The first was from Marie. Apparently, Gabi wasn't willing to see her-and I didn't blame her now that I knew the truth. She couldn't do much and had suggested I head to the hospital to take care of things. The next one was from Dr. Greiner. He suggested I visit the hospital to discuss the next steps of Gabi's treatment. I didn't want to go, but I knew at some point, I'd have to. All I could think about was going home, taking a shower, changing my clothes, and then spending the rest of the day with Eden; however, it didn't seem as though I had much of an option.
On the way to the condo, I made a stop by the hospital, hoping to get everything squared away quickly. Although, I hadn't taken into account the early morning hour and that the person I needed to speak with wasn't in yet. I was told she'd be in shortly and to wait in the meantime. It wasn't what I wanted to do. I didn't want to be there in the first place, let alone hang around. But it beat having to make another trip back later in the day. I knew once I had Eden in my arms, I wouldn't be able to let her go in order to handle Gabi's medical issues.
So, I waited.
I was on my third cup of vending machine coffee when someone finally opened the waiting room door.
"Mr. Kauffmann?" A young nurse came in with an easy smile and gentle eyes. "Gabriella is awake. I told her you were here and she's asking for you."
I dropped my chin to keep her from seeing the disappointment in my eyes. It wasn't her fault. I knew that. There was no way she could've known the problems between Gabi and me and why I was so nervous to see her. Nonetheless, I became aggravated and didn't want to take it out on her. She was only doing her job.
"I can take you to see her if you'd like. The visit needs to be kept short. She's weak and needs her rest, but I'm sure she'd love to see a friendly face." Her voice was so soft and kind, which made it difficult to turn her invitation down.
If Gabi wanted to see me, then I would go to her.
Though I wasn't sure she'd be happy once I left.
I nodded and stood, keeping my eyes trained on the white floor as my tired feet followed the nurse. She paused outside the closed door and offered me a sympathetic grin. It would've been enough to ease my mind had it been anyone other than Gabi on the other side. I wasn't sure anything would've been able to calm me down, or settle my emotions-emotions I couldn't discern no matter how hard I tried.
I wasn't upset with Gabi. I was disheartened. The fact she'd done something to harm herself made my chest ache, but what made it worse were all the facts I'd learned about where it all started. I'd refused to hear her out. My anger had led her here, and I had a hard time releasing that guilt. At the same time, her inability to tell me the truth for years wasn't on me. I wouldn't take the blame for that. And that's where my confusion lay-trapped between fault, when there shouldn't have been any in the first place.
Human error.
Human emotion.
Blame. Guilt. Grief.
They didn't mix well with a man who wanted to take care of everyone.
"She's alert, but very fragile. All we ask is that you don't get her worked up. She's on medicine to keep her calm and relaxed, but she's still coherent. I'll let you know as soon as the doctor comes in so you can speak with him about where to go from here." Again, the corners of her mouth turned up just enough to offer some comfort, and then she walked away.
The door felt heavy as I opened it. I knew that wasn't the case, but my nerves and hesitation made it seem like it weighed two hundred pounds. Gabi lay in the middle of the single bed, her attention set out the window across the room. As soon as she heard me step inside, she turned her head and landed her sights on me. Immediately, tears began to fill her eyes and trickle down her cheeks, though she made no noise. No sobs, whimpers, sniffles … nothing. She just lay there, the sheet fisted in her hands, her face scrunched in pain, and watched me as I stood in the doorway.
"Gabi … " I whispered, unsure what to say to her. I had no idea how I would feel after seeing her, but I hadn't expected this kind of emotion. Pain. Heartache. Utter despair. It was as if I'd been taken back more than ten years to when I'd visited her in the hospital during Sean's trial. Like then, she was alone, lost, and completely broken.
Without thought, my feet carried me to the side of her bed. I took the empty chair and leaned forward to take her hand. Her stare never left mine, and I couldn't look away. I didn't have the strength to observe anything else in the room. Her brown eyes were void of life, more so than before. I thought I'd seen her at her worst … but now I realize she had only been on the brink of destruction. This was her rock bottom. I wanted to tell myself there was only one way for her to go from here-up. But I knew that wasn't true. This was the second time she had attempted to take her life. I feared what would happen if she tried it again.
"I'm so sorry, Dane," she cried softly, her words barely audible.
I shushed her and tried to calm her with gentle strokes to her forehead. "I don't understand, Gabi. Why would you do this?"
She rolled her head to face the ceiling and then closed her eyes, tears leaking down the sides of her face. "I just want to give up. I have nothing to fight for anymore. You wouldn't listen to me. I tried to explain it to you, but you wouldn't let me. I called you-over and over again-but you wouldn't answer." She tilted her head enough to look me in the eyes. "You left me, Dane. I have nothing without you."
"That's not true."
"What do I have?"
I ran my thumb over the back of her hand and took a deep breath. "I don't know, because you've never given yourself a chance to find out. After the assault, you just shut down. You closed yourself off from everything. You went with me to Tallahassee, but instead of going to school, you played the role of a stay-at-home wife. We came home, where you could've gotten a job, but you chose not to."
"What was I supposed to do?" She raised her voice, showing signs of agitation. I knew she needed to calm down, but I wasn't sure I was the right person to do that. "I couldn't go to school. I didn't have any money and I had no clue what I would've even studied. And I tried to get a job as a cashier after we moved back, but you told me I didn't have to."
I adjusted in the seat until I was on the edge of the cushion, my elbows propped on the mattress. "You know I was more than happy supporting you. I only wanted you to feel safe. All I needed was for you to do what made you happy, because you weren't. You offered to get a job to help with the bills, and I told you I didn't need that from you. But that didn't mean I wouldn't support you doing something for yourself. I had suggested art classes, book clubs because you loved to read so much. Gabi … there were so many things you could've done for you. That's all I wished for. Because I never wanted you to be here-lost, lonely, feeling like you didn't have a purpose in the world. You do. You just haven't found it yet."
"You never understood."
"You're right … I didn't understand. Because you never gave me the chance to. I know what happened, Gabi. I know everything. I saw your mom the other day after the hospital called to tell me you were here. She told me about Todd and how Sean ended up taking the fall for what he did to you. But I understand now. It's not too late for you."
"Yes it is. There's nothing anyone can do to help me."
"That's where you're wrong." I tried to keep my tone soft and even, but it was hard when I found myself so irritated with her refusal to acknowledge she could get help. She could have something more. "It doesn't take a professional to see why you've been battling depression for so long. On top of the abuse you had to suffer-not only from Todd, but the emotional and mental abuse from your own mother not protecting you-you've had to deal with this guilt alone. You never had to do that. You could've come to me with the truth. But that's neither here nor there. Now you can do something about it. Talk to your doctors. Tell them what really happened so they can help you deal with the real problem, not just the effects from it. You can't treat the depression if you're not treating the cause."
She licked her lips, like I'd seen her do so many times before. No matter how many times her tongue ran over them, they remained cracked and dry. A tear clung to her chin, pulling my attention away from her mouth long enough to watch her wipe it away with her free hand. The white bandage around her wrist caught my attention for the first time. It caused my chest to clench, my heart to squeeze tight, and my lungs to cease. The guilt came flooding back in full force, reminding me she wouldn't be here, in this bed, bandages on her wrist had I only let her explain when she'd begged me to listen.