Page 101 of Fight for Me
I close my eyes and decide to talk to the only person who might be listening.
“Mom, please, if you’re up there, don’t let me lose her. I know my path. I’m ready to take my second shot, but I need your help. I need her, and I can’t do this alone. Please, let me have another chance. I swear if you can just … give me this, I’ll make you proud again. I’ll stop running and be the man you’ve always believed I could be.”
I stay on my knees in that chapel for a long while, letting the despair wash over me and then letting it go. I have to be strong for Sydney.
After another second, I rise and head out into the hall. If she’s going to go through this, I’m going to be by her side the entire time. And whenever she opens her eyes, I’ll be there. If anything happens, I’ll be the one who sees it.
There’s no other option.
As I get through the doors to ICU, I see people running toward Sydney’s room. There are doctors, nurses, and a team of people going in and out. I start to move faster, my heart racing and throat dry.
Please God, no.
No, don’t let this be happening.
Then I see Jane, her tears are falling, head shaking back and forth as she clutches her mouth.
My world ends as I pull her into my arms, hoping for a miracle but knowing I’ve just lost her.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Sydney
People are everywhere, rushing around, and I can’t focus on anything. It’s as though I’ve been dreaming and have no idea how long I’ve been asleep.
I close my eyes again, trying to get my bearings. I know I’m in a hospital. There’s a constant beeping of machines while nurses rush around me, and wires pulling at my arms. Not to mention, it smells like a hospital. A bit of antiseptic cleaner and rubber.
“Sydney?” A deep male voice calls.
I look to him and he smiles softly. “Yes.”
The doctor lifts a light and shines it in my eyes while asking me a question. “Do you know where you are?”
“The hospital,” I croak. My throat feels like I’ve swallowed knives. It’s raw and scratchy and so dry.
“That’s right.” He continues to check me over, moving my body, squeezing my hands. “Can you squeeze back.”
I do, and he nods approvingly. “Good. Do you remember me?”
Do I? I think I do. I know he’s a doctor, and he looks familiar, but I am so tired and groggy. It’s as though I’m in a fog. I can see things, but nothing is clear. Everything feels distant and hazy. “I just ... I can’t remember.”
He nods. “That’s normal.”
Normal? Normal for what? I don’t know what’s happening to me or my baby.
The baby.
Oh God.
My hand flies to my stomach as I scramble to remember what happened.
“The baby is fine.” The doctor puts his hand on mine. “We’ve been monitoring him while you’ve been in a coma.”
I’ve been in a coma?
“What? How long? My sister?” I barely get the words past my lips because my throat screams out in pain again.
I try to recall something about what happened. I remember going in for the surgery, and that’s it. I don’t … understand what’s happening. I don’t feel like time has passed, but then again, I have no idea what day it is.
