treacherous | ethma

10

Ethan

"How is she?" Olivia asked, sitting down next to me. The doctors told me to take a break from sitting in Emma's room. Maybe they wanted to get my negative energy out of the room. I couldn't help but worry about what was gonna happen to our marriage once Emma woke up, and I didn't want the answer to be a divorce.

"She still hasn't woken up yet."

"She will," Olivia said.

"I know she will," I said. "I'm just worried that our marriage won't make it."

"Ethan, Emma loves you more than anything."

I took a deep breath, remembering the last actual conversation I had with Emma. In that damn hotel room after I found out she was doing drugs again.

"Olivia, the first time she became addicted, I told her that it was me or the drugs. That's why she quit. She promised me that she'd tell me the truth no matter what was happening after that, and once she relapsed it made me feel like she wasn't choosing me anymore. Not to mention that she lied to me about it for a while. That's kind of why we separated because I thought she would quit if she realized I was being serious about making her choose between me and cocaine."

"She quit," Olivia said. "Cold turkey. She walked into my office one day and said she was done, and she hasn't went back since. It's been almost a month. She was trying to recover so she could make it up to you."

A tear escaped my eye, and I hadn't even realized I was crying. "I love her so much," I whispered. "I need her to wake up."

"She's going to."

-

Emma's sister Ava flew in from Connecticut to see Emma at the hospital. Their parents weren't able to come to Los Angeles due to work, so it'd still be a few days until they could fly over for the weekend.

Ava told me to go home so I could shower and actually get sleep. Hospital recliners weren't as comfortable as they seemed.

So, I went home and showered. Hung out with Chip, and I got the best night's sleep that I could manage without Emma. I hated that she wasn't next to me.

God, I just needed her to wake the fuck up.

I spent some time with my guitar that morning, writing Emma a song. How much I loved her, how much I missed her, and how I wanted her home.

And by home, I mean here in my arms.

Emma's fans and the paparazzi figured out that Emma was in the hospital, so my phone was blowing up due to people tweeting at me, asking if she was okay. I didn't have the heart to answer.

News channels were calling me, magazines, fan's direct messages on Instagram, and people stopping me while I was walking down the hallway to Emma's room.

I just told them that I didn't know much.

Seeing Emma hooked up to all of the tubes broke my heart. She had a ventilator, a feeding tube, a catheter, and a monitor that told everything from her heart rate to her blood pressure, and her body temperature.

It was like I was looking at Emma, but it wasn't her. The real Emma, my Emma wasn't there. At least she didn't look like herself.

I took her hand into mine as I stood by her bed the next day. There was too much equipment for me to sit next to her, so I stayed standing.

"Emma, I love you so much. I just want you to come home. Okay, Cara? Maybe we should just buy a place in New York and be close to home. I'm just not sure that LA is good for you anymore. For us. But no matter where we are, you're my home. I love you so much, and I'm always right here by your side. I know we left on a bad note, but I'm here now. I'm never gonna leave. I promise I haven't left you, and I promise I'm never going to. We're gonna be okay. You're going to be okay. We're gonna be happy. I promise. I'm gonna take you home."

The whir of the ventilator continued in its normal pattern of inhale, wait a second, exhale. I hated that Emma had to be on a fucking ventilator. I just wanted my fucking wife back.

A week went by, and the doctors ended up giving me a hospital bed to sleep on, so I could still be close to Emma, but have a comfy place to sleep.

I was grateful that Emma's sister was in town, because she was a positive light during this tough time. The doctors said that giving Emma positive encouragement would help her, and Ava was perfect for that.

Even if they lived in opposite sides of the country, they were still sisters, and they were still close.

I was happy when the doctors mentioned 'when' Emma wakes up, and not 'if'. I trusted them because they have similar patients on a daily basis.

I knew she'd wake up eventually. It was just the anticipation that was killing me.

I spent my time reading stories to her, telling her about my day, and hoping for the best.

Sure, it sucked for me, seeing Emma in this state, but I still felt optimistic that it wasn't gonna be much longer until she would wake up.

Even without her being consciously present, our love was growing so much stronger. Yes, she's been my everything since we were in diapers, but almost losing her made my heart long for her more than ever.

I spent so much time simply looking at her, holding her hand and occasionally kissing it. Well, not so much occasionally. It was more like constantly.

I wanted her back so bad. I wanted her to wake up, so she didn't have to be hooked up to these damn machines, and I could kiss her. Hold her. Everything.

And one day, when her hand was in mine, her thumb stroked the back of my hand.

I knew we were headed in the right direction.