The Heir's Little Badass

44: WHO EXACTLY ARE YOU?

I’m no doctor and judging by my grades and condition, I never will be but even I know that when someone has been unconscious for two weeks following an accident, that person is decidedly, not fine.

His day nurse, Allison, a forty something year old woman with more patience in her pinky than I have in my whole body smiles at me complacently as I ask for the one million and fifteenth time, “are you sure he’s okay? Why isn’t he awake then?”

“Sweetheart” she begins just like she does every sentence directed at me, “we’ve been monitoring him, he’s stable and he’s already begun healing. It’s all in his hands now, he decides when he wants to wake up”

I gulp and glance back down at him, my eyes fixing on the fresh bandage Allison put on his head, “you said he can hear me, right?”

“Right”

I sigh and reach for his hand, the one without the needles attached, Allison quietly leaves his room and I feel my throat clog up with the emotions I’ve been trying so hard to push down.

“You heard her, right?” I tell him softly, “She said it’s up to you so quit being a lazy cow and wake up before you give me even more gray hairs”

In the movies, the person in coma always wakes up when they hear the voice of the person they love. I know it’s my fault but that doesn’t stop the hurt from spreading through my chest at the thought that he doesn’t love me anymore.

Then again, there’s a reason they’re called movies.

The door behind me slowly opens and I turn slightly to see Sophie and Cameron, holding bags filled with plastic containers.

“Hey guys” I greet. Sophie drops the bag and throws her arms around me, “I swear I get away missions at the worst time, I’m so sorry baby, so sorry”

I wrap my arms around her and let my tired head fall unto her shoulder, “it’s okay”

“No it’s not” she insists, pulling away to inspect me, no doubt taking in the dark circles under my eyes and the redness of my nose and eyes, due to just how much I’ve cried.

“Dammit, I should have been right here by your side”

“Soph-”

“Cuba, Dylan I was getting tanned and learning to belly dance while you were here all alone, that is not okay”

I laugh and pull her back to me, “you’re here now”

She nods, “that I am”

“When was the last time you ate?”
I shrug as she pulls away and sits on the arm rest of my chair, “who keeps track of those things?”

“Excuse me?” she asks incredulously.

“Ethan isn’t eating anything either” I mumble.

She scoffs, “Yeah, and you see that liquid dropping into his bloodstream? Those are nutrients, so he’s not starving, not like you are”

I shrug in reply.

“Okay” she jumps off the chair and wordlessly pulls me to my feet. A wave of dizziness washes over me and I realize it really has been far too long since I moved from the armchair.

“We’re going to get some food into you and get you a proper bathroom” Sophie declares.

I pull my hands from her grip, “no Soph, I can’t leave him”

“Excuse me?” she places both hands on her cocked hip and I reflexively gulp, “who assigned you guardian of the comatose?”

“His parents came for two days, established that he was going to be okay and then went off again on their stupid business trips-assholes-Kathy has music classes this summer and can only come afterwards, Steven is her personal bodyguard and chauffeur. A few of his friends and relatives have come to visit but nobody is really here twenty-four seven. No one knows all his nurses by name, no one knows the names of the injections they give him daily or the amount of drip bags he uses in a day, and no one cares that he might wake up and have no one to wake up to. I can’t leave him.”

Sophie stares at me for what feels like eternity till she finally speaks, “at least use a wet wipe, you can’t be looking like you snuck into his hospital room to beg for scraps when he wakes up”

I let out a small laugh, before collapsing back into the chair. The smell of the food hits me and my stomach growls, “I think I will eat though” I tell them and Sophie huffs, “I was going to stuff it down your throat otherwise”

***

“Is this supposed to be some kind of punishment? Like you thought, ‘oh, Dylan broke up with me so I’ll kill her with worry by getting into an accident and going unconscious for three freaking weeks’. I’ll tell you now, it’s working”

My answer is the beeping of the machines, letting me know that even if he’s not talking or laughing, he’s alive. I need them to keep beeping.

I sigh and lean back into the chair, stretching my legs over the arm. It’s seven twenty-three am and nobody but Ethan’s nurses will come around till Kathy comes over in the afternoon.

I stare longingly at the boy wishing he’d move, open his eyes. Do something.

I sigh and reach for the book that had gotten stuck in between the cushions of the chair, “look, you’ve even made me desperate I went out and bought a book.”

“So here’s the deal, you wake up and I read the entire book, it’s supposed to be a touching story about two best friends tackling life together and shit and it’s definitely going to bore me so can you please wake up and read it to me?”
…

“Fine, I’ll read it myself”

I huff, and flip open the pages of the book, receiving an instant headache as the words fly off the page and rearrange to form absolute nonsense.

“At least I know the title reads Firefly Lane” I mumble as I try again to make out the first couple of words.

“They uh I’m pretty sure that’s an n but that doesn’t make sense cause the next word looks like an s then there’s like an e? It looks upside down but I’m pretty sure that’s an e so it’s they nsed?  Oh wait, it’s They used!”

“I don’t mean to be rude or anything but I’m pretty sure you have a reading disorder”

The crack of my neck whipping around echoes in the room as I turn towards the sound of the weak, hoarse voice.

His eyes are open, mouth parted in a weak smile and oh my God, he’s looking at me. Smiling at me.

A chocked cry escapes my lips and I fly off the couch and kneel next to him, “oh my God, you-you’re awake! Oh my God Ethan you’re awake!”

He lets out a weak chuckle and I feel my chest inflate, “it would seem so, yeah”

The sobs roll down freely as I bury my head into his chest as gently as I can, clutching the hospital fabric tight in my grip.

“I’m so sorry” I sob, “so so sorry”

“Um, I’m grateful that you were here when I woke up and that you’re obviously really concerned about me but if you don’t mind my asking, who exactly are you?”

I freeze against him and slowly disentangle myself, pulling back to look into his eyes and determine whether or not he’s joking.

“Ethan?” the look in his eyes is void of recognition, “is this because of what happened? What I did? I promise I’ll explain everything, you can’t seriously be mad at me when you’ve just woken up, please Ethan”

He frowns up at me in confusion and I hear the thud my heart makes as it lands at my feet, “I’m sorry, I have no idea what you’re talking about and I’m sorry, but I honestly don’t know who you are”

***
Well damn. He better be playing some kind of cruel joke, cause I can't take amnesia on top of all this (me knowing exactly what is going on and having planned it all from the start🙃)

Question: What's the most extreme thing you've gone to the hospital for?

💕Sophie