Page 53 of Moonlight & Matrimony (Oak Ridge #2)

Ivy

? Everything I didn’t Say - Ella Henderson

“ W here the fuck is she? Where’s my wife?”

Luca’s voice is a quiet hum beneath the relentless beeping and whooshing sounds reverberating throughout the unfamiliar space. I try to open my eyes but it feels as though they’ve been sealed shut, and my throat burns with an intensity unlike anything I’ve ever felt.

“Sir, I’m going to need you to calm down. You are disturbing the entire floor.”

“I want to see my fucking wife. If you aren’t going to make that happen, you need to get the fuck out of my way.”

“Son. Calm down. I’ll handle it, okay? Go back to the waiting room.” Footsteps fade down the hallway, growing fainter as they carry him further away from me. Come back. Please.

“Ma’am, my name is Russell Hayes. I’m sure you’ve heard of me. I know you mean well, but that man is a ticking time bomb. If you could just get us an update...” The familiar voice trails off as I drift back to sleep.

“How much longer until she wakes?” Paige’s sullen voice breaks into the relentless nightmare that’s been playing on a loop in my mind for longer than I can fathom.

No matter how hard I fight, I can’t pull myself out of it.

The chill of the creek water, Rylin’s body limp in my arms, the sound of the gunshots.

“There’s no way to know for sure. Her brain activity is hopeful, and she’s breathing on her own. We just have to wait.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

Retreating footsteps echo through the space until they disappear entirely. The air is thick with the sharp bite of antiseptic, and a cold, metallic scent that hangs in the air.

A faint voice breaks the stillness, a whisper of urgency barely held in check. “How’s Luca?” Evelyn.

Somebody’s hand touches mine, just the faintest brush before Paige speaks again.

“He’s… not well. I took some groceries by the house last night but he didn’t come to the door. I used the spare key and left a note. I don’t know what to do.” Paige chokes on a sob and I hear the sound of metal scraping across the floor.

“There’s nothing we can do, sweetie. We just have to wait for her to wake up.”

“And then what? What do we tell her? What about Rylin?”

“We’ll take things one step at a time, honey. That’s all we can do.”

Rylin? My baby.

The once steady beeping speeds up as I try to claw my way out of the darkness. I have to get to my daughter. There’s a deafening scream in my head before everything goes dark.

Luca

Weeks have passed since that terrifying night in the creek, but the consequences have left my life in ruins, and I wonder if it was worth it.

When presented with the piles of evidence against Austin, the prosecutors declined to charge me with a crime, ruling it as self-defence.

I’ll never regret giving him the end he deserved, but the cost could never outweigh the outcome.

A dull, heavy ache has settled in the hollow of my chest, where my heart once beat only for them.

My visits to Ivy are a daily ritual, fueled by the fleeting hope that she’ll come back to me.

In the darkness, when I finally give in to my body’s pleas for rest, the haunting sounds of the machines helping her to cling to the last embers of life fill my nights with unease.

The all-too familiar room is quiet, save for the steady rhythm of the ventilator. Ivy lays motionless, her face pale against the pillows, tubes and wires winding across her body.

Does she even know I'm here?

My thumb continues tracing slow patterns over the back of her hand, pausing every so often to feel the faint pulse along her wrist beneath my fingertips.

“Ivy,” I whisper, my voice rough and almost unrecognizable to my own ears. “I’m so fucking sorry. I should have protected you. I should have… I should have been there.” The doctors aren’t sure if she can hear me, but I speak softly to her, anyway.

I blink back tears, my vision blurring momentarily, but I refuse to let them fall.

I don’t deserve to cry, not when she’s laying here because of me.

My mind replays the events of that night in excruciating detail — the sound of rushing water, Austin’s wild eyes as he fought me for the gun, my brave, incredible wife, lying lifeless on the bank, shielding her daughter with her own body.

And above all, the sickening realization that I was too late.

“Rylin is…” I whisper, hoping my wife can hear me, as if she could somehow take away all the pain.

The once vibrant little girl who stole my heart from the front yard tree swing has become unrecognizable.

“She’s with Evelyn,” I continue. “She's safe, but she’s not the same. Our girl is broken, and I don’t know how to fix her.

She won't speak, but I know she misses you, Ivy. She needs her mom. Come back to us.” My voice breaks on the last word as I fail to hold in the sob that forces its way out of my body, the tears I worked so hard to keep at bay cascading down my face.

Bowing my head, I rest my cheek on our joined hands, taking solace in the feel of her skin on mine. “I… I’m broken, too. I can’t breathe without you. I don’t know how to be okay when you’re not here. The nightmares. Fuck. The nightmares, Ivy. I can’t live like this.”

For a long time, I just sit there, clinging to her icy fingers, the silence stretching on.

I want to believe she can hear me, that she’s fighting to come back to us, but with every day that passes, I lose a little more hope.

My gaze moves to her face, taking in the remnants of the bruises that mar her skin, now fading from deep purple to yellow and green.

“I love you, Ivy.” I’ve never said the words — not really. I think I did everything I could not to say them. The memory of our fight resurfaces, sending a pang of guilt straight through me, the final words echoing in my mind, haunting me.

Bringing her hand to mine for one last lingering kiss, it takes every bit of my remaining strength to stand, preparing to leave her side, but something stops me — the faintest twitch of her hand, or maybe it was simply my desperation causing me to imagine things.

I turn back slowly, my heart pounding out of my chest. For a moment, there’s nothing, just the same stillness that has gripped the room for weeks.

But then, just as I’m about to chalk it up to my imagination, her hand gently closes around mine.

“Ivy?” My voice is strangled as I lean closer, searching her face for a glimmer of life. I cup her jaw with my other hand, stroking my thumb along her too thin cheek. “Come back to me. I’m here. Come back to me, Trouble.”

Her eyelids flutter, the faintest movement, but to me it feels as if the world stops spinning. Another small twitch of her fingers is followed by the faint furrow of her brow. Agonizingly slowly, her eyes open, unfocused and frenzied.

“Ivy, sweetheart. I’m here. I’m right here. Look at me, baby.” I clutch her face in my palm, forcing her to look at me.

“Luca,” she whispers, her voice hoarse, barely audible, but it’s her. My wife. My love.

A sob of relief tears from my throat, and I fall to my knees at her bedside, clinging to her hand, not giving her a chance to slip through my fingers again.

“I thought… I thought I was going to lose you.”

The faintest smile plays on her lips, and it’s like the moon and the stars dance behind her eyes. “I’m sorry…”

“No, no, don’t be sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for. You fought so damn hard. I’m so proud of you.”

Ivy’s expression softens, and she squeezes my hand again, this time with a little more strength. “Rylin… is she…?”

My breath catches at the mention of our girl, grief nearly overwhelming all of my senses. I hesitate, not wanting to burden her with the weight of everything that’s happened since she’s been asleep. But she deserves to know.

“She’s been staying at the ranch with Evie,” I say, keeping my voice even and steady.

“She’s safe, but she’s not herself.” I don’t want to say too much.

I’ve only just gotten her back and I can’t predict what kind of impact this knowledge might have on her.

Ivy has always been so damn strong, but I’m terrified to find out what will be left of her when we finally leave this place.

I watch as her face falls, her eyes filling with tears, and it takes everything in me not to pull her to my chest and hold her while she cries. “My baby…” she whimpers before her face falls. “Oh my god, what about Austin?”

“He’s dead.”

Her face changes to something I can’t describe. It’s not quite grief, or anguish, but something akin to relief tinged with something bitter.

“Okay,” she sighs, her body visibly relaxing.

“I’m going to get the doctors in here, and I need to call everybody. They’ve all been so worried. You really gave us a scare.”

“Please don’t leave me,” her body begins to shake, gaze darting around the room as if she’s seeing a ghost.

I cup her face in my palms, trying to ease her nerves. “Hey. Hey. It’s okay. I’m not going anywhere. I have my phone, and I’m just going to press the call button, okay? Stay with me, Ivy. You're safe. Nobody can hurt you now.”

The last of my restraint collapses as her eyes remain unfocused.

I place one hand behind her knees and an arm around her back to shift her to the side of the bed, making room for my body to nestle up against hers.

I pull her head to my chest as I hold her while she falls apart.

I reach out a hand and push the call button, waiting quietly for the nurse to arrive.

No more than a heartbeat or two later, Ivy’s breathing steadies and she falls into fitful sleep.

Ivy

I’m sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, buttoning the shirt Luca packed for me, surrounding myself in his familiar woodsy scent.

It feels surreal to be wearing normal clothes again, having spent the better part of the last month in stiff hospital gowns.

My body aches in places I didn’t think could hurt, and there’s a heaviness in my chest that won’t subside.

But I’m going home today, and the thought of seeing my baby girl is the only thing keeping me from falling apart again.

I glance toward the doorway where Luca is standing, his subtle smile not quite reaching his haunted eyes. He hasn’t been sleeping much. I can tell in the way his shoulders are sagging and it’s written in the dark circles under his eyes. But he’s here, steady and unwavering as always.

“Are you ready?” he asks, his voice gentle, like he’s afraid I’ll shatter at any moment.

I nod, internally doing my best to convince myself that I’m ready for anything. I have to be strong, for Rylin and for myself, and though he’d never admit it, for Luca, too.

Luca approaches, then. Reaching out a hand to steady me as I attempt to stand.

Every step is a reminder of what we’ve endured — the car crash, the hospital — Rylin.

My heart aches at the thought of my little girl; at the memory of her wide, silent eyes the first time they brought her to me after I woke.

Her face was empty, completely devoid of emotion, and it broke whatever part of me was still intact.

She still hasn’t spoken a word since Austin tried to take everything from us.

Truthfully, I’m not entirely convinced he didn’t succeed. Her silence is deafening.

As we reach the door, Luca lowers me into a wheelchair, giving my hand one last squeeze. “Paige is waiting for us at home.” Home.

When we reach the elevator, I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the polished doors.

The woman staring back at me might as well be a stranger — pale, thinner than I remember, with eyes that seem too large for her face.

I look away quickly. Not wanting to see any more of the broken shell of a woman I’ve become.

It’s not long before we’re pulling up in front of the familiar two-story home. Paige is standing on the porch, her face lighting up the moment she sees us. She rushes down the stairs and before I can even fully step out of Luca’s truck, she has me wrapped up in a tight embrace.

“You scared the shit out of us,” she says. I pull back, taking in her glassy eyes and red nose.

“Don’t you dare cry. I can’t do any more of that right now,” I warn. She laughs, and it settles something inside me. “Where’s my girl?”

A sullen expression crosses her features, but it’s gone in a flash. “She’s inside waiting for you.”

As I step over the threshold, the familiar warmth and scent of home surrounds me.

Rylin is in the living room, silently clinging to her favorite blanket, Hazel curled up beside her on the sofa.

Her eyebrows shoot up when she sees me and she stands up slowly, as if she’s unsure if she can approach.

It shatters my heart to see her like this, all of the brightness snuffed out of her.

“Rylin, love,” I say softly, my voice trembling as I move closer.

She doesn’t say anything as she takes a tentative step in my direction, her eyes locked on mine.

I kneel down, opening my arms for her, and after a moment, she rushes into them, burying her face in my shoulder as her small body starts to shake, racked with silent sobs.

All I can do is cry with her, attempting to whisper reassuring words that I’m not sure even I believe.

“It’s okay, Ry Ry. Mommy’s here. I’m here. We’re going to be okay.”

But even as I say the words, I wonder if they’re enough — if I’m enough. Because the truth is, I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to be strong when I feel so broken.