Page 62 of Salvaged Heart
“911, what is your emergency?”
29
BECKHAM
The doctors said that Anders would recover physically. The Narcan prescription Dr. Nicolas forced me to take, and I’d almost not filled, was the difference between him dying in my arms and him lying unconscious in the hospital bed in front of me. Wires and cords ran over his body, hooking him to various beeping machines. To think I'd almost thrown that prescription in the trash, so sure that he wouldn’t relapse, so confident that I could be enough to see him out the other side of this and keep him strong.
What if I hadn’t had that momentary slip of faith that had caused me to fill it? He would be dead.
I had to push those thoughts away. What ifs would get me nowhere when the truth of the matter was that I’d saved him, and he was alive right now because I’d been able to act quicker than waiting for the paramedics.
He wouldn’t have overdosed if you’d thrown the shit away in the first place.
He wouldn’t have used if you hadn’t left him standing in the kitchen to chase after your ex-girlfriend.
I dug my fingers into my scalp, hoping the temporary pain would silence the suffocating thoughts. I’d feel better once I spoke to him, once I could hold him in my arms. I'd never let him go again.
Anders had woken only once since being admitted to hospital two nights ago, but I hadn’t been here. The staff were being fussy about non-family members visiting outside of hours, and I’d been forced to haunt the hospital’s lobby from dusk until dawn each day. However, Laurel and Margery, who'd arrived from Colorado the following morning, had been by his side. They were probably the last faces he'd expected to see when he woke up, but Laurel said they’d been able to clear some of the tension between them during the short time he was awake.
She’d looked at her feet nervously when I’d inquired if Anders asked about me. She sighed, “He was pretty out of it, Beck. I don’t think he fully knew where he was or what was happening.”
So no, then,he hadn’t.
“He asked for Jonah again, but I think he was confused.”
Fucking Jonah.
He was in this mess because of him.
No, they were both in this mess because of each other, the key difference being that this mess killed Jonah while Anders still clung to life by the tips of his fingers.
Anders hadn’t thought he was enough. It was me who made him feel that way. I’d ensure he would never doubt his worth again when he woke. As if he had heard my thoughts, the sheets on the hospital bed rustled, and I lifted my head to see his hazel eyes open, looking back at me.
“Hey.” He smiled, and it broke my heart clean in two.
I rushed to his side, grabbing the water jug from the bedside table and pouring a large glass, which he downed quickly before I refilled it for him. He looked around the room like he wastaking it in for the first time. I saw the moment recognition of what happened hit his face, the little life in it draining away.
“Beck…Shit…I’m…”
He didn’t owe me an apology. I was the only one in this room with a debt to pay.
“Shhh… It’s okay. I’m just so fucking relieved you’re alright.”
He reached for my hand, which clasped as I tried to reduce the space between us as much as possible. I didn’t have all the words I needed to tell him about how I felt at that moment. I wasn’t sure my brain could comprehend the onslaught of emotions barreling through me.
He was awake. He would be alright. He was smiling at me.
“I thought we’d lost you.”
He didn’t answer, his throat likely raw from being intubated briefly when they brought him in, but he looked at me like I was his entire world, and I looked back at him like he was mine.
“Laurel and Margery are here somewhere.” Our faces were now inches apart, drawn to each other like magnets. The hand that wasn’t clutching his for dear life came up to sweep some of his hair out of his eyes. “You spoke to them yesterday, but I’m not sure if you remember.”
He nodded.
“Laurel’s sorry for what she said. She had no idea what you were going through.”
He indicated to his throat, and I knew without the words what he was trying to tell me. Later, later we would talk, but right now, he was still too weak and in too much pain. I placed a kiss on his forehead, lingering there for a while to breathe him in before pulling away. He scooted over as much as he could, and I crawled onto the bed next to him, burying my face into his shoulder, and, for the first time in a long time, I let silent tears fall.
