Read Bent not Broken Online

Authors: Lisa de Jong

Bent not Broken (63 page)

“Melanie, my love,” he whispered against my hand. His lips caressed my skin.

A cloud surrounded my head when I was finally able to keep my eyes open, like there was a haze hovering in the room. Everything was a blur—except for the hazel eyes staring down at me.

They were filled with complete anguish.

Everything became clear, confusion turned to clarity. Fear raced through my veins. “Eva?” I struggled to form the word, to ask about her, to call to her. My mouth was dry, my tongue thick, and no sound came. My hands searched for her, clawing at the emptiness of my belly in panic.

“Shh...shh. Baby, please calm down. You’re going to hurt yourself.” Daniel’s hands restrained mine as he leaned over me and spoke against my ear. I calmed against his touch, unwilling to fight him, feeling his tears roll down my cheek and into my hair.

I swallowed, saliva wetting my mouth as I licked my lips and found enough moisture to form the word. “Eva?”

All of his breath left him as he stilled against my face, finally pulling away to look me in the eye. No words were said as he shook his head with tears running in a continuous stream down his face.

No?

His meaning soaked into my soul like poison. Soundless sobs racked my body as I fought to deny the truth. My baby girl. How could she be gone?

Unbearable sadness consumed me and I was sucked back into the darkness, the pain too great to face. In moments of utter blackness, I struggled to find her, to go to her, but Daniel’s soul called me back to him, willing me to survive. When I could resist him no longer, I opened my eyes, once again, to meet his. Our grief poured between us as we silently mourned her.

He spoke first, his voice cracked and strained. “Melanie, I’m so sorry.”

Of course he was sorry. I was sorry, sorry for our pain, sorry for our loss. But the tortured look on his face told me that he blamed himself.

Shaking my head, I reached out for Daniel’s cheek, wiping the tears from under his eyes. “I love you,” I said as I weakly tried to smile at him. He squeezed his eyes tight as more tears fell, and he shook his head against my hand, his body trembling.

“I don’t deserve you, Melanie. You can never understand how sorry I am. If I could change it...” His chest heaved with his escalating anguish.

I ran my hand through his hair in an attempt to ease him. “Look at me.” I cupped his cheek. His face contained more pain than any one person should ever bear. “It wasn’t your fault. You can’t blame yourself for this.” I didn’t know all the details of what had happened, but what I did know was that the car had come out of nowhere. “It hurts me even more to think of you blaming yourself for this. Please, I need you to forgive yourself for whatever you think you’re responsible for.” I rubbed the back of his neck, looking him in the face, making sure he understood and accepted what I was trying to tell him.

He sighed and nodded a silent promise to move on.

“Tell me what happened,” I pleaded.

“Melanie, I...I…”

“Please,” I choked out. As much as I knew he wanted to shield me from any more suffering, he had to tell me. I didn’t want to know, but I had to know.

“Are you sure you’re ready to hear it?” The devastation on his face tore me apart.

I nodded, and he gripped my hand tighter. He stared at his feet for a few moments before finally looking at me.

“Eva…she lived for two days.”

I gasped, struggling to get air in my lungs.

“What?” I rasped out.

Wetting his lips, he swallowed hard. “She was so beautiful.” His face was so sad, but there was a light in his eyes when he spoke of her. “So small. God, Melanie, you can’t imagine how small she was. So perfect.” He talked about her with a reverence and love I’d never seen before, and I smiled as he described her, my tiny baby girl.

“Did you hold her?” I bit back the sob that threatened. He nodded, rubbing my arm. “A few times, but not for long. I would have held her all day if they had let me, but the nurses wanted her to be in her bed as much as possible.” I realized where he’d been all those times when I’d felt his absence. He was taking care of our baby girl.

“Thank you,” I whispered through my tears as I held him close to me. “Thank you for taking care of us.” I kissed his dry, chapped lips, unable to imagine the pain he must have felt over the last—days? I wasn’t sure how long it had been. There was still so much I didn’t know.

I pulled away, my hands on his chest. “Are you hurt?” I asked, for the first time able to focus on more than just his eyes. A huge bruise covered the left side of his face and a small row of stitches sat just above his eyebrow. But he was dressed in normal clothes and sitting beside my bed, it obvious his worst injury was a broken heart.

He shook his head. “No, I’m fine. A couple of cracked ribs,” he said as he pointed to the stitches on his brow, “and this.”

Cracked ribs? “Does it hurt?”

“Honestly, Melanie, I really haven’t even thought about it. It’s not a big deal.”

“How badly was I injured?” I asked. I hurt—everywhere.

He took in a deep breath, slowly blowing the air out through pursed lips as he ran his free hand nervously through his hair.

“You were on the ventilator for three days. They kept you on it until the swelling went down around your brain,” Daniel grimaced as he described the reason I’d been out for so long. I followed his gaze down my body. “Your right leg is badly broken. You’re going to need some pretty intense physical therapy when you get out of here, but Dad says you’ll heal fine. You have a lot of bruises and cuts all over...” he said as his voice trailed off. He broke eye contact as he looked away.

He was hiding something from me.

“Daniel, everything,” I demanded. Unease raced through me when I saw his face again filled with agony, his jaw held tight in an attempt to hide the obvious trembling. I was terrified at what would cause him this reaction, but I pressed him. “Everything.”

He closed his eyes, his beautiful face weary and broken. “Baby.” He tried to keep his voice soft, but it cracked. “You were bleeding.” He paused, waiting for my reaction. I blinked at him, not understanding what about that could cause him so much pain. He cleared his throat, swallowing. “What I mean is...” He stalled.

“Melanie.” He gathered up my hand in both of his. “The cesarean...there was too much bleeding...”

He didn’t have to say the words because I knew by the expression on his face what he was trying to tell me. I couldn’t have more children.

Never would I give Daniel the family he wanted.

Never would I be a mother.

I gasped against the pain, clutching my chest as I tried to breathe, a full panic attack taking over my body. I was devastated. We lost our baby girl and now we couldn’t have another—well, not we. Me.

Would Daniel still want me?

He shushed me, rubbed the back of my neck, and rocked me. I looked at his face, filled with his love and compassion for me, and I had to believe that he would always want me. In one day, all of our dreams had been shattered, but we still had each other, and we would make it. My tears finally subsided and I began to accept what life had dealt us. It was going to take a very long time to heal from it, but Daniel and I would do it together.

A constant stream of nurses and doctors came and went over the next few of hours.

After the latest round of nurses left, Julia walked into the room, Patrick following close behind. Her voice was soft, always motherly. “Hey, beautiful girl.” She came near and leaned over me, kissing me ever so softly on my forehead. I loved her so much.

“How are you feeling?”

How was I feeling? I honestly didn’t know. I smiled weakly and didn’t answer because I couldn’t. Anything I said would have been a lie.

“Can we get anything for you?” Patrick had the same concerned look on his face as he always did, radiating kindness.

“Um, no. But thanks, Patrick.” I smiled at him and reached for his hand, and Julia placed hers over both of ours.

“Did...did you get to meet her?” I hoped they did. I looked at their broken faces and my heart broke a little more. The loss of Eva wasn’t just Daniel’s and mine; it was also theirs. They’d lost their granddaughter, the one they’d planned for, taken care of, loved.

Julia whimpered, her eyes bloodshot and her forehead wrinkled with lines that had never been there before. “Oh, Melanie, honey. She was so beautiful, just like you. She had your mouth.” Through tears she told me everything she remembered about Eva. It was heartbreaking and wonderful at the same time. I wanted to know my daughter. But somehow I already did. Even though I had never seen her face, I felt her, knew her soul, and it would always be a part of me. Patrick stood in silence behind Daniel, his face weary, but his love and support unwavering.

When the door creaked open, we all turned to see a flash of brown, frizzy hair.

Mom.

Chapter Twelve

March 2000

Mom was here. Of course she was. Guilt overcame me. This was how my parents found out about Eva. Slow and hesitant, Mom walked into the room. Black, heavy bags drooped under brown eyes so red, it was hard to tell their normal color. She had always been thin, but her cheeks were sunken in, the skin sagging. Her hair was up in a messy bun, pieces falling out and sticking to her face where her tears had dried. For the first time, she looked old. She stood at the foot of my bed, nervously straightening her shirt against her stomach.

“Mom,” I breathed out, not having a clue what to say to her. Anxiously, I glanced at Daniel, trying to gauge his reaction to her. He was already standing to kiss me on the forehead, and he and his parents excused themselves. When they reached the door, Daniel mouthed, “I love you,” before following his parents out. Mom still fidgeted, standing in the same spot.

“Mom?” I asked. Would she even talk to me? She had to be so disappointed—so angry.

“Oh, Melanie,” Mom cried, rushing around to take my cheeks in her hands.

“Mom, I’m so sorry.” I cried into her shoulder, hugging her to me as we grieved for Eva and for the wall we’d unknowingly built between us.

“It’s okay.” She shushed me and swept my hair behind my ear. “We have a lot to deal with, but we’ll do that later, okay? Right now, I just want you to get better.”

“Mom...I” I needed to explain everything to her now, to tell her why I’d been scared to let her know, but the door opened.

Dad.

My stomach twisted in knots when I saw his face. Lax, deceptively void of emotion, he looked as if he felt nothing, though he couldn’t hide the disgust he felt for me. My voice trembled, shaky and barely audible as I called to him across the room, “Dad?” My voice implored him to talk to me. He shook his head and looked down, leaving the room without saying a word. It was exactly as I had feared. He would never forgive me for this. I could only imagine the way he had treated Daniel. Mom narrowed her eyes as she watched him leave, turning back to me with a tight smile.

“Don’t let him bother you, sweetheart.”

“I knew he was going to be so disappointed.” Looking at the empty spot my father had just taken up, I couldn’t help but wish I’d listened to Daniel when he’d insisted we tell him. “I’m not ashamed, Mom.” I looked at her, needing her to understand I would never regret Eva.

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” She patted my arm to soothe my nerves from the non-confrontation with my dad.

“Did you get here in time?”

A wistful smile lit her face.

“She was so beautiful.” Mom seemed to be lost in her thoughts before she spoke again. “You’re so young.” I started to protest, but she stopped me, shaking her head. “No, let me say this. You’re young, but you don’t love as if you are.” She swallowed. “You would have been the best mom.” She wiped her tears with the back of her hand, sighing as she looked away. “I just wanted you to know that I truly believe that, for whatever it’s worth.”

It was worth everything.

With a subdued knock, Daniel peeked in the door.

I smiled and he came into the room and sat across from Mom. The tension between them was palpable. It was clear that the forgiveness she had shown me had not been extended to Daniel.

I knew my parents would see it as if Daniel had taken advantage of their little girl. It sickened me that anyone could even begin to think of him that way, but I had to be patient. Eventually they would realize how much he really did care about me. Time would just have to prove that.

The rest of the evening people filtered in and out. Nurses came and went, Mom left to get coffee at least ten times, and Erin and Julia ran back and forth to get people whatever they needed. Patrick continually checked to be sure I was being well taken care of while Dad stared at me from across the room.

And Daniel—he never left my side.

He was so exhausted, yet he stayed. I could never love him more than I did right then.

When night fell, everybody left but Daniel, who attempted to sleep in the chair beside my bed. I asked him to go with his parents and get a good night’s sleep. Of course, he refused. We both slept restlessly. How people ever expected to “rest and get well” in a hospital, I’d never know. Nurses came in and out at least five times during the night, poking and prodding me. I was convinced if they’d just let me sleep, I’d be well in half the time. Daniel and I gave up when the first rays of light came through the window. Neither of us felt any better than we had the night before.

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