Lost in Me (Lost Duet #1)

Chapter Twenty-Six

Shawn

Three Weeks Later

I continue to pass back and forth as I wait for the nurse to bring my wife to her room. They are still doing tests. She is in a coma, but as far as they can tell, it is still touch and go with the baby and her. The doctor has stated to me several times that he doesn’t know why she and the baby are still alive. He seems confused, but I am not. She is a fucking fighter. That is why she and my unborn child are survivors.

Ethan continues to lean against the wall. I can feel his eyes on me. He hasn’t left my side since he and the others got here three weeks ago after they burned the house and got rid of Jesse’s remains. No one will ever fucking find him.

I stop pacing for a moment and look at Ethan. His eyes are locked on me as I run my hands through my hair. I turn around and walk over to the window, leaning forward and resting my arm against it. The rain is still coming down. It has been stormy off and on since I got here.

They have tried to get me to leave to sleep, eat, and shower, but I fucking refuse. There is no way in fuck I am ever leaving her again.

Ethan calmly walks over and stops at my side. He leans his arms against the window as we walk, people coming and going. Some are smiling, others are crying. This place is one of life and death, and honestly, I don’t know which one I will be.

“You know, when I was reading her file, she called herself The Ghost. The Ghost of me,” I state in a low, shaky voice.

“Ghost? Ghost of me?” Ethan states in a confused voice.

He is not alone. At first, I had no idea what she meant, but when I went into that basement and saw what he was doing to her, I finally understood.

I slowly nod. “Yes, she made several statements with the phrase, ‘Ghost of me.’ She felt like she was never seen, heard, understood, or loved. Like she was just living without living,” I state in a low, shaky voice.

“You know she doesn’t feel that way anymore,” Ethan states with as much confidence as he can. I know he means well, and I know he believes what he is telling me, but honestly, I don’t know. I know she screamed for me when Jesse was hurting her. She was screaming, and I wasn’t there. I wasn’t there when he took her. I just wasn’t fucking there.

I take a deep breath as the tears start to build in my eyes. I slowly turn and look at Ethan. He turns and looks at me. “I hope that is true,” I state, allowing the tears to escape my eyes and roll down my face.

“She knows, and if she doesn’t, she will,” Ethan states with confidence. I know he believes that, but right now, I feel like I am fucking free-falling. Falling into the fucking endless darkness, and I am afraid if I continue to fucking fall, I will never be able to escape the darkness inside me.

With her, it was easy to cage it and forget it, but now that I have given back to it, I can feel it inside me grabbing hold, wanting my soul, and she is the only one that can save me.

“I hope you are right. I don’t know what I am going to do if I lose her,” I state as calmly as I can. The pain, guilt, and shame I feel are starting to fucking take over. I am drowning, and I am drowning fucking fast in the three emotions. The three emotions I know can fucking destroy me from the inside out, and I know Ethan can see it. I can hear it in his voice.

“Don’t fucking think like that, man. You must be strong. You must be strong for her,” he states, reminding me of what I need to do, reminding me I need to be here for her. If I lose my shit, then Jesse wins, and I fucking refuse to let that happen. I need to hang on. I need to hang on like she is doing right now.

“I am trying,” I state softly. That is all I can do. If Emory can fight for her life, I can fight against the darkness. I can try to be the man she needs me to be.

“I know, and we are all here to make sure you stay strong. You are not alone, dude, and neither is she,” Ethan states in a soft voice, reminding me that we are family, reminding me he has my back, that they all have my back.

Before I can respond, I hear the nurses pulling the bed back in. Ethan and I both turn around and watch them roll my future wife into the room.

Her face is finally starting to heal. The cuts Jesse made have been taken care of and are patched up. Seeing her like this breaks me in every way humanly possible. And honestly, I am fucking scared. Scared that I didn’t make it in time. Scared that she just wants to give in to the cold darkness of death. I wouldn’t blame her after what she has been through, but if she dies, so do I because I don’t want to live in a world without her. I can’t fucking do it.

I slowly make my way over to the side of her bed and take a seat. The nurses are hooking her back up to all the monitors and things I know nothing about.

“How is she?” I ask in a low, shaky voice. I am honestly afraid to hear the fucking answer. I see her, and she is bruised and still not awake.

Every second that goes by with her eyes closed makes me lose my mind even more. All of this is making me lose my fucking mind.

“The results looked promising. The doctor will be in soon to talk to you,” one of the nurses states, giving me a little but not much. I fucking hate this. I hate not knowing what is happening with her and my unborn child.

“Thank you,” I state softly as I lean forward and gently take Emory’s hand in mine. Wishing and praying she wakes up. I need her to wake up.

“Of course, let us know if you need anything,” the nurse states.

“I just need her,” I state calmly, answering more for myself than them.

The nurse nods, gives me a sad smile, and leaves the room. I can hear people walking by. Each person who walks by makes my heart sink. I just want to know what the fuck is happening. I just want to know if Emory and our unborn child are going to be okay.

Ethan makes his way to the other side of the bed. He takes a seat and reaches out, grabbing her other hand in his. We both sit in silence as we wait for the doctor to come in.

It hasn’t been that long, but it feels like fucking hours.

I look up and see the doctor walk in. I lean back in the chair but keep my hands holding Emory’s, afraid to let her go. I will never let her go again.

The doctor stops at the end of her bed. Ethan and I both look at him, waiting to hear whatever news he has.

“Emory and the baby are doing much better. It looks very promising,” the doctor states in a hopeful voice, but I can see the concern in his eyes.

“Then why hasn’t she woken up?” Ethan asks for me. Both of us need to know.

“The trauma to her head was violent. The brain is healing, and in time, she might wake up,” the doctor answers, looking at me.

“ Might ? What do you mean, might?” I ask as calmly as I can.

“Shawn, I have no idea why she is still alive or how the baby is still alive, but she is fighting. They both are. All we can do is wait and hope she wakes up,” the doctor says in a sad but hopeful voice.

“That’s it?” Ethan asks, his anger starting to come to the surface.

“I’m sorry, but there is nothing more I can do. It has been said that it helps if loved ones talk to patients who are in a coma. Maybe that will bring her back. I can’t make any promises. I’m sorry.” He looks at Emory for a moment, then turns and walks back out the door.

I am fucking pissed, but not at him. None of this was supposed to happen.

I turn and lean into Emory. I release one of my hands from hers and lift it up gently, placing the back of my hand against her cheek.

“Please, Angel, come back to me. I can’t live without you. I’m sorry. I am so sorry. Please don’t leave.” I let more tears escape my eyes.

I look up at Ethan. I watch his own tears roll down his face as he looks at Emory.

She has to make it. They both do. Because honestly, I will die without either of them.