Page 11 of Nineteen Letters

We have never gone to sleep without saying those words to each other.

Chapter 5

Braxton

Ipace back and forth in the corridor because today is the day. The doctor and two nurses are in with my wife now. The swelling on her brain has subsided, so they’re going to start the process of bringing her out of the coma. They’ll also take her off the machines that have been helping to keep her alive. I should be feeling relieved, but I’m not—I’m extremely anxious. As positive as I’m trying to remain, there’s still no guarantee she will pull through.

Christine, Stephen and Lucas are all sitting down watching me. I’m sure I’m making them feel uneasy, but I can’t stay still. My stomach is in knots.

“Braxton!” I look up and see Rachel, Jemma’s best friend, running towards me.

Rachel moved to New York for work just over a year ago, but there was no doubt in my mind that she would come home once she found out about the accident. She and Jemma are as close as sisters. That’s why I waited until the day after the accident to call her. I didn’t want her flying back here unnecessarily. She was only here three weeks ago, to be Jemma’s maid of honour at our wedding.

My heart hurts when I think back to the day we picked her up from the airport. She and Jemma Skype each week but they hadn’t seen each other for nearly a year. The moment Rachel emerged from Customs, Jemma had dropped my hand to run to her. They held each other and cried.

Arriving this time must have been hard for her, for such a different reason and with nobody to greet her. But my mind has been clouded with worry and I just didn’t think to organise somebody to collect her.

No words are spoken as she collapses into my arms and sobs. I can feel her body trembling, or maybe it’s mine, I’m not sure. All I know is that I’m exhausted, frightened and struggling to keep it together.

“How is she?” she asks looking up at me through her tears.

She has been texting me over the past few days for updates during her travel. My reply was always the same:No change. Critical yet stable.That’s all I could tell her. It has been a waiting game for all of us.

“The doctor’s with her now. The swelling’s gone down, so they’re going to bring her out of the coma.”

The doctor spoke to me at length before he went in. They’ve stopped the drugs that they’ve been using to keep her comatose, but will continue with the fluids, and the pain medication to help keep her comfortable. It could take anywhere from twelve to seventy-two hours for her to fully wake.

I just want this nightmare to be over.

Many hours have passed and there’s still no sign of her waking. At least the tube that was helping her breathe has been removed from her mouth. The bruising and swelling on the right side of her face has gone down. Although she looks far from the Jemma I know, I’m grateful that I can already see an improvement.

Over the past four days, I was asked to leave the room while they dressed her wounds, so I’m yet to see what lies underneath all those bandages. I’m not sure I want to.

Apart from that, I haven’t left her side. Christine has been trying her best not to antagonise Stephen, but in my opinion, she could try harder. They’ve been alternating their time spent in the room with Lucas and Rachel. The rules are different in the ICU. They rarely allow more than one person in the room at a time, but they have made an exception for us. Christine has paired up with Rachel, and Lucas with Stephen. I’m somewhat relieved that Jemma’s parents have been split up; it’s just easier for everyone.

When evening falls, I encourage them all to go home and get some rest. I don’t leave … I can’t. Christine protests at first, but Rachel eventually convinces her it’s for the best. She will stay with Christine while she’s here. Christine loves Rachel like a daughter, so I’m happy they will have each other for support. Having Rachel here will free me up so I can put my efforts into getting my wife well again. Christine doesn’t drive, so when Stephen moved out of the family home, running her around was always left to Jem and me.

I’m sitting by the bed with Jemma’s hand wrapped in mine when one of the night nurses enters the room. “Mr Spencer,” she says with a nod. “I’m surprised to see you’re still awake.”

I give her a half-hearted smile. There’s no denying that I’m tired; I’m struggling to keep my eyes open, but I don’t want to go to sleep in case Jemma regains consciousness. She’ll be confusedand scared, wondering where she is and how she got here. I need to be awake so I can put her mind at ease.

“It could take a few days.”

“I know,” is my only reply.

“You’re a good man, Mr Spencer. Your wife’s lucky to have you.”

“I feel like I’m the lucky one.”

“Is there anything I can get you before I leave?”

“No. I’m fine, thank you.”

“Try to get some rest. I’ll be checking on your wife every hour, so if there’s any change in her condition, I’ll wake you.”

“Thank you.”

It’s fifteen minutes past midnight when she leaves. That means it has been almost fourteen hours since the doctors stopped the drugs that were keeping her unconscious. I can’t sleep now. It might take days, but there’s also the possibility that she’ll wake at any moment.