“Gee.” I laugh. “Thanks for that. And what if we have a girl?”
Syd moves her head so that it’s resting on my shoulder. “Bean.”
Now I wonder if she’s had too much sun. “You want to name our daughter Bean? You hate that I call you that.”
The name has evolved as we have. When we were kids, she was jumping all the time and always bouncing around, so Jimmy called her a jumping bean. It bugged her, so naturally, I called her it as a way to torture her like eight-year-old boys do. Then, when she was about twelve, she was taller than most of the girls and flat, so Sean was being a dick and told her she looked like a string bean. Eventually, she just became my bean. Always changing, growing into something more beautiful than the last thing, and it stuck.
Still, she hates it.
“But you love it.”
“Well, I love you.”
She lifts her chin just a bit, a devilish smirk playing on her lips. “And you’ll love our bean.”
A noise causes me to jerk awake, and the dream fades away when I see that she isn’t smiling at me. A nurse walks in, a soft smile on her face when she sees I’m up. It’s the same one from last night. Sophie is her name.
“How’s our patient doing? Any changes?”
“No. Was I out for a while?”
She nods. “I came and checked on her about two hours ago, and you were asleep. You must be exhausted.”
Shit. What if she moved? What if I missed something? I shift closer to her, touching her face, but she doesn’t stir.
“I’m tired, but I’m more worried.”
“I understand that. We’re doing everything we can.”
Everything except figuring out why the hell she isn’t waking up. I’m doing my best to stay patient, but with each hour that passes, my hope dwindles. If we knew what it was … if we could fix it … then I would feel better. This crushing helplessness is what’s killing me.
“If she would just wake up …”
“Well, I’ve been a nurse a long time, and it’s always a mystery to me, these things.” She checks the bags of fluids and then the monitors. “The body sometimes doesn’t respond when the heart and mind do. Keep talking to her,” she urges. “Let her soul hear everything you want to say, and see if she can’t get her body to respond. I’ll be back in an hour.” Sophie pats my shoulder and then leaves us alone.
I’ve talked for what feels like an eternity, but there’s still so much I have left to say, so I move onto the edge of her bed. She’s so beautiful. Even like this, she takes my breath away. I lift my hand and run my fingers along her jaw, her soft skin reminding me of just how fragile she is. I brush my thumb across her lips and have to fight back the tears that threaten to overwhelm me.
“It’s been almost twenty years since I’ve cried,” I tell her. “Nothing has meant enough to me to cause them to fall. I haven’t allowed myself to love anything enough, and yet, here I am, wanting to break down and lose my mind. The idea of losing you, Sydney … it’s too much. You and Deacon are all I want to be worthy of.” I recall the dream I had, her smile, her voice, the happiness at the idea of building a family with me. “I dreamed we were kids again, lying on the grass, talking about having a life. We deserve another chance, Syd. Even if you turn me away when you wake up, I’ll keep coming back. I’ll do whatever I have to do to prove that you’re my choice. You’re what I want. You asked me to chase you, and I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth if that’s what it takes.”
My heart is pounding as I bare myself to her, hoping that somehow, she hears it and fights to come back to me.
“You need to shower,” Connor shoves a bag of clothes at me and points in the direction of the hotel. “You’re not doing anyone any good refusing to eat, shower, or leave her bedside unless Sierra or Ellie want to visit.”
We’re standing outside the hospital after he dragged me out to get some fresh air—not that I wanted or needed it.
“Fuck you,” I snap at him. “You haven’t been watching Ellie lie there for three days not responding, moving, or answering your pleas and praying to God for her to just open her eyes!”
“No, I haven’t been, but you’re not going to change things by running yourself into the ground. When’s the last time you slept?”
I glare and huff. “I don’t know.”
“Ate something?”
I move away from him, needing to work off my anger. “Let this go, Connor.”
“That’s what I thought. Sydney is going to wake up, and it would be preferable if she didn’t gag when she smells you. Take a fucking shower, shave, eat a meal, and come back when you look like yourself. This”—he points at my face—“isn’t okay.”
Anger that was simmering beneath the surface starts to boil. “How easy for you to judge me!”
“I’m not judging you, I’m helping you!”
“Helping? How? By ordering me away from her? What if she wakes up? What if she looks for me, and I’m not there like I haven’t been for the past eight years. She’s all that fucking matters!”
Connor lifts his hands and purses his lips. “And that’s great. I’m glad you finally figured all this out, but the fact remains that you need to get your shit together. Now, go to the hotel and clean yourself up.”
My breathing is heavy as I ball my fists. “I’m not leaving her.”
“Well, we’re not letting you back in that room.”
I move toward him, and Connor straightens his back. “You’re angry? Good. You’ll
