“And why can’t you go in and remove this tumor?” I ask.
“Nevaeh signed a document requesting not to be operated on unless it’s life or death.” What the fuck.
“Recently?” There’s no way she would’ve done that. Not after everything we’ve discussed.
“No.” He shakes his head. “A couple years ago, but she never rescinded it.”
“What about the fact that I’m her husband? Can I make decisions for her since she’s not able to make them for herself?” I’m scared Nevaeh is going to wake up, freak out, and not want the surgery. If they could do it without having to ask her, she could wake up and it be done.
“If my daughter specified she doesn’t want the surgery, who are you to try to do it behind her back?” Susan hisses. “She must not have wanted it for a reason.”
“Yeah, because she was scared to die.”
Susan’s eyes bug out. “She can die during surgery?” Her head whips around to the doctor. “Is there any other way of removing the tumor? Shrinking it somehow? She can’t have surgery. I can’t lose her…”
“She’ll die without it,” I growl, losing my patience with this fucking woman.
“She can’t.” She shakes her head emphatically. “Doctor, please. You have to find another way.”
“Surgery is the only option,” Dr. Bromfield says. “Nevaeh agreed to it, but verbally isn’t enough. She’s stable, so we can’t do the surgery without her consent. Once she wakes up, I’ll have her fill out the proper paperwork and then we can go from there. Right now, we just need to let her brain heal. Give her body time to get stronger. I’ll be back later to check on her.”
And with that, both doctors leave.
“We’ll get another opinion,” Susan states. “Doctors are too quick to cut people open.”
“Dr. Bromfield is the best on the East Coast. Unless you want your daughter to die, she needs the surgery.”
“Knock-knock,” a nurse says, walking in. “I need to check on the patient. The doctor said it’s going to be several hours before they can consider lowering the meds, so if you need to go home to get a change of clothes or shower, now is the time.”
Susan huffs and storms out, and her husband follows.
“I’m going to go call my parents,” I tell Blaire. “Is Victor here with you?”
“He’s in the waiting room.”
“All right, call me if you need anything.”
I walk outside the hospital and call my dad, updating him. He and my mom are on their way to the hospital, but I tell him it’s pointless to come up here when she’s asleep and it’s all a waiting game. He reluctantly agrees and tells me to keep him updated.
Needing to get some air, I take a walk down the sidewalk and around the back of the hospital. I’ve never gone this way, but I know where it leads to. I’ve only been here once, twelve years ago, but I’ll never forget it. I should’ve come more often, but I couldn’t do it. Couldn’t look at the tombstone. Face what I caused.
I walk down the pathway to the cemetery, and once I’m inside, walk along the grass rows until I get to the one I’m looking for.
Baby Romero is the name on the tombstone since we never agreed on a name. The dates are the same, because she was declared dead before she was even born. The stone is a little dirty, but the grass around the area is cut neatly. There are fresh flowers in the holder, and I wonder if that’s done from the cemetery or if someone else did that. Until I look over at the tombstone next to my daughter’s and spot a woman kneeling in front of it. The same colored flowers in the holder. I haven’t seen the woman since the day I buried my daughter,but here she is, at the same time as me.
I don’t even know why I’m here. Maybe to remind myself of what happens to the people who are too close to me. Twelve years later, and another person I love is in the hospital, once again because of me. At what point do I realize I’m not meant to have some bullshit happily ever after? Everything and everyone I touch are tainted by my choices, my actions. Kelsi was too sweet, too kind, too good. I considered running after her when she left, but decided against it. I kept an eye on her from afar, made sure she was taken care of financially. She’s now married to a real estate broker and has two kids. She’s happy and safe.
Nevaeh deserves so much better than what I can give her. Will it always be like this? Even with my dad and me going legit? Will we always have to look over our shoulders, protect our loved ones from potential harm?
The woman sobs and places her hand against the stone, then she stands, and her eyes meet mine. “Ethan,” she breathes.
“Susan.” And it hits me… twelve years ago. She was the woman who comforted me. The woman who lost her baby. I knew I recognized her, but I couldn’t place from where. That day in the cemetery, I was so out of it. I had just lost Kelsi and our daughter. All I could remember was the woman who comforted me, but now that I see her standing in front of the grave, it’s obvious.
“I was eighteen years old,” she says, her eyes filled with unshed emotion. “I had a one-night stand and got pregnant.” She nods toward the stone. “My mother was so ashamed, she sent me away. Eight months later, I gave birth to the most beautiful little girl, and three weeks later, she died. She was born with a brain defect and thedoctors said they had to operate. She never woke up.”
She hiccups through a sob and I pull her into my arms, comforting her the same way she did for me all those years ago. “I’m so sorry.” Now everything Nevaeh has told me makes sense.
“My mother told me it was God’s way of punishing me for my sins.”
