Page 1 of Sweet Escape
Prologue
Wilder
?In The Stars - Benson Boone
Two Years Ago
An incessant beepingsound fills the silence of the sterile hospital room, accompanied by the oppressive whooshing of the ventilator that’s keeping Jess alive long enough to donate her organs. That’s my wife—selfless even in death.
The stark white walls close in on me as I try to make sense of everything that’s happened.
I still can’t believe she’s gone.
I slide my chair closer to the hospital bed where she’s lying lifeless, with various tubes and wires connected to her broken body. My wife, the mother of my child, and my best friend. She’s barely recognizable now, her face battered and bruised from the impact of the accident. I close my eyes, remembering her as she was before she walked out into the night and never returned.
“I’m so sorry, Jess. It should’ve been me.” My voice islittle more than a broken whisper, a well of sadness sitting heavy in my chest. I haven’t let myself break yet. I need to be strong for Emmy, our barely six-month-old baby girl, who is now motherless.
Jess’s hand is cold beneath my palm; a woman once so warm and vibrant is fading away right before my eyes. I know she’s no longer with me, but I continue to speak to her all the same, hoping there’s some universe in which she’ll hear me. “I promise I’ll take good care of Emmy. I’ll make sure she knows how much her mama loves—loved—her.”
A lone tear falls against our joined hands, and I keep waiting for that moment in the movies where the patient miraculously wakes up. It never comes—no twitch of the finger or fluttering eyelashes.
A hand clamps down on my shoulder, and Doctor Finch’s all-too-familiar voice says, “It’s time, son.”
Everything else happens in a haze as they prepare us for her honor walk, but I can hardly breathe through the pain of losing the only woman I’ve ever loved. Whatever arbitrary thing is about to take place means little to me if it won't bring her back.
The faint hum of My Girl by the Temptations plays through the speakers. I can still picture Jess dancing in the kitchen with Emmy in her arms, her bright smile lighting up the room like she always did. I try to hold on to that memory while it lasts. Everything else is slipping through my fingers. No more late-night snacks or goodnight kisses. No more morning coffee or midday check-ins. No more laughter. No more I love yous.
I should take comfort in the knowledge that she’s going to be saving lives like she always wanted. Nursing was her calling, and it would make her happy to know her heart will still beat for someone else. Not for me, though. Never for me.
The long hallway is lined with hospital staff aswe get into position behind the doctors on either side of her bed. The donor team trails close behind, waiting to collect what’s left of the woman I love—loved. My sister, Ruby, clings to my hand as I cradle Emmy Lou against my chest while Jess’s mom walks hand in hand with mine at the head of the bed. Dad stands sentinel behind me, a steadying presence amidst the sorrow.
Nobody speaks, and I keep my gaze locked on the top of Emmy’s head as she sleeps peacefully in my arms. Her blonde hair peeks out beneath one of the oversized bows Jess insisted on buying for her. She was so excited when she found out we were having a girl. How am I supposed to do this on my own? How am I supposed to be enough for her? She needs her mom. I need her mom.
The walk lasts only a few minutes, but it feels like an eternity with nothing but pain waiting for me at the end. I’m not ready to say goodbye. Several of Jess’s close friends and fellow NICU nurses cling to each other, silent tears tracking down their cheeks as we pass.
Once we reach the end of the line, I hold Emmy near Jess’s face, cheek-to-cheek, and kiss her forehead for the last time. I murmur one final broken, “I love you.”
The hospital bed is pulled through two massive doors with the retrieval team. I’m clinging to what’s left of my sanity as the doors close on the best chapter of my life. I don’t dare fall apart. I have to be strong for my daughter.
A numb feeling settles over me as I return home to an empty house near the mountains. How do I carry on when the one person who knew me better than anyone else in the world isn’t here anymore? Our home still smells like her. Everything is exactly as she left it.
I trail down the dark hallway toward our bedroom, stopping short of her side of the bed with the blankets still rumpled. There’s a dip in the pillow where her head once rested. Her worn paperback is still open, face down on thenightstand with her reading glasses on top, just waiting for her to return and pick up where she left off. How are we supposed to carry on like nothing happened?
With one last glance, I turn and stride back to the nursery, settling in Mama’s old rocking chair with a sleeping Emmy on my chest. I can almost hear her voice telling me we’ll be okay, and that has to be enough. I’m on my own now. My daughter needs me.
“We’ll be okay, Emmy Lou.”
Chapter 1
At First Flight
?Starting Over - Chris Stapleton
Two Years Later
Wilder
Deep breath in,long breath out.
