three
My brain is on autopilot.I barely remember packing or getting into my car to start the almost four-hour drive to my hometown. Probably the first time I’ve driven significantly over the speed limit, not caring if I get pulled over.
My eyes are swollen from crying, and my heart hasn’t stopped racing since I talked to the nurse. I’m assuming the worst because it’s what I do best. It doesn’t help that the worst usually happens to me. I have multiple examples from the past thirty-four years to prove it. It’s what drives my perfectionism and obsession with planning, providing me with the illusion of control.
I attempt to multitask on the drive, using my hands-free to call a few colleagues to let them know why I ran out of the office like a bat out of hell. I’ve tasked Jeremy with being my proxy for the next few days until I have a better handle on the situation. He assured me that he and the team can tackle anything that comes their way. He’s not wrong, but relying on him makes me uncomfortable.
Relying onanyonemakes me uncomfortable.
It’s why I struggle to take a vacation and actually unplug. Preferring to stay connected, ensuring I never delay the team’s progress. It’s a horrible habit, but I fail miserably every time I try to break it.
I call Brian last, knowing the small amount of composure I’ve maintained this afternoon will crumble as soon as I hear his voice.
“Hey, beautiful,” Brian says warmly after he answers on the third ring. “How’s your day?”
All the emotions I kept under control for the past hour flood out of me all at once in a soul-crushing sob. When I spoke to my colleagues, I pretended I wasn’t terrified. Thankfully, I don’t have to do that with Brian. I can let my guard down a little, not all the way, but enough to allow myself to express how I feel.
“What’s wrong?” Brian asks, his voice full of concern.
“There’s been—” I let out another loud sob as tears stream down my face faster than they have all day.
“Take a deep breath. You need to calm down so I can understand you.”
I inhale deeply and wipe the tears from my eyes, reminding myself to concentrate on the road ahead.
“Can you tell me what’s going on?”
“There was a car accident,” I blurt out.
“Oh my God! You were in an accident! Are you okay?”
I take another deep breath, attempting to center myself so I can answer his questions without breaking down again. “Not me. My mom. I’m on my way there now,” I reply shakily.
“Oh, Kate. I’m so sorry. What can I do to help?”
“Nothing. I’m not sure what I’m going to find when I get to the hospital. My mom was rushed into emergency surgery a few hours ago. I haven’t heard anything since. I’m scared she’s…”
“It’s going to be okay. You have to keep that mindset. Don’t assume the worst,” Brian suggests calmly over the faint clackingof his keyboard in the background. “I want you to focus on the rest of the drive and let me know when you get there. Call me with any updates. Can you do that for me, beautiful?”
Nodding, I press my lips together tightly. I want nothing more than to have him stay on the phone with me for the rest of the drive, but I know it’s safer if I’m focused on the road rather than talking with him or anyone else. He’s always looking out for me, one of the many reasons why I’m blessed to have him as my fiancé. “I’ll text you when I get there. I love you, Brian.”
“I love you. Drive safely,” Brian says before ending the call and leaving me alone with my thoughts for the remainder of the drive.
I want Brian by my side. This is one of those moments when I would benefit from his touch. He has such a calming presence on my soul, allowing me to feel safe and loved when my anxiety starts to skyrocket. Unfortunately, it’s the start of tax season. His priority for the next few months will be work, making it unlikely he’ll be able to join me. I get it. Career comes first for him and his family, especially during tax season. Doesn’t make this situation any easier. I’d give anything not to be alone when I walk into the hospital and find out what will likely be the worst news of my life.
Deep breaths.
I can do this.
Everything is going to be okay.
I will accept no other option.
I finish the drive in silence. It’s not until I pull into a spot in the hospital parking lot that I begin to cry again as the gravity of the situation hits me like a freight train.
After inhaling and exhaling deeply for a few minutes, forcing my emotions into a box, I wipe the tears from my eyes and get out of the car.
I can do this.
