Page 1 of Emily’s Moments (Shorts #3)

Emily’s POV

At sixty years old, this life had certainly been a long one, one I know I will finish out, still madly in love with Jefferson Moses Patel.

My husband. My rock. My tall glass of handsome and overflowing with love for me.

He was the true love of my life. He knew me, body and soul.

He was deep within the fibers of my very being.

He appreciates and loves every inch of me.

He told me and showed me every day just how much I meant to him.

And I didn’t miss an opportunity to share how much I treasured this man either!

Throughout one’s life, though, you had moments that stand out as something significant, possibly life-changing.

Like when Sebastian’s cancer came back, and Stormi said they were moving closer to family.

The seven of them moved here, to Ohio, to be closer to us.

They needed more help with the kids and with his treatments.

And these moments, they usually came when life was going smoothly, perfectly, deliciously amazing.

Moments that you knew would be etched into your mind, into the very essence of who you were at the core of you.

Moments that, when recalled, could be so vivid it felt real.

And, whether it was in how similar these moments were, or how vastly different it was between past and present.

Those were the moments that defined you.

That shaped you. That formed you into who you were.

One of those moments came in the form of a police officer knocking at your door when your family was over.

When the officer asked if your husband lived here and that sinking feeling took over in your stomach.

When they told you there had been an accident, that you needed to hurry downtown to City Hospital.

They offered to drive me there because I was unable to drive myself.

It was a moment that had happened before, long ago.

In what felt like another life to another woman, one who wasn’t me.

But it was me. It happened to me. This was the second time it had happened.

This time had just happened when I was thirty-one years old.

*Flashback*

I was sitting on our couch in the living room.

Waiting for Alex to come home, and he was late again.

He’d been working longer and longer hours for the last almost year, and I was missing him something fierce.

His overtime seemed to get even crazier as time went on.

Even on weekends! I know what you’re thinking because trust me, I was thinking the exact same thing.

I mean, honestly, I was a nurse manager.

I worked hard, even on weekends. But that’s because I was at a hospital, not an office, and life is too short to be stuck at work!

Right? So, we were leaving today for a long weekend to reconnect and catch up with each other.

It was going to be perfect! Getting out of town and down to the beach!

I booked us an oceanfront room, and I also managed to snag a last-minute parasailing trip.

He was going to love that! Checking the clock on the stove again, I was definitely starting to get frustrated.

“UGH! Where are you, Alex?!” I shouted into our empty apartment. Well, empty aside from me.

Just as I picked up the cordless phone we kept here for all the scam calls to call his office, again, there was a knock at the door.

I looked at the door, confused. I was just about to start pressing the buttons on the phone when whoever was there knocked again.

Weird. We weren’t expecting anyone today; we were supposed to be on our way to the airport right now.

Moving toward the door, I looked through the peephole, and I saw two police officers standing there.

Even more confused, I opened the door. Why were there police at my door? Did something happen in the building?

“Can I help you, officers?” Keeping the chain in place on the door, I peeked just my head around the door.

“Are you Mrs. Emily Cayhill?” The officer on the left asked.

“Yes,” I said, hesitantly, speaking slowly and deliberately, looking the officer who asked in the eyes. “How can I help you?” I felt my guard go up, my heart beating in my chest, while my stomach started sinking faster than a boat with a hole in the hull.

“Ma’am, there’s been an accident with your husband, Alex Cayhill.

We need you to hurry downtown to City Hospital.

” I stood there, not comprehending anything that had just been said to me.

It was like my brain had short-circuited, like a wire had gone bad and needed to be replaced before I could process information.

An accident? Alex? He was on his way home, so we could start our romantic weekend away.

What accident? Why was nothing making sense?

“Ma’am? Do you need us to drive you?” I tilted my head, more confused now than I was a few moments ago. Drive me where? What was going on? It clearly registered on my face that I wasn’t understanding what they were telling me, as the officers looked at each other.

“Ma’am,” one of the officers leaned down to look directly into my eyes so I would hopefully absorb the information he was about to slowly explain to me. Again.

“Your husband was involved in a motor vehicle accident. We need you to come to the hospital now. Please let us drive you.” Not breaking eye contact, I nod, a numb feeling drawing me down deeper into the abyss.

It felt like I already knew, but I couldn’t comprehend any of it.

Closing the door, I slid the lock over, grabbed my coat and purse off the hook.

I walked out of my apartment and down the hallway to the elevators, feeling like I was on autopilot or I was in a dream.

That I would wake up and everything would be fine again. The officers followed behind me.

Before I could blink, I was in the back of the squad car, and we were headed down to the hospital. I sat there in the backseat quietly, replaying the words over and over again in my head.

‘Your husband’s been in an accident, we need to go to the hospital.’

I couldn’t focus on anything other than the fact that Alex was in an accident. I had hoped he wasn’t hurt badly. They wouldn’t drive me down if it weren’t bad, though. Oh god. Did I have to identify him? Oh my good Lord! I could not do that! I could feel my heart rate spike.

Soon enough, before I had a chance to calm myself down, we were walking into the hospital. One of the officers walked me up to the surgery waiting room. The walk was quicker than I expected. There was someone in scrubs behind a desk. She talked to the officers and gave me a look of pity.

“This is the wife of the auto accident.” The officer said. The woman in scrubs nodded and went to…somewhere? I don’t even know. What was going on? How was my husband doing? What was happening?!

“That’s what we’re waiting to find out, Mrs. Cayhill. Would you like something to drink?” The officer asked. I looked at him, confused again. Why did he answer the questions I was just thinking?

“You asked all of that out loud, Ma’am.” A blush flushed up my face, embarrassment taking over.

“Shit. I didn’t mean to say any of that out loud!” I whispered-hissed at him. He just nodded his head, like this wasn’t the first time this had happened. I didn’t know what was happening, but he seemed like it was all familiar to him.

“What happened with the accident? Who hit whom? Is the other drive alright?” I asked, unsure that I was ready for the answers I would undoubtedly get now that the questions had been asked.

I was a nurse, had been for the last decade, and I knew as soon as I heard his injuries, I’d have an idea of whether he was going to make it or not.

“The other driver was drunk, and completely fine aside from a concussion, some bruising, and two broken ribs. She hit your husband, causing him to spin out and slam into the center median. From other witnesses and 9-1-1 calls, it seems she ran a red light when she hit him. And when they brought your husband in, he was critical when he left the accident scene. That was why we were sent to pick you up immediately. That’s all I know so far, Ma’am.

” He sounded so respectful. Like he was genuinely sorry I was going through this.

He slammed into the center median and was critical when they left the accident scene.

Suddenly, my legs felt like jelly, and I needed to sit. Now.

“Mrs. Cayhill.”

“Mrs. Patel?” I came out of my memories, blinking rapidly, looking around.

“Yes?” I asked, looking at the officers on the other side of my door.

“Is your husband Jefferson Moses Patel?” I nodded mutely, hating how similarly everything was to back then.

The door to our apartment had the chain still on it, opened as far as it would go.

I gripped the door tighter, but as they said the same words from all those years ago, my legs gave out on me.

I fell to the ground. A hand reached through the door, catching me before I teetered back and hit my head.

“Mrs. Patel! Ma’am! Please stay with me. We need to get to the hospital. Please ma’am. It’s an emergency.” Blinking away the spots, I nod slightly. The officer waited until I was steadied before letting go of my hand. This wasn’t happening again.

No, not again .

Why? Why did this happen at what I thought was my happiest point in my life to date?! Why?!

Pulling myself together, I grabbed my rain jacket Jefferson bought me two weeks ago when I told him I’d never had one of the yellow raincoats, but I’d always wanted one.

He always made sure that I either experienced everything or checked everything off my bucket list. It was spring, and supposed to be a wet one.

I wore it every day there was even a chance of rain. Now? It was a downpour outside.

It was like the whole world was crying for me, for Jefferson. Like the skies had opened up and let loose all the tears they’d been saving. When we reached the ground floor, the tears that were stinging my eyes threatened to spill over. Not my Jefferson. Please. Please, God.

We stepped out into the rain as we made our way to the squad car. It was all the same, felt the same. Like it was a repeat of what happened with Alex.

Please, God, don’t take him from me. Please, not Jefferson.