Page 6 of Nineteen Letters

“I’m sorry, Mr Spencer. This is the part of my job that I hate the most. If you like, I can take you to her.”

“Please.”

This can’t be happening.

Less than two hours ago, I was making love to my wife and looking forward to not only our evening together, but our future. We were going to start a family. But now, in the blink of an eye, every hope and every dream we’ve shared seems uncertain.

My eyelids close as I rest my head against the seat in the back of the police car. I’ve never been the praying type, but that’s exactly what I’m doing in this moment. I’d do anything to save my girl.Anything.

I feel numb.

Please, God, let her be okay. Just let her be okay.

“Braxton,” I hear as I pace in the small room I was shoved into when I arrived at the hospital. I feel like I’m going out of my mind as I wait for answers, for news, for anything. My head snaps up as Jemma’s mother, Christine, comes barrelling into the room. “Oh, Braxton,” she cries as she collapses into my arms and sobs hysterically against my chest.

Jemma is her only child, so of course she is distressed, but I’m trying so hard to hold myself together here, and this is not helping.

I don’t even remember the drive to the hospital. It’s like I’m on autopilot and I can’t seem to get my thoughts straight. I vaguely remember the officer asking me if there was anyone I should contact when we arrived.“Her parents,”I mumbled. Apart from me, they’re all she has.

The universe couldn’t be so cruel as to take her away from me when our life together as husband and wife has only just begun. Could it?

“Is there any news?” Christine asks as she pulls away from me. “They won’t tell me anything.”

“I’ve had no news yet.”

After the nurse guided me into this room, she said the doctor would be in to see me shortly, but since then there’s been nothing. Not a damn word.

I check my watch and see it has only been twenty minutes, but it feels like an eternity. In this moment, everything I hold dear is hanging by a thread.

Minutes later, the door flies open again. My heartbeat climbs to a dangerous level. I don’t know if I’m ready. As much as I need to know how she is, I cling to the premise that no news is good news.

I’m flooded with relief when I see Jemma’s father, Stephen, standing near the doorway looking sombre and breathless.

“What are you doing here?” Christine snaps as her eyes narrow.

These two once had a marriage I envied; now they can’t stand to be in the same room. Well, Christine can’t stand to be in the same room as Stephen. We had to sit them at opposite sides of the room at our wedding reception. Jemma’s mother threatened not to attend if she was seated anywhere near him.

It’s hard to witness what this animosity does to Jem; she loves her parents and hates being brought into the middle of their drama. It’s ludicrous. Stephen messed up, but he’s remorseful for what he did. He’s a good man. I’ve always liked him. I’m not condoning what he did—he made a mistake, a huge one—but Christine played a hand in it as well, and it’s not fair that she’s making us all suffer. Especially now; now is the time to focus on Jem.

“She’s my daughter too, Chris. I have a right to be here.”

“Huh,” she huffs.

Stepping back from Jemma’s mother, I walk towards her father and shake his hand. “No word yet. Hopefully, the doctor will be able to tell us something soon.”

He bows his head. “She’s my little girl … my pumpkin,” he whispers.

I have to fight back my own tears as I watch him.She has to be okay. I can’t even fathom any other outcome.

Chapter 3

Braxton

“Ican’t stand this,” I mumble under my breath as I push through the doors and head out into the corridor to find a nurse, or a doctor—anyone who can give me answers. I also need a break from those two.

Christine is slumped in a chair, crying. Stephen tried to comfort her at one stage, but the daggers she shot him had him retreating to the corner of the room. She’s hurting—we all are. None of us know what condition Jemma’s in, but I know she’s going to need all our love and support. She hates what has become of her once tight-knit family, and their constant bickering would just upset her.

I head straight for the first counter I see, and force out a small smile when the nurse looks up from the computer screen in front of her.