The nurses, on all the shifts, adopted her because she was around so much. And they weren’t shy about giving her advice, either, or commenting on how haggard she looked. Every day, they urged her to go home and get a good night’s sleep, not just a nap. When she refused, one of the night nurses found her an empty cot in a storeroom and allowed her to sleep there, even though it was against hospital rules.
Her father’s condition remained much the same as when he’d been admitted. He slipped in and out of consciousness, barely aware of her presence and dependent on the machines to keep his body functioning. Juan called often and tried to reassure her, as did Dr. Davenport. They both tried to tell her that Miguel was doing as well as could be expected, considering the severe trauma his body had suffered. They needed to wait until he regained full consciousness and then decide on the next step.
But the waiting with little or nothing to do wore on her. She plugged in her laptop and tried to do research or study for the finals she’d missed, but she couldn’t concentrate. Each day that passed felt like another weight on her shoulders, piling up and up, with no end in sight. If her father didn’t turn the corner soon, would he recover?
She could survive the endless hours with nothing to do, the tasteless food, the cramped cot, even the lack of personal hygiene, if she only knew one simple thing: that her father would get better.
She dropped into one of the plastic chairs and covered her face with her hands. If she had to look at these walls any longer, she would scream. She’d memorized each pit and stain on them. And staring at these same unchanging walls, day in and day out, had given her more time to worry. After the second week passed, she found herself wishing she could go home and rest, if only to blank out her mind for a time and escape the constant worrying.
But she couldn’t leave.
If her father regained consciousness while she was gone, she would never forgive herself for abandoning him to strangers. And in the back of her mind another, even stronger, motivation took root. It was a fear, almost a superstition, and she wasn’t proud of it, but she couldn’t dismiss it totally, either.
Since her mother had died, she hadn’t attended church regularly. Her father and brother had only attended when her mother was living. Could God be punishing their family?
Daily prayers in the hospital chapel and constant vigilance at her father’s bedside became a form of penance for Adriana, along with silent pleas to God. And she found a measure of peace when she prayed in the chapel, reconnecting with a power stronger and more forgiving than herself, a return to the simple beliefs of her childhood.
But her strongest memories of church and religion were inextricably linked with her mother, with the sharing of faith with another human being. People were flesh and blood as well as spirit. She needed the solace of another person, someone to touch her and reassure her when she despaired.
She lowered her hands from her face and put her right hand in her skirt pocket. She stroked the plastic frog secreted there for a few minutes, thinking of her mother. Walled alive in the hospital with a sick father who didn’t know she was there, and a staff of strangers, she felt as abandoned as a castaway on a desert island. Desperation and loneliness were her constant companions and with time weighing heavily on her, she began to examine her life.
Why was she so alone, with no one to call upon in a time of crisis? She had one brother, but he couldn’t leave his job. And she had other relatives, but they were all far away, living either in Puerto Rico or Spain.
Juan must have contacted her mother’s relatives in Puerto Rico, because they had sent cards. She was secretly ashamed that she hadn’t made the effort, though she had plenty of time on her hands. But she wasn’t accustomed to corresponding with her mother’s relatives, except for obligatory Christmas cards. And she couldn’t expect them to fly to Las Vegas and take up the vigil alongside her.
Her father had acquaintances and business associates in town. His firm had sent flowers, and several of his staff had dropped by for very short visits. A few of her fellow graduate students and coworkers had visited during the first few days, too. But none of these people were what she would call friends. She didn’t even have a close girlfriend.
There was no one she could turn to, no one to help her, no one to comfort her and listen to her fears. Stunned, she came to the frightening realization of how alone in the world she was. And her loneliness only heightened the fear of losing her father.
But she’d made this particular bed for herself, and now she must lie in it, as her mother would have said. If she didn’t have friends, it was no one’s fault but her own. She’d never taken the time to cultivate relationships because she’d been too busy proving herself a dutiful daughter, too busy following her father’s dictates.
When her mother died, Adriana’s world had collapsed. She’d been very close to her mother, who had lavished unconditional love on her. But when she’d turned to her father to fill the void, she’d learned he was different. His love wasn’t something to be freely given. It was a precious commodity that you earned.
She knew about her father’s failure and subsequent sacrifices for his family, and she’d tried to please him, needing his acceptance and love. But no matter what she did, it had never been enough. With every prize she’d laid at his feet, he’d urged her to climb higher, try harder.
That was when the seed of doubt had begun to grow. She’d begun to believe that his life had been ruined, cut short, because he’d put aside his ambitions to support his family, and that he resented his family because he’d never realized his dream.
She hadn’t wanted to repeat his mistakes, so she’d embraced his view of the world, believed that success was the only important thing and that people and relationships weren’t worth the trouble.
By not needing people, she’d isolated herself, just as her father had, isolated herself to the point of nothingness. Now there was no one. No one she could turn to, no one to help, and no one who could understand the pain she was going through.
Except.
Rafael haunted her. She remembered his warm, brown eyes and the way he laughed. She recalled the touch of his fingertips brushing her face, and the way he ran his fingers through his hair when he was nervous. Every hour of every day since her father had been admitted, she’d fought the images of him that her mind conjured, fought and struggled with them like demons that needed to be exorcised.
She couldn’t ask him to help her—it wouldn’t be fair, not when she knew the way he felt about her and when she’d already rejected him. But his final words wouldn’t go away, no matter how hard she prayed, no matter how hard she tried to blot them out.
I just want you to know, always know, that you’re loved. And if you should ever need my help, I’ll always be here for you.”
A sob rose to her throat, and her eyes burned with unshed tears. She covered her face with her hands again, not wanting anyone to see her distress. How could she have walked away from him? How could she have thrown away his love?
Love and loving were the most important things in the world—not success, not ambition, and certainly not making money. Without love, nothing else mattered.
She rose to her feet and wiped the tears from her eyes and assured the night nurse that she would return within the hour.
#
The drive to Rafael’s townhouse seemed to take forever, but that wasn’t surprising. Cloistered within the walls of the hospital for so long, Adriana had lost track of time.
Glancing at the very functional and imminently practical digital watch on her wrist, a gift from her father for her last birthday, she read the lighted dial. It was the sixth of June. She breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn’t bothered with times or dates when she’d hurried from the hospital, and she was in her car before she realized Rafael might not have moved to Las Vegas yet, but he’d said he’d be here by the first of June.
Now she prayed that he’d be at home. Glancing at her watch again, she saw it was almost three in the morning. He must be home at this time of night.
She’d managed to get lost, though she thought she remembered where the townhouse was. Wandering around the southeast side of Las Vegas, she cursed herself for not having paid closer attention.
Then she saw it, the stucco and tile-roofed townhouse she remembered. She glimpsed a pile of neatly stacked moving boxes outside with the garbage and knew this had to be his place. She turned her car into the driveway and shut off the engine. She sat there for a few moments in the dark, filled with trepidation, wondering how he would receive her.
She shut her eyes, and allowed herself to remember how he was: his gentleness, his caring, and his understanding. How could she doubt him? Her eyes flew open.
She wrenched open the car door and sprinted to the townhouse’s entrance. Pounding on the door, she called out to him, sobbing his name over and over.
Chapter Ten
Rafael struggled to pull on his pants. He glanced at the clock on his nightstand and saw that it was after three in the morning. Who would be pounding on his door at this hour? Hell, he didn’t even know anyone in Vegas yet.
When he threw open the front door, Adriana fell into his arms, sobbing and clinging to him. He was stunned, but it was one of the nicest surprises he’d had in a long time. His arms tightened around her, and he held her close, stroking her hair and murmuring soothing words. He didn’t know what he was comforting her about but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was she’d come to him.
After a few minutes, her tears subsided into hiccoughs, and then she quieted. He wanted to know what was wrong, but he could be patient. Holding her in his arms wasn’t exactly a sacrifice.
He’d missed her. And he’d thought about her all the time. When he’d moved to Vegas, he kept thinking he saw her everywhere: walking across campus, driving along the Strip, steering a grocery cart at the local A&P. But to find her on his doorstep in the middle of the night was beyond his wildest dreams.
She lifted her head, and he feathered a kiss of greeting across her mouth. Her lips opened beneath his, and she responded eagerly to his kiss. Holding her and kissing her again and having her kiss him back was his craziest fantasy come true.
What had happened? What had changed?
He had to know, so he broke their kiss and leaned back. He raised his hand and gently wiped away the tears on her cheeks.
“What’s wrong, Adriana? I’m happy to see you, but it’s kind of late for a social call. Not that I’m complaining,” he added quickly. “You’re welcome anytime but ...” He hesitated. “Why are you crying? What happened?” He took her arm. “Here, come into the living room and have a seat. Would you like some coffee?”
She perched on the edge of the sofa. “No, no coffee. But thanks for asking. And I’m sorry it’s so late. These past few weeks, day and night have kind of run together for me. I hope you don’t have to be up early tomorrow.”
“That’s okay. Tomorrow’s Saturday.”
He sat down beside her, having decided he could forego the coffee, too. When he put his arm around her, she nestled against him. He could scarcely believe it. This wasn’t the cool and distant Adriana he remembered, the woman with more barriers than a steeplechase race. But that was okay, he could definitely get used to the new Adriana.
She shook her head. “I didn’t even know what day it was.”
He kissed the top of her head. “What are you trying to tell me? Take your time.”
She took a deep breath and then she explained everything in a rush of words: her father’s heart attack and his fluctuating condition, her vigil at his bedside, all her fears and doubts and worries.
“I had a lot of time on my hands to think, Rafael. And I was so lonely. There was no one to help me.”
She gazed up at him and tentatively touched his lips with her fingertips. New tears shimmered at the corners of her eyes. He didn’t want to see her cry again. Bending his head, he kissed them away.
She pulled apart from him with a sigh. “You were right, Rafael. There’s not anything more important than family and having people who care about you. Without that we’re nothing.”
He was stunned by her change of heart. Had she really changed so much in such a short time? It was hard to believe but then she’d been through a life-changing event, almost losing her father. And it must have touched her to the core of her being. A tiny flame of hope flared in his heart. Hope that the change in Adriana was real and ... lasting.
She lifted her arms up and put them around his neck and kissed him. Her kiss seared his soul. When she pulled away, she said, “Thank you for caring about me. For being here. I have no one else.”
“You’ll always have me. You can’t get rid of me.”
She laughed. It was a tentative sound, but it carried a note of hope he was clinging to.
And despite the awful circumstances that had wrought this change in her, from a selfish perspective, he wanted to laugh right with her, whoop with jubilation, and howl at the moon with joy. He wanted to carry her off into his bedroom and make wild and abandoned love to her. And he wanted to go down on one knee and propose.
But now wasn’t the time, not with her father in the hospital in critical condition and Adriana worried about him. Now what she needed was someone to be there for her, someone she could lean on for comfort.
“Let’s go to the hospital,” he said.
Her indigo eyes widened. “You mean that? But you and my father—”
“That’s not important. What’s important is getting your father well.”
“Rafael, how can I ever thank you?”
“You don’t need to think me, Adriana. This is what people do when they care about each other.”
#
When Adriana looked at Rafael, sitting patiently beside her father’s bed, her heart swelled in her chest. Tears filled her eyes and burned at the back of her throat. Since the first time she’d seen her father in the ICU, she hadn’t cried. She’d clung to her outward composure—until tonight. But tonight she’d made up for weeks of not crying, knowing there was someone who could help her, who would stand by her. She’d broken down and allowed herself to vent all the pain and helplessness she’d been going through.