I laugh softly and return his smile. “Thanks, Daddy. And, for the record, I don’t blame God. I guess I just felt like He wasn’t doing me any favors.”
“Well, this seems like a pretty big one.”
I swallow the sudden lump in my throat and blink back tears of gratitude. “Yeah, I guess it does.”
Chapter 17
Liv
I snuggle up against Gabe’s warm body under the cool sheets in his freezing apartment and listen to the peaceful sounds of him sleeping. The blades of the ceiling fan circle above us, making a gentle swooshing sound, and the crickets and frogs are making soft music outside that reminds me of summertime when I was a child. Roxy makes an occasional low gruff in her sleep—a sound I’m quickly getting used to.
Knowing that Roxy is wired to protect Gabe, even when she’s asleep, is reassuring. As much as I try not to worry about him, I do. It’s only a matter of time before he has another seizure. Knowing that it will inevitably happen again soon is torment. Roxy is the only thing that gives me any peace about it.
I’ve been doing a little research and the only thing I’ve learned I can do to help him when he’s having a seizure is nothing. More specifically, I should remove any sharp objects, loosen any tight clothes, and help reassure him after it’s over. So, aside from the obvious, there isn’t anything I can do to help him. I think that’s what scares me the most. All I can do is watch it happen.
Part of me wishes he would have the surgery, but I’ve been researching that too, and he’s right. There are a lot of risks involved. Risks I’ve been struggling with. What if his motor skills are affected? How much physical therapy would he have to go through? What if he couldn’t make furniture anymore? What would that do to him? He loves making furniture and he’s just gotten his line off the ground. Or what if his memory is affected? Could it be permanent? Could he forget everything we’ve been through to get here? My chest feels tight just thinking about it and I can tell that my face has screwed up.
I inhale a slow, quiet breath and let the unnecessary worry go. Gabe isn’t interested in the surgery and for now, neither am I.
I close my eyes and try to fall asleep.
Gabe has been passed out for the last half hour. And when Gabe sleeps, he’s out. Probably because he’s exhausted from all the hours of manual labor he puts into making furniture. It’s no wonder his body looks the way it does. We’ve gotten in plenty of quality time in that old garage of his, though. And in the back of his truck. And under the old oak tree behind the barn. And inside the barn once when we got caught in a storm.
We’ve only been back together for a week, but we might be making up for lost time.
I smile and roll over, pressing my back to Gabe’s stomach, and he flops his arm over my shoulders, drawing me near in his sleep.
Sleep is something I battled for years following the accident. I didn’t have a good night’s sleep for months afterward. I would lie awake for hours, afraid of the recurring nightmare that lurked behind my closed eyes, waiting to destroy me night after night. I would have intense flashbacks of the accident, always with me trapped inside the car dangling by my seatbelt, staring at a lifeless Gabe and screaming for my missing brother. It’s been years since I’ve had that dream, but it still haunts me.
I open my restless eyes and watch Gabe’s chest rise and fall with slow breaths. It makes me happy to see him sleeping so hard, lost in what must be a peaceful dream. His face looks relaxed and tranquil. I snuggle into his nook and breathe in his scent. I love being so close to him during the quiet, vulnerable hours of the night. It makes me feel calm to know that he’s safe, and it makes me feel safe to be wrapped in his arms.
My mom isn’t thrilled about me sleeping over here, but I’ve informed her that ship sailed long ago. And that Gabe and I are adults who don’t actually need permission to spend the night together. Still, I can’t help but wonder if Gabe’s parents have noticed. I’m sure they’ve seen my car parked next to his truck in the early hours of the morning. I’m also pretty sure that Gabe has already filled them in on our reunion.
I close my eyes and push away every new thought that bounces into my head. Each one moves in like a blob in a lava lamp, slowly ricocheting from one side of my mind to the other, changing shape like an amoeba. I gently push each one out of view, until I finally drift off to sleep.
* * *
Something is crushing my chest. I struggle to breathe. I want to move my arm, but I can’t. It hurts. Hot tears burn my eyes, blurring the dark that surrounds me. I try to cry out, but there’s no sound. I struggle under the weight of a thousand bricks, but I can’t move. A bright light replaces the dark, but it’s blinding.
Liv, a gravelly voice calls my name.
I try to turn toward it, but I can’t.
Liv, the strangled voice calls again, and I know that it’s Gabe.
Gabriel, I cry silently from under my lead blanket. The light softens and I see something...someone coming into view. Gabe? He’s hanging upside down and his arms are splayed limply by his head. His face is turned away from me, but there’s blood pooled around him. He needs my help. I struggle and try to scream, but I’m trapped by the deafening weight of an ocean, unable to move or make a sound. He turns his blood-stained face toward me and his eyes, stained crimson, pierce mine.
Help. Me. Liv, he gurgles.
“Gabe!” I scream.
“Liv...Liv.”
I wake to Gabe shaking me, and I gasp.
“Liv, look at me.”
“Gabe.” I grasp for him in the dark.
“I’m here, I’m right here.” He pulls me against his chest and I feel his warm skin beneath my cheek.
I cry softly against his shoulder.
“It’s okay. It was just a dream. You’re okay.”
“But you weren’t. You weren’t okay. I was inches from you, just inches, while you were bleeding to death, and all I could do was pray that you weren’t dead,” I cry, remembering.
“I know.”
“I was so scared. I just wanted you to open your eyes and tell me that you were okay, that everything was okay, but—”
“Shhh...I know.” He runs his hand over my hair, soothing me. “I know.”
He holds me in his arms for a long, silent minute.
“How often do you have them?”
“Not often. Not anymore.”
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers into my hair.
“I was thinking about the accident before I fell asleep. I’m sure that’s what triggered it.”
“I wish I could take the nightmares away, make you forget what happened. I would do anything to erase those memories for you.”
I turn my face up to his, seeing him more clearly in the gray moonlight that’s filling his apartment. I cup his scruffy cheek in my hand and pull his mouth down to mine. “I know a way,” I whisper, “at least for tonight.”
* * *
I wake to the familiar buzzing sound of a table saw. It starts and stops every few seconds.
Gabe is working.
I smile and sit up, feeling refreshed. After Gabe made love to me in the middle of the night, I slept like a rock.
Note to self: make love to Gabe to remedy bad dreams.