“Je ne voudrais pas vous laisser.” I wouldn’t let you. “Mon cœur ne pouvait pas prendre ce.” My heart couldn’t take that.
I widen my eyes at him. “Ce qui vous fait penser mine peut?” What makes you think mine can?
He inhales a deep breath and squeezes my hand, but he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to. His tortured eyes say it all. He lifts my hand to his mouth and softly kisses my knuckles.
“All right, you’re all set,” Nina says, giving Gabe his arm back, and with that, our private conversation comes to an end.
“Is it okay if we come back in now?” Jackie calls from the doorway.
“Yes, you can come in,” Nina says. “I’m just going to go let Dr. Franklin know that Gabe is ready now.”
My heart plummets to my feet. He’s ready? Now? But I’m not ready. I’m not ready! I’m just about to say this when Jackie and Danny walk back into the room, but I’m silenced by the look on Jackie’s face. She’s scared for Gabe.
And now I’m terrified.
She sits on the bed beside Gabe, wraps her arms around his neck, and speaks quietly to him in French. I stand up to give them privacy, but Gabe tightens his grip on my hand and pulls me close to him again.
“I’ll see you after,” Gabe says to her.
She kisses his cheek and reaches for Danny’s hand. Danny takes it, and then leans in and kisses Gabe firmly on the forehead. “I love you, son.” His voice is huskier than normal. “We’ll see you real soon.”
“I love you too, Dad.”
Danny wraps his arm around Jackie’s shoulders. “Liv, we’ll be in the waiting room.”
“Mm-hmm.” It’s all I can muster. I’m afraid that if I speak, the dam will break.
Danny guides Jackie out of the room and Gabe and I are alone again. There’s so much I want to say before they take him back, but there isn’t enough time to get it all out. Gabe pulls me down onto the bed beside him and wraps his arms around me.
“I love you,” I whisper. Of all the thoughts flooding my head right now, that’s all I can say.
He reaches for my face and kisses me softly. Then he takes my hand and asks, “Do you have a pen?”
“A pen?” I barely get out.
He nods.
“Um, hold on.” I get up and look in my purse. I find one and return to the bed with it, along with a yellow sticky note.
He crumples the small square of paper and tosses it aside.
I look up at him confused, but he turns my hand over and opens my palm. And then he begins to write on it. I watch curiously as he drags the pen across my skin, the moment consuming me as I read what he’s writing.
I will love you
the same tomorrow
as I do today.
He holds my hand and blows softly on my skin to dry the ink as I read the words that he wrote to me on my eighteenth birthday. “Gabriel.”
“Hello, Gabe! How are we doing this morning?” Dr. Franklin asks enthusiastically as he enters the room.
I stand up beside the bed and try to pull myself together, but a stray tear runs down my cheek. I’m careful not to wipe it with the hand that Gabe wrote on.
Dr. Franklin must notice, because his demeanor quickly softens. “Liv, Gabe is in great hands today.”
“I know,” I say, forcing a small smile.
“It’s time to take you back,” he says to Gabe, and several new nurses file into the room.
Why are there so many? Did Nina spread the word about the hot neuro patient in room 408?
Gabe reaches for my hand once more, ignoring the nurses who are checking his IV and preparing his bed to be mobilized.
“Excuse me,” one of them says to me.
I move out of the way, breaking contact with Gabe, but his eyes stay on mine, so I ignore the next nurse who bumps into me. “It’s time,” one of them says.
I kiss Gabe’s forehead and force myself to step away from the bed, but he holds my hand and pulls me with him as they wheel him out of the room.
I follow beside his bed until one of the nurses tells me I can’t go any further, and I force my feet to stop moving. I feel Gabe’s fingers slip out of mine as they move him away from me and my heart aches to the point of physical pain as I watch him go.
“Liv,” he calls, and I run to his bedside again, ignoring the nurses who are telling me—more firmly now—that I can’t go any further. He pulls my face to his and kisses me, and I feel the bed stop moving for a moment. He holds my face above his and smiles a big beautiful smile that makes me forget everything else, and for the first time today, I feel like everything is going to be okay. I squeeze his hand, but his fingers slip from mine too soon as they continue pushing him down the hallway.
“Walk with me,” Nina says, showing up just in the nick of time, because when I watch them take Gabe through the double doors at the end of the hallway the panic sets back in.
The rational part of my brain tells me that everything will be fine, that he will be fine, that I will be fine. But the irrational part of my brain tells me I might never see my Gabe again. The rational part of my brain also tells me that this is how everyone feels when their loved one is undergoing major surgery, especially major brain surgery, and that I’m not a crazy person for feeling this way.
As Nina guides me down the hallway toward the waiting room, she takes one of my hands and holds it between both of hers. “I haven’t seen that kind of love in a long time,” she says, catching me by surprise, and forcing the dam to break wide open. My feet stop moving and I drop my head and cry—quite literally—on her shoulder as she pulls me in for a hug.
“They’ll take care of him, right? He’ll be okay?” I ask, looking at her for affirmation.
“He’s going to be fine, darlin’.” She pats the back of my hand and starts to walk again. “I know you don’t remember, but I was one of the nurses who took care of you after the accident.”
She was?
“When Dr. Franklin told me who you were today, I remembered you immediately.” She squeezes my hand. “I took care of both of you.”
My heart swells knowing that she was there for us after the accident, and I feel and instant connection to her.
“It was a bad time, I know, but seeing the two of you today...” She smiles softly. “Well, it makes all the bad days seem a little more worth it. Makes me grateful for what I get to do.” She smiles again. “I get to see miracles happen. And what you and Gabe have isn’t anything short of a miracle. Gabe is lucky to be alive. But I’m guessing you already know that. The doctors and nurses taking care of him today know it too. So don’t think for a single second that we won’t do absolutely everything possible to make sure he pulls through this surgery with flying colors.”
I smile and wipe my tears. “Thank you, Nina.”
“Je t’en prie,” she says, giving me a wink.
“What?” Nina just said you’re welcome in French.
She gives me a shy smile and admits, “I spent a few summers in France with my favorite aunt when I was a girl.”
“Serves us right. We shouldn’t assume we’re the only two people in a room who speak French.”
“Don’t worry, I would have stopped you if you started talking dirty.” She laughs and elbows me playfully.