Yvette has been having awful nightmares.
I wasn’t intending to sleep in the same bed with her. It felt wrong when I was in a relationship with someone else. But I couldn’t leave her alone and listen to her scream like that. I had to hold her and try to help calm her down. So that is what I am doing now—holding her all night so that she can sleep well.
The physical therapist informed us that many patients who required lengthy stays on a ventilator suffered from PTSD. That it was a traumatic experience for the mind, in addition to the body. That she would need constant care and assistance for months to recover to even a fraction of her previous health.
I am committed to doing all I can to help her feel better. I can’t stand hearing her yell at invisible demons and cry all night. So, I stay with her 24/7, as much as I can when I’m not working… and I put my phone aside. Even though I know I’m hurting Milla. I can feel how much I’m hurting her, and I’m afraid I’m going to lose her. But this is what I need to do.
I still can’t process all the recent changes in my life.
My beautiful wife is finally back home, here with me.
In the beautiful home I purchased to make her happy all those years ago. It only took a near-death experience for her to miss me, I guess. Thinking about everything makes me want a cigarette. But I don’t smoke anymore. I will not do that.
I love Evie so much—I always have. But we’re not good together. Maybe in a crisis, like this moment, we work well. Because we put aside all the petty crap that has always gotten between us. But I’m scared about what happens when she recovers. I have this sick feeling that once she’s better, once she no longer needs my love and support to survive… she will get up and pack her suitcase and leave me again. Like she always does.
And I will have already pushed Milla away, from barely speaking to her this whole time—I will lose both of the women I love. That’s what happens when you love two people at the same time, without being able to give 100% to either one—you can end up losing them both.
“Stop hurting me,” Yvette gasps suddenly, her body jerking in her sleep. “Stop it.”
“Shhh, it’s okay,” I tell her soothingly. I wrap my arm around her in a protective way. “It’s just a dream.”
“Gabe,” she says, crying softly.
“Who was hurting you?” I ask her.
She shudders. “It’s so awful. It’s just flashes of memories from when I was on the ventilator. I don’t know what’s real and what’s my imagination.”
“Maybe it would help if you told me about it.”
She stares into space for a few seconds. Then she seems to remember where she is, and remembers my question. She shakes her head in refusal. “Non. C’est trop horrible.”
“English, please,” I remind her gently.
“Oh, right. Sorry. I forgot that you’re going to be a fancy Harvard professor soon.” She smiles at me and plays with a button on my shirt. I know she is just happy that she can easily use her hands again—her physical strength has returned a lot since she’s been home. I hope she will only keep getting stronger.
In case you’re wondering why we’re speaking in English, and why my thoughts are all in English, it’s because it makes me feel closer to Milla when she is so far away. It makes me feel like I’m doing something to prepare for being beside her when I work on my English. Even if most of my outward actions seem like I’m choosing Yvette, or focusing all my time and energy on my current wife—I keep Milla secretly inside my mind at all times. Buried deep in the back of my thoughts.
I told Yvette that I am considering a job offer at Harvard, which is actually true—I’ve applied to work at a few Ivy League universities in America. I’ve asked my wife to help me practice my English, since she’s lived and worked in the U.S. for so long. Her language skills are way better than mine. My English is good—I don’t sound like a cat being skinned alive, but it’s not Harvard good. Or Columbia good. I am hoping to polish it up and add some refinement before I need ever need to live or work abroad.
I actually think it could be wonderful for my career. And for my future family…
When my phone rings, I already know who it is. Only one person would call me at this hour.
“Do you need to get that?” Yvette asks. But I see the look in her face that says she needs me to stay beside her. She looks terrified that I will leave, and she will be left alone with those nightmares again.
“No, it’s okay,” I tell her. I tighten my arms around her and kiss her forehead. Poor Evie has been through so much. I hope Milla will understand. My heart aches not to answer her phone call—but I’ve never seen Evie so unwell, both physically and emotionally.
I miss Milla. But I’ve made promises and vows to Yvette, and that matters to me.
That is important to my sense of identity, who I am as a man. I don’t like to leave or abandon someone I care about—even if she abandoned me. I know I wasn’t an easy person to deal with when I was young, and I know I put Yvette through hell. I know she had every reason to leave.
I said in sickness and in health, and I meant it.
But I also said until death do we part… and I’m not sure how I feel about that anymore.
Chapter 27
I’ve been pacing back and forth in the cold night air for what seems like hours. Texting Camilla with frozen hands. Arguing about all this.
