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Mark opened his eyes. Four long weeks after the accident, just after Mark’s dad left San Diego to go back to work, Mark’s eyes fluttered open and then shut.
It was my shift. Elizabeth was home with the kids. Kate gave me a look that seemed to say, “Wait.”
My heart bounced into my solar plexus, sucking away my breath. This was the new beginning we had been waiting for. This was the moment that would predict all that came next.
Mark opened his eyes again and blinked a few times, looking around in a daze. Kate spoke to him in her typical calm, comforting tone. “Mark, everything is okay. My name is Kate. I’m your ICU nurse.” He pushed his head back into his pillow and furrowed his brows. My husband looked stunned and disoriented. I wanted to touch him but I was afraid to move.
“You’re at California General Hospital in La Jolla. Your wife Natalie is here.” Kate glanced over at me and motioned for me to step forward.
“Go ahead and hold his hand,” she said. “He is probably very confused right now. He’s coming out of a deep sleep and he may not recognize you, but you can still reassure him that he is in safe hands.”
Nodding my head, I made the single step toward his bedside as if I were moving through a thick suffocating fog. I had rehearsed this moment in my head every night since the accident.
Now that it was really happening, I had to fight to stay present. A part of me wanted to pick up my cell phone and tell everyone we loved that Mark was awake, that he was going to be all right. Another piece of me wanted to put my hands on some old analog clock and suspend time.
I took a timid step forward.
“Mark?”