’t want her to push him away again, but damn, it was hard. The need to hold her and kiss away her tears was strong, but he fought it. Instead he placed his hand palm up on the floor near her.
It seemed an eternity before she reached out and slipped her hand into his. The contact, even as small as it was, sent relief washing through him. He wanted more. For the first time, he realized he would always want more of her, no matter the circumstance. He wanted not only her smiles and her laughter, but her pain and her sorrow. But more than that, he wanted to share himself with her. That was something he’d never been able to do, not even with Danielle.
Genevieve leaned her head back against the wall and stared up at the ceiling. She drew in several deep breaths, her face smoothed into a blank mask. She was packing her emotions away. He recognized it because he was an expert at it. He hated that she’d had to learn that skill. It was one of the reasons he was so screwed up.
“I can’t do it, Brian,” she whispered. “I can’t watch her die.”
He was quiet for a few silent breaths before he made the decision to do something he’d never really done. Open up.
“When I was twenty-four I lost someone very close to me,” he began, even though it felt as though someone had suddenly driven a knife into his throat. “Her name was Danielle. We were together for close to two years. One night she wanted me to go to a club with her. I hated clubs even then. Of course I didn’t want her to go either. We fought about it and she ended up going without me. I went to bed angry with her and when I woke up the next day, I was too stubborn to call and check on her. I wanted to punish her for defying me. I spent the morning thinking up ways I could do that. I got a phone call from her mother just after two in the afternoon. Danielle and her friend had been in a car accident on the way home from the club. She died before I could get there.”
Gen’s sharp gasp echoed through the small room.
“I should have called her. No, I should have gone with her. Maybe then…” He broke off, swallowing down his guilt. “The point is, I never got to say goodbye. I’ve regretted it
every single day
since then. You have to say goodbye, Gen. It will haunt you if you don’t.”
She looked at him for a long time, her eyes searching his as if she were trying to work something out in her head. “Is that why you came tonight, because you thought it was me?”
A barrage of emotions, too many to name, filled his chest like a balloon ready to burst. He took a minute to breathe through them. The drive over, the debilitating panic, the fear of losing her was too fresh. He hadn’t been on the other side of it long enough to lock it all away. More than that, he wasn’t sure he wanted to. But this was neither the time nor the place to rip himself open.
“Yes,” he replied, testing out the word, not sure he could trust his voice. “It was like reliving a nightmare, but so much worse. I thought I was going to lose you.”
The flat, empty eyes that stared back at him were like a fist to the gut. She’d shut him out. Was this how she’d felt when she was with him? Christ, it was awful. He had no choice but to grin and bear it. This wasn’t about him. This was about getting Genevieve through the death of her mother. Still, it hurt to see her look at him as though his confession had meant nothing at all.
“Come on,” he said as he stood. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” He pulled her to her feet then helped her wash her face. Once she was a little more composed he led her back out into the waiting room.
“I’ll go with you,” he told her. “You don’t have to do it alone.”
“I don’t know if I’m strong enough,” she whispered.
“You’re so much stronger than you think you are.”
They both went still as the doors opened once again.
Dr. Grant came out, looking solemn. “It’s time.”
Brian took her hand in his and gave her a gentle squeeze. “Deep breath. You can do this.”
They followed Dr. Grant down the corridor to a room on the left. Gen froze just inside the door, a pained whimper coming from her as she caught sight of her mother. Emily’s head was heavily bandaged and she was hooked up to several machines that beeped and hissed as they monitored her heart and helped her breathe. It was hard to look at, even for someone who hadn’t known her.
“Once we turn off the ventilator—”
“I don’t need to know,” Gen said, cutting him off.
“Okay then. I’ll give you a few minutes,” Dr. Grant said before he ducked out of the room.
Brian leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “I’ll be right here.”
Gen released Brian’s hand and approached the bed. He’d finally let her in, showed her a piece of his soul and although it gave her a bit of strength, she was simply too numb to care. Hesitantly, she reached out and ran her fingers over her mom’s frail arm. She looked so broken. Her chest rose and fell with the whine of the ventilator. Her face swollen and bruised beneath the bandages.
She wanted to run. She didn’t want to face this. It was too hard. But Brian was right, she needed to say goodbye. She’d end up hating herself if she didn’t.
What was she supposed to say though? It felt strange to talk to a person she knew technically wasn’t really there. This was just a body. The heart, soul and everything that made this woman her mother were already gone.
She was gone.
The words suddenly rushed out of her. “Mom, I’m so sorry this happened. I wish there was something I could have done. Some way I could have helped you.” She blew out another breath and wiped a tear from her cheek. “I’m so angry at you for leaving me. I need you. I know that’s selfish, but I do. I need you. I know you haven’t been happy for a long time. You miss Daddy. I don’t blame you for that. I miss him too. I guess you’ll get to see him now. At least you’ll be together again. Maybe you’ll be happy.
“I know I didn’t tell you enough, but I love you. I’ve always loved you even through all our problems and fights. You’re my mom. I still think about the fun we used to have when I was little. The good times? I’m going to focus on those. I still have that bat costume you made me when I was six. You remember that? And one day when I have a little girl, I’m going to read her that copy of
Alice in Wonderland
you gave me and I’ll tell her all about you. About your smile, your laugh, the way you would sing to me…”
She wiped her eyes on her sleeve then turned toward Brian, suddenly knowing exactly how she needed to say goodbye. “Can you please tell them I’m ready?”
“You sure?” he asked.