Page 117 of Rainstorm

It’s always hard to take that first difficult step, and right now it’s taking all my courage to enter that room and see Chase after his surgery.

The nurse ushers me in, but I freeze at the sight of him lying there all bandaged up, his unconscious body hooked up to so many different tubes and wires, so I stand there like a salt statue.

“It’s okay, he’s doing fine,” the nurse whispers encouragingly, as she gives a gentle nudge forward.

She’s a young Latina with a very sweet face and a kind voice.

“I’ve been monitoring your husband since he came out of surgery, and I can tell you that there are no signs of fever and his vital signs are stable.

“But that doesn’t guarantee anything,” I murmur, and of course I can’t help worrying about what Chase’s life will be like if the operation hasn’t been a success. What if things haven’t gone his way?

“No, you’re quite right, Mrs. Holland, I’m afraid there are no guarantees,” she says quietly. “But such is life, don’t you think?”

She smiles and squeezes my arm reassuringly, then points at the chair beside the bed before leaving to give me some privacy with the man who is still my husband.

Chase looks peaceful, despite all the equipment he’s wired up to, and his face appears serene, which I hope means that he’s not in pain.

I slump down on the chair and reach over to squeeze his hand, relishing how warm he feels as it proves that he’s alive, he’s still with us and has hopefully been given a second chance at life.

I start the speech I’ve rehearsed in my head a thousand times, spilling my guts as I tell him how much I hate him, but also how much I love him. How I forgive him. I tell him the truth.

The whole truth, in all its shades of light and dark.

That this is a battle we each have to work out on our own.

That this is no longer about fighting against each other.

Chase will need to find his way forward, just as I will. He’ll need to focus on himself, on his recovery.

But I’ve realized that for far too long, I’ve allowed myself to live in the shade, and now I need to focus on finding myself, but I can’t do that if I allow myself to get swallowed up in our marriage and all the issues involved. So I have to be brave, spread my wings and fly on my own. We started the journey with the wind in our favor and now I must take advantage.

“You’ve got this, my love. You’ve got this. It’s going to work out fine for both of us, you’ll see.” I take out the documents I’ve brought with me, the letter I have written to him, and carefully leave everything on the nightstand by his bed.

He’ll read them soon enough.

I get up feeling renewed, as I relinquish the weight of the past.

I stand up and walk out of the hospital, without a backwards glance.

I have to look forward now, not back.

This is the first day of my new life.

One that begins right now.

???

“You’re driving me crazy, you know that?” Ariel tells me.

I can’t settle, I’m too restless, I’ve been pacing round the apartment because I’m so uptight. It should be just a normal Saturday. We’ve had our lunch, plus one of Ariel’s ‘special’ brownies, which even though I watched her make them, I still suspect she may have added some Mary Jane to the mix to get me to relax and calm down. My friend is mad enough to resort to feeding me weed because she knows how wound up I am.

“Roselynn, will you stay still! Otherwise a couple of things could happen and you’re not going to like either of them. Either I’m going to throw up or you’re going to wear out the carpet. Calm the fuck down!”

That’s easy for her to say, and if I had X-men superpowers, I would smite my friend with my laser eyes. She knows why I’m like this.

Today is a very important day.

Today is The Day.

---