Page 78 of A Chance at Forever
When they returned to the stable, Rusty reached for Victoria and her body slid down the length of his. Holding her in his arms, he kissed her with a desperate urgency. “Lord, I love you, Tori. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
She caressed his face. “I love you, too. And I’m not going anywhere. I’m yours. Forever.”
*
Committed in theirdeep love for each other after spending the holidays together, Rusty and Victoria returned to Marysville on January third. They discussed moving in together but decided against it. Neither wanted to give the gossips fodder to chew upon. Since they didn’t have any obligations after school, they met for breakfast every morning and drove to work together.
First semester ended in the middle of January, and they settled into a comfortable routine during the next three weeks. After school they tended to personal business and met for dinner around six. Rusty helped Victoria clean the kitchen, then they retired to the library where they shared quiet conversation and graded papers for their classes. Often they made love before Rusty headed next door. More and more his thoughts turned toward marriage, and he began planning his proposal.
It never happened.
In the middle of the night at the end of January, his body succumbed to another vicious attack.
*
Victoria glanced ather watch and wondered why Rusty hadn’t shown up for breakfast or called or texted to let her know he was running late. Then the reason hit her, and she ran next door. She let out a cry of dismay when she found Rusty unconscious at the bottom of the stairs. Fear knotted her stomach as she knelt next to him. Again, he burned with an inexplicably high fever. She didn’t hesitate to call 911, then contacted Jonica, who promised to let the administration know what was happening so substitutes could be arranged.
EMTs burst through the front door within five minutes. Victoria explained the circumstances as they checked Rusty’s vitals.
“Temperature 105.6. Rapid pulse, BP 140 over 110. Breathing is labored,” a paramedic voiced into the walkie clipped to his uniform.
Victoria stood by and watched as they loaded Rusty onto a rolling gurney and proceeded out the door.
“You can ride with him,” one EMT offered.
On the way to Marysville General Hospital, Rusty went into convulsions. The EMTs stabilized him, and when they pulled into the ambulance bay, Dr. Morrison rushed forward to meet them. He glanced at Victoria before he shouted, “Get this man into ICU stat!”
Victoria ran alongside them, and as they reached an elevator, Rusty regained consciousness long enough to whisper, “Call Dr. Alex Reinhardt. University of Colorado Medical Center. He knows what to do.”
When Rusty disappeared from sight, Victoria dropped into a chair in the ICU waiting room. Tears streamed down her face. “Why is this happening? Why to him?” Needing the comfort of a friend, she called Mia.
“I’m on my way,” Mia declared.
Fifteen minutes later the friends embraced and sat down.
“What happened?” Mia handed Victoria a tissue.
“He didn’t show up this morning, so I went next door and found him huddled unconscious at the foot of the stairs. I don’t understand what’s going on with him. Rusty keeps having these bouts of illness, and right before Christmas he had pneumonia. Has he ever been sick like this before?”
“Not that I can remember. Football season always takes a lot out of him. His resistance is weak.”
“That’s what he said.” Victoria shook her head. She still had doubts.
Two hours passed before Dr. Morrison entered the small waiting area. He ran a weary hand through his wavy brown hair. Victoria and Mia jumped to their feet. “How’s Rusty?”
“He’s stable. His fever has gone down a few degrees, and we’re expecting it to drop even further in the next hour. It’s best if he stays in the ICU for now, so we can monitor his condition.”
“What’s wrong with him?”
“Mr. Sinclair has…double pneumonia.”
Dr. Morrison hedged, and Victoria knew it. “I see. May I visit Rusty now?”
“Only for a few minutes. And don’t be alarmed. He’s in an oxygen tent.”
Despite the doctor’s warning, Victoria wasn’t prepared for the sight of her beloved Rusty lying so deathly still beneath the oxygen tent. Her breath caught in her throat, and her tears flowed anew. Isolated from her, she couldn’t even touch his hand for reassurance.
“Rusty!” she cried. Her heart ached. “I’m here. I’m here, my darling.”
