Page 40 of Cuts Like an Angel: Part 2

Chapter Twenty-One

William

"Fuck." His phone displayed a missed call from the hospital switchboard … and the time they had called ... 3:05 am. His stomach lurched with a cold thump to his gut as he sat on the bed and stared at the screen.

His hands shaking, he pressed to listen to the short answerphone message. "Hello, Mr Carter. If you could call us back on 602933. Thank you."

Punching in the number, every muscle inside screamed at him not to. Just put the phone down and go back to Rosie. He let his eyes close, his mind ready to take a leave of absence instead of facing whatever was waiting on the other end of the call. He waited a painful second for their phone to connect and then the ring.

"Hello. This is Mr Carter. You left a message for me to call.”

“Hi there. I am sorry to call you. My name is Giles Wilson. I am with the team caring for Maria Carter."

"Yes?" William added, cautiously, his heart already dropping into his boots. Maybe she was dead. They wouldn’t have called at such an early our if she wasn’t.

"Maria suffered a cerebrovascular accident in the early hours of the morning."

William raked his brains at the terminology while the word suffered made his heart hammer with dreadful excitement. He knew enough now with all the medical things he’d encountered with Maria. He could probably become an expert on it all. "A stroke?"

Rosie teetered at the door suddenly, concern pulling her brows together. William’s eyes locked with hers, the phone pressed to his ear.

"Yes.”

“Is she …” dead, his mind finished off.

“She is comfortable and awake,” the doctor assured him. “We have taken her for a scan."

"How bad is she?" Maybe he had caused this. His mind tried to slam him back to that night … that final night when he had lost it. He’d already done enough damage then. Maybe now she would be more disabled, more of a burden. He deserved that, though after what he had done.

Perhaps it would be better if she was dead. Then he could be free. As soon as he thought that, he smacked himself mentally. This wasn’t the way to think, but he couldn’t help it. Some part of him actually felt sadness that it wasn’t a call to say that she had passed away. What kind of person did that make him?

Rosie came to sit beside him, concern etched on her face as she grabbed his hand and sat so that her thigh was flush with his. He listened to the doctor, nodding as he explained everything and how it had only been mild. "She is stable, but it’s all on Maria now."

"We’ll be right there," he mumbled and hung up.

“We need to go to the hospital?” Rosie asked, gently.

“She’s had a stroke,” William said, tossing his phone to the side. “I need to go … we.” It was so hard. He hadn't been a ‘we’ before. It was an alien thing for him. “You can stay here if you want, but I don’t know how long I’ll be ... Maybe it is better that you stay here.”

“No. I want to come. Let me throw on some clothes okay?”

“Are you sure?”

She grabbed William’s face, cupping his cheeks in her hands, looking at him with those beautiful sweet eyes that made him safe. “William, I meant it yesterday. Everything I said. Anything you go through, I go through it with you. I’m here for the long ride.”

He pressed his forehead to hers, desperation pulling inside. He wanted to believe it. God, he so wanted to. “Do you promise?”

She tilted his head, faces still close together. “I promise with every part of me. Okay?”

Nodding, he let her hold him for a moment, selfishly taking in the comfort from her like the world could just evaporate around them and all he would need was her. I love you, Rosie. He wanted to say, but the words caught.

He slid his hand into hers, just as Rosie’s phone bleeped and startled them both. She ignored it again.

“Let’s get ready. Should we?” she asked, pushing away from William, taking her phone with her and placing it face down on the dresser.

“I only need to put my boots on,” he said, his mind fixating on her phone and what she could be hiding. He had far from forgotten it’s what had originally brought two great confessions from both of them. But she was still hiding something. “I’ll wait downstairs, if that’s okay? I just need to move, or walk or something.”

“Sure,” she gave him that smile … the Rosie smile. “I’ll be right behind you.”

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