Page 9 of Nineteen Letters

The nurse stops walking and turns to face me when we reach Jemma’s room. My heart is beating so fast I can hear the thumping in my ears. There’s a sympathetic smile on her face.

“This is your wife’s room, Mr Spencer.”

“Thank you.”

I turn and nod to Jemma’s parents. No words would be enough to comfort any of us in this moment. Christine’s sad eyes meet mine, and she manages to force a smile as she reaches out to rub her hand down my arm. This is the caring and nurturing woman I love and miss.

“Good luck,” she says. “We’ll be out here waiting if you need us.”

I pause in the doorway and steady myself.I can do this. Willing my legs to move, I take a step forward, followed by another.

My breath hitches in my throat the moment my eyes land on Jemma. My knees threaten to give way underneath me as I approach the bed. The person lying before me doesn’t even resemble my wife.

I’m not sure what I expected to see when I walked in here, but it certainly wasn’t this. The white sterile sheets are pulled up under her chin, so I can only see her bruised and battered face. She’s hooked up to several machines, and a large white tube protrudes from her mouth.

I stand and stare for the longest time, afraid to go closer. It’s a surreal feeling. Never in my life did I think I’d have to face anything like this. The right side of her face and forehead are heavily bandaged. I immediately divert my eyes away from the dried blood I see caked in her hair. I can’t bear it.

Her face is so swollen she’s barely recognisable. I can’t even describe how much it hurts to see her like this.

There’s a chair sitting by the wall. I make my way towards it and drag it to Jemma’s bedside. The left side of her is still perfect,still her. Tears rise to my eyes as I gently run the tip of my fingers down the left side of her pretty face.

I promised myself before coming in here that I would remain strong, but I’m so overcome with sadness I no longer can. I’m so scared. Leaning forward, I place my lips softly on her cheek. She’s so lifeless, so pale, and her skin feels cold against my mouth.

Reaching under the blanket, I fold her hand in mine.

I want to wrap her in my arms and beg her to get better, but I’m too afraid I’ll hurt her further.

I’ve spent my entire life caring for and protecting this woman, but the one time she needed me most, I wasn’t there. Logically, I know there’s nothing I could have done to avoid this. None of us could have seen it coming, but it doesn’t lessen the guilt that I’m feeling.

The officer’s words from this morning echo in my mind.“All I can tell you is the car she was travelling in was T-boned after driving through a stop sign.”

“Jem,” I whisper against her skin. “I need you, baby. Don’t leave me.” I can taste the saltiness of my tears as they stream down my face. “Fight for us … fight for you. Justfight.”

My heart aches as I rest my forehead against her, unmoving for the longest time. Even this simple contact gives me strength, and I can only hope it gives Jem strength too.

I’m startled when I feel a hand rest on my shoulder. I look up to find the nurse beside me. “Mrs Spencer’s parents would like to come in and see their daughter now.”

“Okay,” I say, leaning back into my chair and wiping the tears from my face with my free hand.

“You can come back in once they’ve seen her.”

I wait until she leaves the room before leaning forward again. “Your parents are here to see you,” I whisper. “I’ll be right outside. I’m not going anywhere.” I brush my lips against her cheek and gently release her hand as I stand. “I love you.”

My heart feels shattered as I leave the room. I pass Christine in the doorway. She reaches for my arm, but I shrug her off.

“How is she?” she asks. I shake my head in reply. I’m numb. I have no words for how she is. Christine will see for herself in a minute.

Stephen pats my back as I pass him. I know that the grim look on his face is reflected in my own. I feel bad for what they’re about to see. Jemma has always been their little girl. Seeing her in this condition won’t be easy.

“Braxton.” I glance over my shoulder as I walk towards the line of chairs positioned along the wall.Lucas.No words are spoken as he comes to a stop in front of me and pulls me into his arms, holding me tight. He has never hugged me like this before, but I’m too grateful to feel awkward. I need something, anything, to hold me together right now. “She’s going to pull through this, bud.”

I’m so glad he’s here.

I pull out my phone when I feel it vibrate in my pocket. I see it’s a text from Jemma’s friend Rachel. She’s on a flight from New York as we speak.

“Why don’t you go home for a few hours and get some rest,” Stephen says, placing his hand on my shoulder. “You look like crap.”

“Geez, thanks.”