Chapter Thirty-Two

Darkness surrounds me.

I can hear a beeping noise coming from somewhere behind me. There are faint lights illuminating the walls and ceiling. I notice with confusion I am in a hospital room.

Memories run through my mind like a film reel. I see again the silver car racing toward us. I remember the relief, realizing in a brief second, that Jared is wearing his safety belt. I remember the loud grating noise, the violent impact and the sudden overwhelming pain. I grasp relieved that I am not dead.

My hand goes up to my face and I feel tubes going into my nose. I try to pull them out, but it is too sore.

Ouch!

The needle from the drip in my hand pulls painfully and I let my hand lay down by my side again. I try to sit up but, for some reason, my legs feel unusually heavy. Alarm fills me instantaneously.

Calming myself, I take many deep breaths and then I notice a light, rhythmic breathing next to me. Turning my face toward the sound, I am staring into the gorgeous face of Jared. I feel relief and gratitude when I realize he too survived the accident.

I lift my hand to stroke his cheek, to touch him, but I let it rest on my chest instead, the needle in my hand yanking painfully at my skin.

I try to wiggle my toes again and they move. I feel unbelievable relief. If my toes move, it would mean my legs should move. I bend my knees and pull my feet toward me. Lifting my head to look, to confirm what I feel, I see my legs are still flat – two skinny lines under the covers.

Frowning, I can feel a panic attack approaching me with speed. I close my eyes and concentrate. I breathe deeply.

Calm down, Elizabeth.

Exhaling loudly, I whisper, “Is this really happening to me?”

I am generally a very insightful person and I realize immediately with sad finality that I am destined only to always be on the side-lines of Jared’s life. We are fated to always only be together fleetingly. I will never allow us to be together, no matter how much I love him, if I am unable to walk.

Jared moves next to me. His arm moves across my waist and I hear him murmur, as he hugs me closer to him.

I cannot stop myself and I lean my face toward him, kissing him lightly on his lips.

He smiles my smile, mumbling something muffled.

Tears burn behind my eyes and I kiss him again.

His eyelids flutter as he opens his eyes slowly, confusion all over his expression and then amazement and shock flash across his face simultaneously.

He jumps off the bed so fast, staggering backwards and it looks so hilarious, I cannot help laughing aloud—the sound is guttural and hoarse. He smiles, a smile that lights up the room and I can feel my heart blow apart, because I know what I must do. I do not have a choice. A lifetime of practice has brought me to this very moment in time.

He leans down to me. Stroking my cheek softly, he whispers, “Hey, sleepy head. Welcome home.”

“How long have I been here?” My voice is croaky, and my throat is dry. I point toward the water. “Would you pour me some?”

“Let me get the nurse quickly,” he says hurriedly and rushes out of the room.

Seconds later he is back with a glass filled with ice-blocks and a nurse.

The nurse walks to my bedside. She is smiling radiantly. “Hi, Elizabeth. You gave everybody a big scare.” She starts to examine me, mumbling softly, while I stare at her.

Jared offers me an ice-block and I take one, letting the coldness soothe my parched throat.

“How long have I been here?” I ask the nurse.

Jared leans closer to me. “Almost seven months and it seemed like forever,” he says softly.

“Seven months and have you been here all that time?” I exclaim hoarsely.

“I got the chance to cuddle up with you every night, didn’t I?” He smiles bashfully.

“How is my mum?” I can only imagine her reaction when they told her about the accident.

“I should phone them and tell them the good news,” Jared replies.

“She must be devastated?”

“She is. She keeps blaming herself for not keeping a closer eye on you. At least they are not blaming me – I hope.”

“Did you get hurt in the accident?” I ask concerned.

“A few scrapes and bruises here and there, nothing serious. You knocked your head badly, despite wearing the safety belt. I cannot imagine what could have happened.”

I smile sadly, thinking back how he always said he had a feeling he might lose me. Little did he know it would not be to someone else, or that I would die. It would be something infinitely more difficult and harder to deal with – or so it felt to me now. Panic rises in my chest and I know I must do this now, before it gets too difficult to do.

It feels as if the nurse will never leave. How can it be possible for her to take so long to take my temperature, my blood pressure and a few vitals?

I see her lift the blanket draped across my legs and I see her touch my legs, but I do not feel her touch. “Your hands are cold,” I say urgently. “Please don’t do that.” She looks at me with a confused frown, and then I ask her politely, “Would you mind phoning my mum?”

Still giving me a funny look, she nods her head and leaves the room.

With a feeling of trepidation, I whisper his name, “Jared.” Unintentionally I look into his eyes and I see the love he has for me in them, so I turn my head to look up toward the ceiling.

Fear fills me as I contemplate living without him, but I will not be able to burden him with me if I can never walk again. It will be better for me to let him go now, before he finds out I cannot feel my legs and then he will feel obliged to be with me.

I say determinedly, “This accident has made me realize my parents are right. We are hopelessly too young to be this serious. We have not even lived life yet, experienced things, yet we talk of marriage. It just does not seem right. You have just wasted seven months of your life waiting for me to wake up and I do not want to drag this out, so I am just going to say it. I don’t think we should see each other anymore.” I glance at him briefly.

His face is etched with confusion. Softly he asks, “What are you saying?”

Still staring at the ceiling, I say unwaveringly, “I want you to go and I don’t want to see you again.” I bite my lip hard to transfer the pain from my heart. Bravely, I suppress the tears threatening to spill out of my eyes. My eyes refuse to follow my orders and glance at him. I see the hurt in his eyes, as he looks at me intently, so I say, “Don’t make this any worse than it already is. Just leave.”

“Is this what you truly want?”

“Yes. It is,” I say adamantly. I turn my head to face him and looking at him resolutely, wanting desperately for him to leave, to spare him from being hampered by my inability to walk, to be held back from realizing his own dreams, the feeling so powerful I believe it myself, I demand harshly, “Please go now.”

He looks at me for a moment and then he moves away from the bed.

Staring at his back while he walks away from me, I lift my hand to reach for him, but then I drop it to my side again.

It is without a doubt my best performance ever.

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Continue reading this story

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Lynette Ferreira writes sweet romance stories for teens and young adults about first love, really cute boys, kissing and all the drama. She began practising the art of imagining stories from a young age, mostly due to loneliness. Now a full-time writer, Lynette and her family call Northern Ireland home.

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Lynette Ferreira

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Thank you!

With love,

Lynette

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