Page 2 of Infinite
The fight leaves my body as I willingly allow the fog to take me. To hide me away from the truth waiting for me. As I drift off, I wonder if I can cry while I sleep because my entire life has shattered, and I don’t want to wake up.
* * *
Dreams are funny things. They can be both wonderful and devastating at the same time. I’m not sure what is true anymore or how many hours or days it’s been. I know that, at this point, even if I could open my eyes, I no longer want to.
When I’m sleeping, the world is right. I’m growing larger with the baby in my belly, safe and secure as only a mother could keep them. My hands rub the spot where I notice a kick as I lean back into Quinn’s arms.
We plan our life, build furniture for the nursery, and the ring on my left hand sparkles in the sunlight.
I was able to envision it all.
Quinn proposing to me is another of my favorite dreams. His proposal is one that you write songs about. He takes me to Central Park, and the sun is shining down on us, warming our faces even though there is a slight chill in the air. Quinn holds my hand until we reach one of my favorite bridges. The view is perfect as a family of ducks float in the water below. I can see the grass and a scattering of rocks on the far bank, but the true beauty is the bridge itself. It’s old and gray but the carvings are what make it amazing. They are subtle, and yet, they aren’t. I could stand here forever with his warmth against my back and his arms a cage of safety.
Quinn turns me around, his hands cradling my face as he kisses me softly. Then he drops to his knee and asks me to marry him.
Of course, I cry, saying yes over and over because he is my heart and he gave me the one thing I want most—our child.
His lips press to my belly, loving the baby we created before he slips the diamond onto my finger.
“Ashton,” my mother’s soft voice breaks through to my dreamscape. “I know you’re there and you’re scared. You have to open your eyes now, my sweet girl.”
I can hear the worry in her voice. I just want to stay here a little longer, though. It’s much better pretending that everything is as it should be.
I need to live in the lie. The lie is nice and inviting. It encompasses me like a butterfly’s wings, giving me shelter from the outside world. Feeling? Well, that’s too much pain for me, and I’ve had my fill.
Someone’s hand grips mine, the rough callouses make me wonder if it’s Quinn. “I need my fighter to come back.” Daddy’s deep timbre rings out.
It isn’t Quinn.
He’s the voice I’ve been waiting for. He’s who I need.
Where is he? Why isn’t Quinn here?
“I’m worried,” Mom says. “It’s been two days, and the doctor said she should’ve woken by now.”
My dad’s hand pushes my hair back, and I imagine the way he must be looking at me. When I was sad or hurt there was this kindness in his eyes. It was as though my pain was his and he was trying to absorb it for me.
“Ashton, my darling girl, open your eyes. We’re right here.”
I know it’s time to face reality, and I need to find out what is happening with Quinn. No longer does my body feel as though itcan’trespond, I just don’t want it to.
I’ve stayed like this, hoping that Quinn would be here or maybe they’d say something to let me know what’s causing his absence, but they don’t.
“Do you think she can hear us?” Mom asks.
“She can hear, she’s in there, and I’m hoping she’ll listen to her daddy and fight again.”
Mom’s voice is shaky. “I would take all the pain away if I could, my baby. We’re all here, we just need you to trust that it’ll be okay.”
I hear footsteps and then a chair scrape against the floor. “Is she awake yet?” Catherine’s voice rings through the room.
“No.”
“Would you guys give me a minute with her alone?”
Great. I’m not in the mood for anything that Catherine has to say. Let me sleep. That’s all I want.
A few minutes pass, and my bed depresses a second before she takes my hand in hers. “I know you can hear me. I’ve known it for about a day now, but I’ve let you keep yourself in shut-down mode. Even Dr. Madison said the medication has worn off and you’re holding back.” Her voice is soft, but I hear the edge of anger there. “I can’t begin to imagine whatever it is that you’re thinking and feeling. You’ve always been the tough one out of our trio, but right now, you don’t have to be, Ashy. You don’t have to stand tall or not cry. You do need to open your eyes, though. I need you to so that we can talk about this. So, open your eyes, biffle.”
