Page 55 of Wake Me Up
“Yeah,” I whisper, dragging my hand up and down his leg. “It may sound ignorant, but I never thought about that. I never thought about the injuries and all the repetition of the same movements.” I lean forward, pressing a kiss to his chest. “I’m sorry that you’re going through it. It can’t be easy.”
“No big deal. Lot of worse things going on in the world than my problems.” He shakes my words off—just like I knew he would. He reaches forward, rubbing his fingers on my chin. “You know what would make it better?”
“What?” I eye him over skeptically.
“If you sat on my face.” He winks.
Smacking his stomach, I grab the remote and push play.Fool’s Goldstarts to play again, and I settle back, nuzzling into Tripp’s side.
For a man who is the best listener, he certainly doesn’t like to talk about himself.
Ipace in front of the window in the waiting room, unable to sit still because I fear the panic may catch up with me and I’ll be unable to calm down. I didn’t want the boys to be here in case there were any complications and things took longer than they were supposed to during Aviana’s surgery, so instead of traveling to Boston, they stayed back in Portland with my in-laws, and my parents traveled down with us last night.
Tripp has messaged and called numerous times, and I can sense he wants to be here for me while also not stepping in where he shouldn’t be. Truthfully, if he hadn’t had a game halfway across the country last night, I’m not sure anything would have stopped him from being here with us.
“It’s been too long since someone has been out with an update,” I say quickly, stopping pacing and thrusting my hands into my hair. “Something isn’t right. Why is no one keeping us in the loop?”
My mom stands up, walking straight toward me and putting her arms out.
“They said they’ll update once they have anything new to share, baby.” Her voice is calm, but it doesn’t help me at all. “Everything is okay, Freya. Take a breath, okay?”
“I don’t …” Tears spring into my eyes. “I can’t. I can’t breathe.”
I do exactly what I said I wasn’t going to do. I begin to panic. It doesn’t matter that I’ve been told over and over that my daughter is in great hands or that my parents keep reassuring me everything is fine. The fact is, my baby is on a table in the operating room with her brain being worked on, and I’m out here, unable to do a damn thing about it.
I’m supposed to be strong for my kids, but right now, it’s so hard. Ever since Jamie died, I’ve needed to be in control of every situation—that way, I could be sure nothing bad happened again. But in this moment, I’m not in control. I can’t be.
And it’s making me go manic.
I plop down on the floor against the wall, putting my face in my hands, and I cry. My shoulders shake, and I can’t stop them.
My mother doesn’t sit down next to me, and I’m glad. I love her so much, and I couldn’t do this right now if my parents weren’t here, but in this moment, I don’t want anyone to touch me. She wants to help—she really does—but I’m on edge. In other words … I’m sort of a bitch right now because I’m uneasy.
When I hear the sound of feet stopping in front of me and a body kneeling down, I know I spoke too soon, and my mom is going to try her best to comfort me. She’ll probably ask me what she can do to help, and I’ll have to say the same thing I have numerous times.
Nothing. Nothing is going to help unless she has a way to show me the future, when Aviana is fine and healthy, letting me know the surgery was successful. But she can’t do that, so right now, I just need to be left alone.
“Don’t cry, darlin,” Tripp rasps in front of me. “She’s a tough one. She’s gonna be just fine.”
His voice only makes me cry harder, but it’s not because I’m sad to see him, but because out of nowhere, I feel a sense of comfort. Gradually, I lower my hands down and pick my head up, taking in the sight of Tripp kneeling before me. His eyes are so soft as they burrow into mine.
“You came?” I whisper, my lip quivering uncontrollably.
I know he wanted to be here, but I didn’t think he’d actually be able to come, and I wouldn’t have blamed him. He has responsibilities that keep him preoccupied, and I understand that.
“Nothing would have kept me away,” he says softly, cupping my cheek with his palm. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be here sooner.”
Shifting on his feet, he sits down on the floor beside me and pulls me against his side. I don’t know why it’s different with him than it was with my parents when they tried to help me, but I feel a rush of comfort as I bury my face in his soft hoodie. More tears fall from my eyes. My body trembles because I’ve never been this scared in my life.
He squeezes me tightly against him, almost causing a suppressing sensation throughout my body. Kissing the top of my head, he nuzzles his nose against my hair. “It’s going to be okay, Freya. She’s tough,” he murmurs gently. “Just breathe for me, baby. Breathe.”
My mind doesn’t settle down, and breathing doesn’t become that mucheasier. But my shaking subsides a bit, and I force myself to inhale Tripp and let his soothing smell and strong touch calm me as best as he can.
He’s here. He showed up, not just for me … but for Aviana too.
I stare at my daughter, holding on to her hand with a steady stream of tears rolling down my cheeks. The surgery is over. They believe it went great, but now … she needs to wake up. The doctor said it could be minutes, hours, or even days. So far, it’s been a little over three hours, and though I’m trying to be patient, I need her to open her eyes up and tell me she’s okay.
Because of the hospital’s protocols, I’m the only one allowed in with her for now. But I’ve done my best to call and text the family to keep them in the loop.
