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Part Fifty Two

Joy's POV

I wake up to Brent cuddled around me, his arms wrapped around mine, a little smile on his face. I give him a little kiss and he smiles even more in his sleep as I gently slide out from under him. Normally, I wouldn't do this, have a one-night stand with some random guy, let alone a hockey player I meet at my friend's wedding, but there's something about Brent. I just can't put my finger on it.

I fix my hair, then walk out to the hallway where my stuff is lying on the floor. I quietly pick it up and write Brent a little note, leaving it on the kitchen table, then slip out the door. Since it's nine am, I easily hail a cab and hop in, giving the driver my address. I wonder what Brent will say when he gets my note. Maybe, just maybe I'll get to see him again. But maybe, he won't even care. 

Patrick's POV

I somehow get discharged from the hospital with only a sprained ankle and some minor stitches on my arm. My only thought though is of Kayla and the babies. This is all my fault. The hospital gave me the police report and told me that it was the other driver's fault, but something inside, just tells me that it somehow was my fault, something I did wrong. I keep ending up here in this hopital anyway. It's like I'm meant to die, but someone, something keeps protecting me. I remember when I was here last time, how the nurse said that someone was watching over me. Thank you Gramps. 

I try to stay calm as I walk up to the front desk. "Hello, how may I help you?" the woman asks me with a friendly smile. "I need to see someone," I tell her, my heart thumping wildly in my chest. "What is their last name?" "Goldberg," I tell her, my fingernails digging into fist. The woman's face falls as she look up at the screen. "I'm so sorry, but that patient passed away." My heart falls to the ground. "Oh," is all I can say. "Can I help you with anything else?" she asks, her face worried. "No," I say, "Thank you."

I walk out of the hospital into the sunny Chicago air. My phone somehow survived the crash, so I reach in and pull it from my pocket, hitting speeddial, first one and then nine. "Jon, I need you to pick me up. At the hospital." "Patrick, what happened?" he asks, his voice filled with concern. "I-I don't think that I can talk about it right now, okay. Can you just pick me up?" I'll be right over," he says as he hangs up. I slowly close my phone and try not to cry. Everything is happening too quickly, too soon. I can't do this. Not without her, not without them. She's my everything, I think, but then I correct myself. She was my everything. 

Jonathan is silent as he picks me up, the look on my face probably telling him not to ask. I ask him to drop me off at the apartment and as I open the door to get out, he looks at me. "Pat..." "Thanks for the ride. I have to go." I say, limping quickly into the building. 

The second I close the door behind me, I scream out into the empty apartment. How could this happen to me. "What have I done that is so wrong?!?" I scream out, my voice echoing. I collapse onto the ground, the sob racking through my chest. "She meant everything to me," I shudder through tears. "They were everything." I drag myself to the babies' room and reach for the box under the crib. The one with the little jerseys, the little skates I bought for them, and the two letters. I read them, crying at the promises I made to them, to Kayla, to our family. Because even though they weren't here, and even though Kayla and I weren't married, we were a family.

I curl up in the middle of the room and grab the stuffed animal from the rocking chair, hugging it to my body as the night creeps in outside. I try to close my eyes and sleep, the silent apartment prickling my ears. The tears start to fall again as it sets in. I'm all alone, now and forever. 

Jonathan's POV

Patrick won't tell me what's wrong, but I know something horrible had to happen to shut him up like that. He's never that quiet and I'm still trying to figure out what has happened as I get home. The condo is quiet when I get inside. "Laura?" I yell out. She should be home by now, so it's weird that I don't see her. Then, bam! I get hit in the face with a slice of wedding cake and as I wipe it off my face, I see Laura standing there with cake on her hand, laughing as hard as she can at my expression. "Oh, it's on!" I yell dropping my stuff. She laughs and runs off to hide as I run into the kitchen and grab some cake.