Finally they Fall was my entry for the Season of our Discontent Contest (Angst). I'm so honored and stunned to have gotten coldplaywhore's pick for this. Thank you!
Disclaimer:This story includes difficult/sensitive subject matter. Please read with caution.
There are no words to describe how grateful I am to the team of amazing women who helped me work through this story. Jennde, mycrookedsmile, kimpy0464, kikikinz, and mskathy preread and betad this story several times over. Thank you for helping me tell this story.
To my baby sister, catie22866, who preread and helped me remember all the details… We lived this together, and it still hurts. Every day. I love you.
Dad... this one's for you.
+FtF+
Bella paced back and forth in the living room, burning a trail of anger so deep she was sure the carpet would never be the same. He was late. Again. This time, by over an hour, and that meant they were going to be late for their dinner reservation. On their anniversary. On the day they'd picked for their fresh start.
Time had taken its toll on their marriage. Edward traveled often, and she had the boys to raise and a house to run. There wasn't an event or some big thing that had pulled them apart, but as the years passed things had stagnated between them. It would have been easy for them to blame each other, but they were both at fault, content to go with the status quo. With Marcus and Emmett finally off to college, she and Edward had both come to the realization one evening that they didn't have anything to talk about. They had become more like roommates than husband and wife, and after a weekend of tears, confessions, and vows to change, they picked their anniversary as the date for their fresh start.
He'd left their bed that morning full of whispered promises for their evening, and as she glanced at the clock on the wall, she forced herself to breathe.
She inhaled deeply, trying to calm herself down. She wanted to believe the weekend hadn't been a fluke. She wanted to believe he needed and wanted a new beginning with her, but his absence spoke volumes.
She heard a car pull into the driveway, and the anger that had been whirling around inside her propelled her to the door. With her arms crossed and breath huffing, she waited for him to walk through the door. The unexpected sound of the doorbell threw her for a loop.
Heknowshe'sintrouble.He'sprobablytryingtobefunny, she thought wryly.
"You're late," she said as she pulled open the door.
"Mrs. Masen?"
Bella paused, startled by the uniformed man standing on her doorstep. She took a step back, her fingers automatically moving to her throat.
"Yes?"
"Mrs. Masen, I'm Patrolman Stephen Jenks. May I come inside for a moment?" he asked, showing her his badge.
Her stomach twisted and dread instantly filled her mind. She looked past him, outside at the already darkening sky, and felt her breath catch as her mind raced.
"Um, yes. Of course."
She pushed the door open wider, her hands trembling and her heart pounding, and stepped aside so he could enter. He turned to face her, clearly looking for an indication of where he should go. She stared back at him, her head spinning with questions and nervous energy coursing through her body.
"Ma'am, I think it's best if we sit." He raised his hand and indicated she should take a seat on the sofa. She stared at him a beat longer then moved to sit.
"Mrs. Masen–"
"Bella," she said quickly, cutting him off. "Please call me Bella."
He paused and then nodded.
"Bella, your husband, Edward, was in a car accident. His injuries were life-threatening, so he was airlifted to Massachusetts General Hospital." He paused to allow the information to sink in.
Bella stared at him blankly.
"Mrs. Mas– Bella, did you hear what I said?"
She nodded mutely.
Edward was in an accident. He wasn't late on purpose.
"Ma'am, is there someone we can call for you? Someone who can come take you to Boston?"
"Is he okay? Alive?" Bella asked, her head still stuck on life-threatening.
"I'm sorry, ma'am. I'm not sure about his status, but we did find this in the car."
She gasped, recognizing the shiny, blue bag immediately. Xavier'sFineJewelers.
It was her favorite jewelry store, the place Edward had purchased every important piece of jewelry he'd given her in the years they'd been together.
Her hands trembled as she reached out and grabbed eyes filled with tears as she slowly opened the bag and pulled out the familiar blue velvet box. She lifted the lid and closed it, her eyes flitting around the house. She took a few, deep calming breaths and then lifted the lid again.
Nestled inside was a delicate platinum chain with a five-sided pendant. The platinum had a matte finish and five in-laid diamonds on each side.
Twenty-five years.
She felt her breathing pick up, her heart pounding, and every fiber inside her began to tingle. Fresh tears pricked at her eyes. He had gone to get her a gift… for their anniversary.
Gently, she lifted the necklace from the box, examining the delicate chain and pendant as they draped across her fingers. She longed to feel the cool metal against her skin, but it was Edward's gift to her. She closed her eyes and imagined the way Edward's face would look – happy, content, alive – when he finally gave it to her and knew it would be worth the wait.
"Mrs. Masen?" Patrolman Jenks asked, trying to make sure she was okay.
She looked at him blankly, blinking away tears. She felt like someone had shoved her head into a bucket of water. She couldn't breathe, couldn't process anything except her need to get out of there, to get to Edward, to make sure he was okay, to thank him, to apologize, to...
"Is there someone we can call?" he asked, a worried look marring his features as she stood up suddenly.
He needs me. God, please don't take him from me.
"I need to go. I need to get to him," she said, panic and desperation in her voice as she frantically started moving through the room. Guilt over her angry thoughts reigned supreme as she scrambled to find her purse and car keys.
"Please let me call someone. I can't let you drive like this, ma'am." He said the last bit just as his hand wrapped around her arm. It wasn't a threatening gesture, just one to make her pause long enough to look at him.
Fear was etched on her face as she bit her lip and nodded.
A few minutes later, her oldest son, Emmett and her daughter-in-law, Rose, were on their way to the hospital. They lived much closer to the hospital than Bella, and it only made sense for them to go straight there. Her younger son, Marcus, and Edward's parents, Ed and Elizabeth, were on their way to the house.
The patrolman waited with her until they arrived. He explained that someone would be in contact with her about the police report and any other accident-related concerns. Before leaving, he offered his sympathy and best wishes for Edward's full recovery.
The drive to the hospital was silent. Ed drove the car, Marcus sat quietly in the passenger seat, and Elizabeth sat in the back, her arms wrapped around Bella, crying softly. Bella knew how close Elizabeth and Edward were but couldn't bring herself to comfort the woman who had become like a mother to her.
As they wound through the hilly back roads, Bella didn't cry. She didn't say anything. She just sat, processing how this could have happened when things were just starting to get better. She thought of how angry she had been, how she'd second-guessed him, and felt guilt and anguish wash over her. She shivered and pressed a little more closely against Elizabeth's side.
Elizabeth's fingers combed through Bella's hair, and every once in a while, she heard her whisper it would be okay. Bella wasn't sure if the words were meant for her or if Elizabeth merely needed to reassure herself. Regardless, it helped quell the grief bubbling inside her and gave her a chance to prepare for what she'd find at the hospital.
When they arrived, Bella sat back and looked at her mother in law's time-weathered face. "He'll be fine," Bella said as confidently as she could manage. Elizabeth brushed her fingers across Bella's cheek, the two sharing a moment only a wife and mother could understand.
"I know he will," Elizabeth said and smiled sympathetically.
Bella squeezed Elizabeth's hand and then got out of the car. He'llbefine, she told herself over and over again. He'llbefine,andhe'scominghome.
+FtF+
"Mom," Emmett said as he wrapped his bulky arms around her, burying his face in her hair. She could feel the tension radiating from his body, had seen the worry on his usually jovial face, and found it hard to process that her big, strong son, a grown man, was on the verge of falling apart.
When Emmett finally let go of her, tears glistened in both of their eyes, but Bella refused to cry. Crying, she strangely reasoned, meant giving in to the situation they were in. Edward was fighting for his life, and she needed to be strong, too. They would make it through this and pick up where they'd left off that morning, of that she was confident.
Quiet murmurs of what had happened filled the small ER waiting room. Marcus tugged his mother over to the row of chairs against the wall. Bella felt his hand grip hers just as Emmett pulled her into his side. She knew they were trying to comfort her, to bring some measure of something to her at a time and place where nothing made sense, but all she wanted to do was be with Edward. She wanted to hold his hand, see his face, and ruffle her fingers through his hair. He loved it when she did that, and if she closed her eyes, she could almost hear the way he purred under her touch.
What felt like hours later, a nurse came into the waiting room.
"Masen family?"
Bella stood up. "Yes?"
"We're going to move you to the family consultation room near the ICU. If you would, please follow me."
Everyone scrambled to gather their things, relief and tension palpable.
By the time they made it to the cream-colored room, Bella felt her stomach twisting with nerves. She was desperate for news, uncertain why they were moving them to a new room.
Marcus sat down beside her. She could see the fear and beginnings of panic on his face. She reached up and whispered, "He's going to be fine, Marcus. I know it, okay? He's going to be fine."
Marcus hesitated and then nodded.
The doctor came into the family room.
"Mrs. Masen?" he asked, looking around the room.
She sat up. "Yes?" she asked quietly.
"I'm Dr. Jasper Whitlock from neurology. Your husband will be in our care for the duration of his stay. When he arrived, he was unconscious. He was triaged by the trauma team then sent upstairs for an MRI.
"Your husband suffered an aneurysm at the base of his brain. It has affected his ability to breathe on his own. He's currently on a ventilator and in a medically-induced coma to allow his brain time to heal and reabsorb some of the blood.
"Unfortunately," he said calmly, "we won't know the extent of the damage or what we're really dealing with until we bring him out of the coma. He's been moved to a room in the ICU, just down the hall."
When he finished his explanation, the room was silent. Bella nodded but didn't instantly respond, taking a moment to gather her thoughts.
She tried to wrap her head around everything he'd said. Words like aneurysm and bleeding and ventilator repeated in her mind, but she couldn't make sense of it all.
She looked at Dr. Whitlock, her eyes pleading – for more information, more reassurance, more something. "But… is he going to be okay?" she asked, her voice hoarse and strained.
"I'm afraid I can't answer that. He's in great medical hands, and our team will do everything possible to help him. Like I said before, we won't know more until we're able to do a few more tests after he wakes from the sedation.
"Once your husband is settled in his room, you may see him. But let me warn you, he looks pretty beat up. The airbag didn't properly deploy, so his nose is broken, and he has a few facial lacerations and some bruising. He has an IV in one hand, and as I mentioned, he's connected to a ventilator."
Dr. Whitlock reached out and patted Bella on the hand just as a red-haired nurse walked in and quietly said, "Mr. Masen is ready."
"Are you ready to see your husband?" Jasper asked in a soothing voice.
Bella nodded and hesitantly stood. Marcus and Emmett immediately moved to each of her sides, their hands reaching for hers, forming what looked like an impenetrable wall of protection. Rose, Ed, and Elizabeth followed.
As they walked, Dr. Whitlock informed them that no more than two visitors were allowed in the room at one time. When Bella let out a small gasp of surprise, he assured her they'd made an exception, so she and the two boys could go in together. "But just this once. We can't override hospital policy after this."
They all murmured their thanks and moved stoically through the maze of hallways until they entered the Med-Surg Intensive Care Unit. Dr. Whitlock pulled the curtain aside for them to enter. "Remember what I said. He doesn't look great, and he's hooked up to a number of monitors. There are wires everywhere. Don't let it scare you."
With trepidation, Bella moved through the curtained doorway and felt her breath catch at the sight before her. Wires. Monitors. Dressings. And a broken-looking man – her Edward – lay in the bed. She took everything in: a blue tube attached with clear tape protruded from his mouth, butterfly strips held a nasty gash above his left eyebrow closed, and a bandage across the bridge of his nose from what she already knew was a broken nose, marred his beautiful face.
She felt a sob catch in her throat and her knees buckled. Emmett and Marcus grabbed her arms and quickly moved her to the chair beside the bed. The looks on their pale faces spoke volumes. This was their father – the one who'd raised them, loved them, been strong for them – and there he was, breathing with the help of a machine.
Bella bent forward, resting her forehead against Edward's arms, allowing the warmth of his skin to wash over her. No matter how angry or upset she was, Edward's touch had never failed to soothe her or bring comfort and strength; this time was no exception. With her eyes closed and with silent lips, she apologized for doubting him earlier that evening, and then offered a prayer to a God she had long trusted, asking him to bring her husband back.
God, please don't take him from me. Please don't leave me here to survive on my own. He's my life.
She lifted her head, determined to do whatever it took to bring him back, fully healed. Whole.
+FtF+
The next week passed in a long, never-ending blur. Bella sat in Edward's room, barely moving, except to kiss his hand, whisper that she loved him, or trail her fingers through his hair.
Despite the quiet vigil she held, the room was in a constant flurry of activity. Nurses moved in and out, noting his vital signs, administering a slew of medications to help him heal, changing his catheter, adjusting the air-filled boots on his legs, and shifting his body to prevent too much pressure on any one part of his backside.
A steady stream of visitors came and went, offering words of encouragement, meals, financial help, and quiet company. Balloons, cards, and pictures from their dearest friends, fellow church members, and work colleagues had begun to fill the room.
Bella always smiled and chatted with people as they came in. She was grateful for the distraction and their thoughtfulness. Ben, Edward's best friend, came every few days and made sure Bella had everything she needed. As Bella reflected, she couldn't help but marvel at all the people Edward had touched in his forty-nine years. Then again, she wasn't surprised; she'd been there for more than half of it and knew what an amazing man and friend he was.
One evening, just after shift change, a new nurse, Angela, came in and saw Bella's head resting against Edward's leg. She noticed the way Bella's fingers were twined with Edward's and how Bella didn't move as Angela did her work, checking IV drips, taking his blood sugar, and giving him another dose of blood thinners to prevent clots.
Angela hesitated before speaking, never one to interrupt the quiet solitude a patient's family was enjoying. "Mrs. Masen?"
Bella lifted her head and sat back.
"Yes?"
"My name is Angela. I'll be Edward's nurse for the next three evenings. If there's anything I can get for you, please don't hesitate to let me know."
"Thank you," Bella said quietly. She felt exhausted. Edward had been inundated with visitors earlier that day, and she'd felt compelled to talk to each of them. She appreciated the time they'd taken to come, grateful for everything people were doing, but making small talk when all she wanted to do was get back to her solitary vigil was tiring.
Angela watched her for a beat longer, then left to care for her other patient. As the night wore on she checked in on Edward – and Bella – frequently. She noticed how silent the room was and wondered if Bella knew deeply sedated patients could hear voices. She also knew patients with brain injuries who experienced brain stimuli, like talking and music, often had a better chance of recovery.
"Mrs. Masen?"
She looked at Angela and smiled tiredly. "Please, call me Bella."
"Bella. Many patients in Edward's situation have talked about their experiences after the fact, and a lot of them have reported they could hear voices. Studies have shown talking, music, even touch, can help speed recovery. I'm not sure if you knew that, but I thought you'd want to know Edward can probably hear you. Positive talk and encouragement are critically important at this stage of the game."
She paused, assessing Bella's reaction. Bella's face was a mix of surprise, curiosity, and disbelief, and it was clear to Angela this was news she hadn't heard before.
Encouraged, she continued. "So, by all means, talk to him. Sing. Tell him stories, whatever you think will work. There's a CD player in the cabinet, and the gift shop has CDs," she finished with a smile.
"I… I didn't know that. Thank you."
Bella held her gaze for a moment longer, feeling a brief sense of relief that maybe there was actually something she could do to help him, before she turned back to stare at Edward's face. She heard the curtain slide closed and timidly spoke out loud to the love of her life for the first time since he'd been admitted.
"Hey, love. It's me.
"They say I'm supposed to talk to you, that it helps with recovery." She paused, at a loss for words. What was she supposed to say to him? It felt strange holding a one-sided conversation.
She ran her fingers across the top of his hand, bypassing the needle but smoothing over the medical tape that seemed a permanent fixture on his once perfect skin. She thought about their life, the experiences they had together – the good and the bad, the ups and downs – and she knew. She knew exactly what she wanted to say.
"Do you remember our first date?" She smiled at the memory and continued to play with his fingers.
"You took me to get a burger and fries at Happy Burger, and then we got ice cream at Scott's. You wouldn't quit playing with my ponytail. I kept telling you to quit, but I secretly loved it. I don't think I ever told you that."
She watched him, secretly hoping to see some flicker of recognition, but of course there wasn't any.
"You know, tomorrow is Friday. You've been in here almost a week. The doctors say they're going to gradually bring you out of this coma starting tomorrow morning. They aren't sure how long it will take for you to respond or what you'll be capable of doing when they do.
"I was hoping we could have ice cream after our dinner date last Friday, but you had to go have this silly aneurysm." She squeezed his hand and brought it to her lips to let him know she was joking. She had to make light of it, or she knew she'd slip into a really dark place. A place neither of them could afford for her to go.
"So, you owe me an ice cream date. Probably two or three by the time you get out of here, and I'm going to hold you to it. Do you hear me, mister?"
Bella gave him her best stern face before standing up and brushing her lips against the tip of his nose, the tops of his cheeks, and against his ear. "I promise to wear a ponytail, just for you, baby."
She gently kissed the side of his mouth and leaned her forehead against his. She wanted nothing more than to feel his mouth against hers. She missed the slight roughness of his chapped lips, the feel of his tongue against hers, the way he tasted.
"I miss you so much, Edward. I need you to wake up and come home to me. Do you hear what I'm saying? I need you, baby. I need you so much. Please," she whispered against his ear, resting her head on his shoulder.
Eventually she moved, the railing of the bed uncomfortable as it jabbed into her ribcage.
She spent the rest of the night talking about Emmett and Marcus and all the people who'd stopped by, the things people had left with them, and little bits and pieces from their years together. She even read the cards he'd received. She told him about the hospital food and how terrible it tasted.
"You are so going to owe me for this, Edward. Hospital food for a week is just… wrong."
Eventually she quieted and drifted to sleep, her head in its customary spot next to his thigh, her fingers tangled with his.
+FtF+
Dr. Whitlock arrived early the next morning, along with Dr. Vutramintan, the lead respiratory specialist. They checked Edward's lungs, pushing saline and suctioning the bits of mucous that had built up in his lungs since the last "cleaning." The process was excruciating to watch as Edward involuntarily gasped and choked with each passage of the catheter. Jessica, one of Edward's nurses, had explained the process right after he was admitted, telling Bella and the boys how critical it was to preventing pneumonia, but it was impossible to get used to.
After they finished, Dr. Whitlock turned to Bella and smiled.
"We're going to back him off the meds this morning, slowly pull him out of this coma, and see how he does. It's unclear how he'll respond once he comes out of it."
"What do you mean?" Bella asked.
"He could be in pain, although we will easily be able to take care of that. Beyond that, we'll be looking for any signs of mobility, paralysis, and general changes in his ability to move and function.
"He won't be able to talk, obviously, but once he's awake, we'll be able to turn the oxygen down slowly and measure his ability to breathe on his own. When he's ready, we can get that breathing tube out, get him off the vent."
Bella nodded. Marcus walked into the room, and Bella smiled, grateful he was there. They quickly summarized what was happening, and Marcus, ever the optimist, asked, "So, he'll be off this machine by tonight?"
Dr. Whitlock shook his head. "Unfortunately, no. It's going to take time. The bleeding in your father's brain is likely just beginning to stop. We need it to reabsorb, and that takes time. He'll need to be on the machine for at least another week, if not more." He paused. "In the event we can't get him off the vent, he will have to be trached, but we have a lot of time before we may need to discus options like that."
The news, although somewhat expected, was still stunning. Bella and Marcus looked at each other, and the severity of what they were dealing with slowly began to sink in. They were in this for the long haul.
A few questions later, Drs. Whitlock and V left. Jessica busied herself checking Edward's dressings, vital signs, and adjusting his meds.
The rest of the day passed slowly with no real change in Edward's condition. Discouraged and in need of a moment of quiet time, Bella decided to go for a walk.
She drifted along the hospital halls, lost in thought. Somehow, she ended up at the chapel. It was quiet and empty. The room was small and dark except for the stained glass window on the right and a large tree filled with golden lights at the front. A long table surrounded by potted plants and flowers stood in front of it, and a small trickling fountain in the back added a sense of serenity to the already peaceful room.
Slowly, Bella entered the small room and sat on a chair in the second row. She closed her burning eyes and bowed her head, refusing to cry. She curled into herself, her arms wrapped tightly around her waist. She felt small and lost without Edward. She needed him. She needed to hear his voice, feel his fingers consciously tangle with hers, and fall asleep wrapped in his arms.
She lifted her face up, her eyes locked on the illuminated branches of the tree at the front of the room, and every thought, every feeling poured out. She whispered her prayers to God, begging and pleading for him to heal Edward, to protect his lungs, his body, his brain. She prayed for the drugs helping his brain absorb the blood and keeping his blood pressure low.
She prayed, almost selfishly, that God would give her the strength she needed to make it through what she was now sure was going to be a long recovery and the biggest test of her life. She wasn't sure how she'd endure without some supernatural strength.
She prayed that her boys, grown men but still her babies, would find strength in their family and in each other, and that the experience they were living through would bind them and make them stronger.
She prayed for the countless doctors and nurses who would be walking this journey with them. She asked for their patience, wisdom, and honest guidance.
Bella paused, overcome by the magnitude of everything going on, and bowed her head. She squeezed her eyes tightly, feeling the prickle of tears once again, and offered one final, barely audible plea.
"God, please don't take him from me. Please don't leave me here to survive on my own. He's my life."
+FtF+
"I can't believe you used to flick that poor boy's ear to get my attention," Bella huffed as she relived their beginnings. "His ear was bright red by the time church was over."
She brushed a stray piece of hair from his forehead. It needed to be washed. She knew he would hate his hair being greasy and matted.
"If he could see you now, he'd be the one laughing at your nasty hair." She chuckled to herself at that thought. That kid was responsible for bringing them together, there was no doubt about that.
As she looked at his handsome face, his cuts healing and the bruises yellowing, Bella thanked God once again that her husband was alive. He wasn't out of the woods yet, but he was there; that was all that mattered.
For the first time in over a week, she walked out of the room with a sense of purpose, and found a nurse she'd seen before but hadn't talked to.
"Excuse me, could I get a bucket, some shampoo, and a few towels, please? I'd like to wash my husband's hair." She paused. "And maybe a razor too, to shave his face."
"We have nurse techs that can do that for you."
Bella nodded. "I know. But… I'd like to do it myself, if that's okay."
The nurse nodded and smiled. "Of course, it's no problem. I'll gather the items you requested and bring them to your room. You're free to bathe him, as well, if you'd like."
Bella thought about it for a second. She could imagine how embarrassed Edward would be if he knew people were bathing him.
"Yes, I think I'd like that, but to be honest, I'm not sure I can lift him by myself."
The nurse just smiled. "No problem. I'll send Steven in. He can help hold him in position while you do the bathing, and then he can change the sheets."
Bella breathed a small sigh of relief. She thanked the nurse again and made her way back into Edward's room.
As she waited, she quickly typed out an email to Emmett, explaining what the doctors had said and told them Edward might start coming out of the coma later that day. She asked them to join her there. She didn't want to say it in as many words, but she needed them.
A short time later, a big, burly man with red hair and a beard walked in with everything she'd requested. He introduced himself as Steven, a nurse tech, and talked Bella through the process they'd go through to bathe Edward and change his sheets.
Between the two of them, they moved through the whole process efficiently. Bella noted how Steven seemed to respect Edward's privacy, taking care to keep his lower-half covered. He averted his eyes, even though it wasn't really necessary, when Bella quickly and lovingly cleaned Edward's hips, genitals, and legs.
Steven showed her how to wash his hair without getting water everywhere. Slowly, she trickled water over his hair, using a towel to catch the excess. She poured the shampoo Marcus had brought from the house, the one that smelled like Edward, into her hands and gently massaged his scalp. She leaned forward and breathed in, feeling her entire body warm at the smell that was so entirely Edward it almost hurt. She lost herself in the feel of his wet hair between her fingertips. He'd always had the softest hair, and she knew how much he loved it when she ran her fingers through it. She could imagine him purring and turning his lazy, loving eyes up at her, and smiled softly at the thought.
When she finished towel drying his hair, Steven showed her a few shaving tricks. Bella had never shaved her husband's face, and she found the entire experience, touching Edward's skin, gliding the razor against the rough stubble on his jaw, and gently rubbing cooling gel onto his face to be a highly intimate experience. She'd never cared for him in that way, and the simplicity of such a basic task brought her immense joy. She didn't know if it was just touching him or actually doing something, anything, to care for him, but it didn't matter. Whatever it was, it helped.
+FtF+
Marcus sat beside his father's bed, his head in his hands, watching the rise and fall of his chest. He hated being there. He'd never liked hospitals, a direct result of being an accident-prone child. He looked at his father's face – no longer swollen, but still bruised and cut – and felt like a small child. His dad had always been there for him, had always been the strong one, the one he could lean on, but seeing him lying in that bed made him look weak and small.
He looked at the rain running down the window, then around the room, taking in all the cards, pictures, and balloons, and knew how loved his father truly was – and in turn, how blessed he was to have him. Marcus reached for his father's hand, their hands finally the same size, and leaned his head against the bedrail.
He set his normally jovial personality aside and began to speak earnestly. "Come on, Dad," he gently nudged. "You gotta wake up. Mom's worried, Em's driving the nurses crazy, and everyone misses your stupid jokes."
He chuckled to himself as he thought about how his dad would stick his finger in someone's ear and ask if they were "earitated." His dad was such a dork, and the fact Marcus was amused by one of his dad's lame jokes made him realize just how much he really missed him.
Suddenly feeling emotional, he squeezed his dad's fingers and quietly whispered, "I love you, Dad. I finally asked Bethany out, and… you just… I need you here, okay?"
Marcus glanced down at his hand and swore he felt his father's fingers tighten ever so slightly around his own, almost as if acknowledging that he wanted to be there for his son as well. It was subtle. So subtle he thought he imagined it, but then it happened again.
"Dad?" Marcus said as he tightened his fingers around his father's once again.
Again, he felt it, and that time he knew it was real. The doctors had said he would likely wake slowly, with very subtle movements that may not even be noticeable. Marcus looked around frantically. He didn't want to leave his dad's side, but he needed his mom, a nurse, or someone.
He felt his dad's fingers squeeze again, and it felt like the fog cleared. He saw the red Call button and pushed it. Immediately, Jessica, the day shift nurse, came into the room.
"Did you need something, Marcus?"
"My dad squeezed my hand."
+FtF+
Everyone was there, waiting, when Edward fully came out of the coma. Angela had given Bella, Emmett, and Marcus the necessary approval to be present in the room at the same time. She had developed a bit of an attachment to them in the short week they'd been there. She couldn't bear the thought of one of the boys – men – being left out.
When he finally opened his eyes, Edward was disoriented and groggy. He looked around the room, trying to figure out where he was. He took in the cream walls covered with cards and felt confused. He didn't know where he was.
Bella whispered gently that he was in the hospital, that he was okay, and that she and the boys were there, but panic set in as he tried to lift his right hand; it wouldn't move. His breathing increased as he saw the white and blue tubing coming out of his mouth. His left hand reached for the plastic, and just as he made contact, Bella's hand covered his.
"Shhhh, baby. You're okay," she said soothingly as she glanced at his heart rate and his blood pressure on the monitor. The doctors had told her keeping his blood pressure under control was imperative to preventing additional damage to his brain.
His wild, frantic eyes met hers. Bella.
His fingers tightened their grip on the plastic tubing as his breath continued to come in short gasps.
She glanced at the monitor again, noting the rising numbers.
"Edward," she said firmly, her fingers gently brushing through his hair, "you need to calm down. You're safe, baby."
His eyes flicked across the room to his sons, standing with their hands in their pockets, worry evident in the tightness of their jaws and the seriousness of their eyes.
"Hey, Dad," Emmett said as he took a step forward and put his hand on his dad's shoulder.
Marcus followed his brother's lead and squeezed Edward's hand. "Glad to see you decided to grace us with your presence," he quipped in hopes of lightening the mood, but the tight grip of his fingers confirmed the anxiety he was feeling.
Edward looked back at Bella, and she smiled. "It's so good to see those eyes," she said as she brushed her fingers over his eyebrows and lightly down the slope of his nose. Over and over she whispered calming words to him and touched his face tenderly, her eyes greedily watching the dropping numbers on the monitor.
Eventually, his breathing slowed, his facial muscles calmed, and his body relaxed. His eyes danced between Bella and Marcus and Emmett until they closed.
The next two days followed the same pattern. Edward would wake, panic, and Bella or one of the boys would talk him down, explaining why he was there, that he was okay, and that he needed to calm down.
By Wednesday, Edward was able to stay awake for increasingly longer stretches of time. He was still disoriented, but he knew where he was. As long as Emmett, Marcus, or Bella was near, he seemed to do all right. The first nursing shift change which he was awake for was rough. He panicked as Bella moved to leave the room. His blood pressure shot up, and Bella could see the fear in his eyes.
She begged the nurses to let her stay, but they told her they couldn't. They gave her an additional five minutes to help calm Edward down, a gift for which she was immensely grateful.
Bella sat down beside him and smiled sweetly. "Love, I'll be back in an hour, I promise." Her voice was soft, almost as if she were calming a small child.
His eyes welled with tears. She knew he was having a hard time controlling his emotions. He'd already cried two or three times earlier that day. She reached up and brushed away the tear that had escaped.
"I love you so much, Edward. More than anything. I'm not going anywhere, okay?" She spoke with such vehement certainty there was nothing for Edward to do but believe her.
"When I come back, I want to curl up in your bed. I miss sleeping beside you. The nurses," she said as she looked toward the curtain and then back, a conspiratorial glint in her eye, "probably won't approve, but I'm going to do it anyway."
His eyes lit up and his fingers tightened on her hand. She glanced at the clock, stood, and brushed her lips against the side of his mouth. "I have to go."
He nodded and let go. As she pulled the curtain back, she heard him grunt. She turned, and her heart stopped. His left hand was in the air, his thumb, index, and little fingers extended, while his middle and ring fingers touched the palm of his hand.
I love you.
His eyes blazed with intensity, radiating with the love she felt mirrored in her own. Her heart soared and her chest tightened, overcome, at the simple gesture that said everything. She swallowed thickly, fighting the tears welling in her eyes, as she returned to him. Of their own accord, her fingers moved – extending and bending – into a sign that was theirs, that had been a hallmark of their marriage from the beginning. She lifted her hand – their Iloveyous needing no words – and pressed it against his for what would be the first of many such moments.
+FtF+
She visited the chapel each morning and evening when it was time for the shift change. Her prayers were always the same. "Godpleasedon'ttakehimfromme. Pleasedon'tleavemeheretosurvivealone.He'smylife."
As the days wore on and he started to show dramatic improvement, she knew her prayers were being answered. For the first time since he'd arrived, the despair that had settled deep in her bones started to leave.
The remainder of the second week passed, moving quickly into the third. The boys, Ben, and pretty much everyone who came to visit joked and laughed. Edward was lucid, quick-witted – using signs and hand gestures, and almost back to his old self, even with the ventilator.
As he regained more motor function, he began using his fingers to spell out words until he got his point across. Bella was grateful on more than one occasion the entire family had learned how to finger spell. Every time he lifted his fingers and formed the letter "P" to indicate he had to pee, she smiled, gave him permission even though he had a catheter, and thought of the class they'd taken on a whim when they first got married.
"Seriously, love, why are we taking a sign language class?" Bella asked as they walked down the hallway at the church.
Edward shrugged. "I just think it'll be cool. And who knows, maybe someday it'll come in handy."
She wrapped her arms around his waist, snuggling against him. "Doubtful," she said as she dug her fingers into his sides.
He kissed the top of her head and smiled. "Just wait. You'll see."
As a joke, he'd taught the boys to finger spell. They thought it was so cool and spent hours spelling random words on long car rides or while sitting in church. Looking back, she wondered how he knew, how almost serendipitous it all seemed, as signing became Edward's only real method of communication.
As Edward improved, so did Bella. Ed – Edward's father and practically her own – continued to come each morning on his way to work, bearing a Starbuck's Americano and vanilla bean scones. They were Bella's favorite, and while Bella vowed every morning she wouldn't eat another one, somehow they all managed to disappear.
Rose, Ed, Elizabeth, Reverend Cullen, and countless others from church stopped by almost daily, despite the almost hour-long drive, to keep Edward company, to talk and laugh and pray with him. It was a welcome reprieve for Bella and the boys. It gave her a chance to shower, change into fresh clothes, and visit the chapel. It had become part of her daily routine. She welcomed the calm quiet of the room, and each morning she thanked God for Edward's improvements and prayed for more healing, specifically for him to get off the ventilator.
Dr. V had explained how important it was for him to get off it as soon as possible. They were worried about him catching pneumonia and other respiratory illnesses, as well as blood clots forming from not moving around. He said the air boots, physical therapy, and moving around as much as possible would help avoid those kinds of complications. He also explained the process for removing the ventilator – a three-step test. If he passed all three, there was a good chance he'd be able to come off later that week. The prospect of hearing his voice again gave her the strength to carry on.
Bella felt encouraged and hopeful as she prayed that morning. Every fiber of her being told her Edward was going to pull through, that the severity of his condition would be downgraded, and that eventually he would get to go home. It was the first time she'd felt that level of confidence, and she allowed the warm reassurance that went with it to wrap around her like a warm, fuzzy blanket.
When she finally returned the room, Emmett was sitting beside the bed talking to his dad. She noticed how intense and animated Emmett looked as he talked. She didn't want to intrude, and was just about to turn to leave when Emmett spotted her.
"You can come in, Mom," he said as his face lit up. "I was just about to tell Dad some good news."
"Good news?" Bella asked as she moved into the room and sat in the free chair on the other side of the bed. She glanced up, an almost unconscious reaction, and checked out the numbers on the monitor. Perfect, she thought.
"We wanted to wait and tell you, but… Rose is pregnant."
Edward's breath hitched, and Bella stared at him in shock before jumping up and pulling him into a hug.
"Oh my goodness, Em. I just… this is so exciting!" Bella looked at Edward, who was attempting a smile that looked more like a grimace. His eyes were shiny with happy tears. He raised his left hand, and Emmett took it, shaking it in congratulations.
When Emmett withdrew his hand, Edward left his in the air and slowly started to move his fingers. At first, it was unclear what he was doing, but after a few frustrating minutes, it became clear.
H-A-P-P-Y
And just like before, Bella's heart swelled as she realized what Edward was doing. Emmett beamed, his own happy tears filling his eyes.
+FtF+
"We are going to try to remove the oxygen today," Doctor V said.
Bella nodded, hopeful.
Slowly, they worked through the three tests Edward had to pass before they could remove his breathing tube. He easily passed the first and second, but when he got to the third, he began wheezing and his eyes bulged from the effort.
"Stop!" she heard herself scream. "He can't breathe."
In an instant that felt like hours, Edward was resting against the pillow, his chest heaving as he sucked in air through the vent. His blood pressure and pulse had skyrocketed, and Bella prayed for him to stabilize.
She saw Edward's tears, and she wondered if they were from fear, a lack of air, disappointment, or a combination of all three; the exact reason didn't matter. She took his hand, kissing it over and over, and whispered words of encouragement and love.
"We'll try again in a couple of days. His lungs are close to being ready now that the blood in his brain has started to reabsorb," Dr. V said.
Bella nodded. "Thanks." She didn't take her eyes off Edward's. They needed this connection. They were both desperate for success.
When the doctor left she felt his left hand pull from beneath hers, and he slowly started spelling.
S-O-R-R-Y
Tears fell down his cheeks and sobs started to wrack his body.
She felt overwhelmed as her own tears filled her eyes.
"Stop it, Edward. There's nothing to be sorry about. We'll get through this," she said firmly.
He shifted awkwardly, his eyes pleading with hers to calm him, soothe him, love him in the way only she could. Gingerly, she climbed into his bed, burrowing into his side. She remembered how good it felt to be wrapped up in his arms, the way he held her countless times after making love. They lay there, lost in their own world, wrapped up in the love they'd shared for twenty-five years.
+FtF+
The next morning, Edward and Bella had the room to themselves. Emmett and Rose were both at work, and Marcus was out running errands. Bella had just returned from the chapel and was feeling particularly needy.
She didn't ask or wait for him to invite her into his bed. He could tell by the look on her face that she needed to be near him. He shifted easily, and she nestled against him, relishing the warmth of his body and the smell of his freshly washed skin.
He lifted his left hand and twisted in, indicating his question. She shook her head against his chest but didn't say anything. He didn't push, and she was grateful. It was one of the many things she loved about him. He knew her, knew her limits and what would tip her over the edge.
She lay there, allowing his fingers to comb through her hair. It felt so good, and she realized again just how badly she missed the simple acts of intimacy they had often shared over the years. An intense longing, something deep inside her welled up, and she found her voice.
"I love you, Edward."
He smile-grimaced and returned her words with his Iloveyou sign. They stared at each other, allowing themselves to get lost in the moment, the quiet simplicity of just being together.
He brushed his hand against the palm of her cheek, and she leaned into it. She loved the way his large hands could make her feel whole, needed… treasured. Slowly, he trailed his fingers down her face, her jaw, across her lips. His hands gently wrapped around her neck, hovering just over her pulse point. Her eyes flicked up to his, and she gasped as his eyes burned with an intensity she hadn't seen since for a long time.
She breathed his name, feeling her body heat even though nothing he was doing was particularly sexual.
He pushed out a breath, and she could tell he was frustrated with the ventilator. He was desperate to get it out, as was she. She wanted nothing more than to hear his voice and to brush her lips against his, unhindered by the annoying blue tubing.
His hand drifted down, fluttering across her neck. He pulled back and made a writing motion with his hand. Bella sat up and grabbed the pad of paper she'd placed beside his bed for just such a moment. She held the pad as he slowly scratched the words – gift for you – onto the paper.
Bella smiled and slowly got off the bed. She gingerly walked over to her bag and pulled out the blue bag from Xavier's.
"Is this what you were looking for?" she asked, lifting the bag in the air.
Edward nodded and held out his left hand. She handed it to him and climbed back into bed.
Slowly, he pulled the blue velvet box out of the bag and held it out to her. Bella nervously reached for it, knowing what was inside and what it symbolized.
She flipped open the lid and felt her eyes well up with tears. She looked up at him, unable to speak, simply lost in the intensity of the moment. Tenderly, she pulled the delicate chain from the velvet pillow on which it sat and clasped it around her neck, her eyes never leaving his.
The rectangular pendant nestled perfectly against her throat, just between her collarbones. He brushed his fingers against the precious metal, and she shivered in response, loving the way his hands felt on her skin.
A smile lit up his smoldering eyes. He tipped his head, almost in question.
She didn't have to be a mind reader to know what he wanted.
"I love it," she said sincerely. The corner of his lips pulled up, and in an instant, his eyes shifted mischievously.
He trailed his finger along the length of the rectangle and then further down, stopping first over her heart and then brushing across each of her breasts. She was torn between seeing his face and watching his hands, but in the end, she couldn't tear her eyes away from his fingers. Over and over he circled her nipple, hard and pebbled even through her bra.
She gasped, loving the sensation and allowing herself to get lost in it. She knew her face was flushed and her breathing had changed, but as the sound of footsteps came closer, she batted his hand away and giggled like a teenager instead of the forty-six year old she was.
"Edward Masen, you are such a flirt," she huffed as the curtain slid open.
Irene, the day shift nurse stepped in, took one look at the two of them, grinned, and walked out. Bella could hear her chuckling as she walked back down the hall.
Mortified, Bella buried her face against Edward's chest. "I can't believe she caught us making out," Bella moaned, her voice muffled and breathy.
Edward chuckled as best he could.
Eventually, Bella pulled back and smiled, her cheeks still a bit pink. Edward's thumbed gently brushed against it. She didn't need to hear him speak or see his fingers moving to know. She could see the adoration in her eyes, and she'd never felt more cherished in her life.
Bella beamed, her heart swelling with so much emotion she was speechless.
God, she loved that man.
+FtF+
"Dude, you've got it made with all these pretty nurses and PT girls fawning all over you," Marcus joked as a pretty new nurse, Maureen, left the room.
Edward chuckled and rolled his eyes as they flitted over to Bella's. He raised his fingers and said Iloveyou. She grinned.
Edward turned back to his son. He spelled B-E-T-H-A-N-Y and cocked his head in question.
Marcus grinned and looked down. "She's good. Great, actually. We're going out to dinner after she gets off work tonight."
Edward grinned-grimaced and raised his hand for a high-five. Marcus slapped his hand against Edward's, and they both laughed.
Marcus looked at his watch. "I'm going to grab a coffee. I'll be back."
"Bring me a hot tea, if you don't mind," Bella said as he moved to leave.
A few minutes later, Tanya from PT walked in, all smiles and full of energy.
"You ready to get some exercise, Edward?" she asked as she set her bag down.
Edward nodded and raised the back of his bed. Carefully, Bella and Tanya moved him so he was sitting on the edge of the bed. He had regained most of his body function, but his muscles were weak.
"Okay, we're going to start with your arms and fingers and then move to your legs. Sound good?"
He nodded. Bella watched as he easily gripped the rubber ball Tanya had given him. He squeezed it once, twice, and then a third time.
"Good. Now, squeeze as hard as you can. Let's see if you can flatten it."
Edward squeezed, his grip tightening around it so it flattened a little further.
He looked up at her expectantly. "Excellent."
After few more hand exercises, they quickly moved through arms and then on to legs.
"This time, I want you to extend your left leg as high as you can," she said as she squatted down. He slowly raised his leg about forty-five degrees. Bella could see him straining to do more, but the sheen of sweat that was covering his body told her he was exhausted.
"Nice, Edward. Let's try the right."
Bella watched anxiously as Edward tried to raise his leg. It moved, just barely. Frustrated and determined, he tried again, grunting and breathing heavily through the ventilator. Bella looked up at the monitor and saw his heart rate and blood pressure were elevated.
That'stobeexpected, she told herself, fighting her own worry.
"Come on, Edward. I know you can do better than that. Try to touch my hand," Tanya encouraged as she held her hand just slightly above where his leg had risen before.
With another deep breath and a grunt, he tried to lift his leg.
Bella looked down and saw how close he was. Her eyes flitted up to the monitor and then his face. She saw the strain, the focus, the determination.
In an instant, it all changed.
His eyes rolled to the back of his head, he fell back, and the alarm bells sounded. Tanya gasped and jumped into action, moving around to the other side of Bella and called for help. Bella stood frozen, unsure what was happening. She pushed down the overwhelming sense of dread that was creeping up her spine as Maureen and two other nurses rushed into the room.
Someone ushered her out and down the hall into the family consultation room – the same room where Dr. Whitlock had explained everything almost three weeks prior – and told her to wait.
Alone, she replayed the events that had just transpired. Edward was working so hard, showing such great progress, and then collapsed. She shakily pulled out her cell phone and called Marcus.
He answered on the first ring. "Mom?"
"Get up here."
+FtF+
Marcus dropped everything in the cafeteria and ran; from the tone of his mother's voice, he knew something was very wrong. He skipped the elevator and ran straight up the stairs. His stomach dropped the closer he got, his heart pounding in his chest from the adrenaline coursing through his veins. He rounded the corner and walked into the room. It was packed with nurses and doctors.
It didn't dawn on him until he took in all the people working over his dad. Checking the monitor almost habit, and he noted his dad's blood pressure.
Verylow. Waytoolow.
A nurse he didn't recognize quickly ushered him out and took him to the family room.
"I'm sorry. We're still working on him," she said and immediately walked out of the room.
"What the hell, Mom?" Marcus asked as he hugged Bella and sank down beside her.
"I don't know… he just… he just collapsed during PT."
Over the intercom they heard a mechanical voice call Code Blue in room 1228. A slew of doctors and nurses ran past the family room, and Bella sat in a state of panic and hopelessness. She knew. She knew it when she saw him fall back, and with every passing second she was even surer.
He was gone.
She and Marcus watched in horror as hospital staff continued to run past. Somehow, in those few minutes, the two of them managed to get in touch with Emmett, Ed, and Ben. They were all on their way.
She closed her eyes, her hands clasped tightly inside Marcus'.
God, please don't take him from me. Please don't leave me here to survive on my own. He's my life.
By the time Dr. Whitlock walked into the room, looking exhausted, everyone, including all five ministers from church, had arrived.
Bella stood up.
"We're doing everything we can to revive him, but–" he paused.
"How did this happen?" Bella asked.
"We need to run more tests, but we're almost certain a blood clot caused his heart to stop during physical therapy. The team is working very hard, but at this stage, it doesn't look good."
Bella gasped. "Oh God," she said as her knees almost buckled. Emmett was beside her in an instant, his big arms wrapping around her as he held her against his side.
At some point, Reverend Cullen encouraged them to go in and say their goodbyes. Robotically, they moved – almost in a dream state, everything felt so surreal – into the hallway and down to his room. Bella couldn't believe the sight before her. Edward's room had been overrun with doctors and nurses.
That same feeling she'd felt, the absolute certainty he was gone, settled heavily on her shoulders.
Bella turned, tearing her eyes off the doctors trying to revive the love of her life, and asked Dr. Whitlock, "If this was your family, what would you do?"
He paused and his eyes met hers. With absolute sincerity, he quietly said, "I'd stop."
She looked back into the room, knowing her next words would change her life forever. "Okay," she said softly.
She turned and looked at Emmett and Marcus, as tears ran down their cheeks, and shook her head. Emmett reached for the wall, steadying himself as Rose rushed to his side. Marcus stared at her in disbelief, numb, confused, overwhelmed, and in shock.
Somehow, some time later, they ended up in the family room again. Emmett sat in the corner, his head buried in Rose's neck, as they quietly cried together. Marcus laid his head in Bella's lap and finally let loose all the emotions he'd been holding back and masking with humor for the last three weeks. He cried, bawled, and Bella felt the tears she'd been holding in finally fall.
At some point, someone came in and spoke with Bella about organ donation. It was a cruel surprise, and she wanted to push them away, to question how they could even ask that of her in her darkest hour, but Bella knew how Edward felt about the subject. He believed that if people were able, they should donate.
Despite her profound grief and sense of loss, she agreed, stoically filling out the forms and signing her name. She tried to take comfort in the thought of him living on, helping others. It was a small consolation, but it was something.
After what felt like forever, a nurse returned to say they could see him. Slowly, they moved down the hall, Marcus holding Bella's hand, and Emmett with Rose.
Edward lay motionless, almost as if he was asleep. He finally looked like himself, like she'd seen him every day of her life – free of the ventilator, the IVs, and other wires.
She took his hand in hers—stillwarm. She ran her fingertips over his. She saw the marks the tape had made, the hole where the IV had been, but none of it fazed her. She focused on the way his hand felt in hers – heavy, perfect. So many thoughts ran through her mind – those hands would never hold their grandchildren, would never shake Marcus' when he crossed the stage at his college graduation, would never twine his fingers with hers in the heat of passion again – and it was too much. It felt like a dream. A horrible, never-ending nightmare of a dream.
+FtF+
The next few days were filled with non-stop activity. Bella had no idea how much work planning a funeral was, but each night as she crashed in the chair in their room, she fell into a fitful sleep. She longed to curl up in their bed, to breathe in his scent, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. The loss was too real, too fresh, and she wasn't sure she'd be able to drag herself out of it.
It seemed people were at a loss for how to help, how to offer their sympathy and condolences, and so they gave. Meals, bags full of paper goods, cans of soda and bottles of juice, tea, and water arrived in droves. Cards full of money, and what felt like an entire nursery of potted plants and vases full of flowers filled the house. She felt grateful for the love and outpouring of support from their church, family, and friends. It was simultaneously humbling and overwhelming. As she scanned the gifts people had brought, she realized Edward's death wasn't just her loss; it was everyone's.
As people visited, they shared stories – some sad but most happy; it became her saving grace. Despite the sad emptiness they all felt, everyone found reasons to laugh, and it felt good. It felt right to laugh and celebrate Edward's life. As Bella immersed herself in the details of writing the obituary, picking out a casket, and planning the service, she found ways to make it feel like a celebration. He wouldn't have wanted a somber affair. He would have wanted laughter… a party.
Edward was well loved, and it was made abundantly clear just how much when she and the family walked down the aisle at his funeral. Every inch of their very large church was covered with people. She saw Edward's co-workers from the University, his childhood and college friends, fraternity brothers, all her bridesmaids – some she'd lost contact with over the years – and their dearest friends. She couldn't believe how many people were there.
As the service began, she sat, flanked by her boys, and listened to the choir sing Edward's favorite hymn.
How can I say thanks for the things
You have done for me?
Things so undeserved yet you gave
To prove your love for me
The voices of a million angels
Could not express my gratitude
All that I am, and ever hope to be
I owe it all to thee
That was Edward's heart – ever humble and full of thanks for the blessings he'd been given in life. She squeezed Emmett and Marcus' hands and looked at each of them. They were everything to her, always had been, and with Edward gone, she wondered how she would ever begin to fill that void.
She leaned her head against Emmett's large shoulder and felt Marcus' arm slip around hers. Somehow, they would make it through all this; she just didn't have any idea how.
Edward's college buddies – Ben, Dennis, and Jack – gave the eulogy. They talked of fun times they'd had, how strong their friendships with Edward were, and how he loved unconditionally.
"Edward was the kind of guy who would do anything to help a friend, something I know from first hand experience," Jack said softly.
"After I was injured playing football and lost my scholarship, I wasn't sure how I was going to be able to pay rent or bills or even buy groceries, but Edward was there. He offered me a place to live and helped me get back on my feet.
"I will never forget that, because he literally changed my life. Edward touched our lives; he changed them irrevocably, and I will miss him… so much," he finished, his voice cracking as he choked back tears.
After they'd each had their chance to share, Reverend Cullen stepped up to the pulpit, offered a brief message, and thanked everyone for coming. He offered a prayer of hope and healing for Bella, Marcus, and Emmett. He thanked God for Edward's touch on everyone's lives and for the little grandbaby Edward would never meet. He asked for comfort and community and for the church to continue to surround the family with their love and service.
+FtF+
Rain had begun to fall by the time they returned home from the graveside service and the dinner the church had provided. Feeling tired and in need of some quiet, Bella insisted everyone, except Marcus, go home. He wasn't due back at school for another month and a half. Emmett protested, but Bella insisted she just wanted some time alone. No one fought back. Bella hadn't asked for much in the days following Edward's death, and the fact she was asking for space meant she needed it.
"I love you, Mom," Emmett said against the top of her head as he wrapped his bulky arms around Bella.
"Love you, too, honey," she whispered, her voice muffled against his chest.
He squeezed her tight and then placed a kiss on her forehead, much like Edward often had. As he pulled open the door he turned and looked at her pointedly. "Call me if you need anything. Okay?"
Bella nodded and gave him a small smile.
After saying goodnight to Marcus, Bella made herself a cup of tea and slowly trudged down the hall to her bedroom. As she closed the door behind her, she realized just how exhausted she really was.
Her bones ached and her body felt heavy. It had been a long day, and she desperately wanted to sleep. She stripped down to nothing and slowly pulled the covers back. It was the first time she'd slept there since this nightmare had begun. She stared at the vast emptiness of what had once been her and Edward's sanctuary.
And she'd never felt so alone.
She turned off the light, slid in between the cool cotton sheets, her tea long forgotten, and listened to the rain. She ran her hand down Edward's side of the bed.
Empty.
She found his pillow and pulled it to her chest. She thought back to the many nights they'd curled together, their bodies wrapped around each other after making love. She missed his touch. She missed him.
Tears pricked hotly. She didn't want to cry. She didn't want him to be gone.
Bella squeezed the pillow tighter, burying her nose into the downy softness and inhaled. She choked back a sob as his scent filled her nose, her lungs. Every part of her flooded with memories, and she let her tears freely fall.
"I can't do this without you," she whispered to the dark.
She cried for the smile she'd never see, the laughter she'd never hear, and the arms she'd never feel wrapped around her again.
She cried for the lost new beginning they'd both been so excited about, and for the ending she hadn't been prepared for. She cried for her boys and for the beautiful memories Edward would never know about. She cried especially for the grandchildren who'd never know him.
But most of all, she cried for the life she'd lost, for the emptiness she felt. He was gone, and she had no idea how she'd survive without him.
As her blurry eyes settled on the water rolling down the windowpanes, she did what she had done every day since Edward had been in the hospital. She prayed.
She prayed for strength.
For hope.
For her broken heart.
And for the new beginning she was going to start… without him.
This story, with some of the details changed, is in large part what happened to my dad. When he died suddenly at the age of 49 (six years ago), he left behind three children who adored him and a wife who loved him beyond words. We were adrift for a long time, but slowly, we're finding our way. I could go on and on about how amazing he was... but hopefully you got a glimpse of who he was in this story.
Writing this and other things has been a huge source of healing for me. Thank you for taking the time to share in this experience with me and for constantly sharing the love.
I'd love to hear your thoughts.