Lily's Mistake(27)

I close my eyes as my tears fall down my face. I pray, drowning the  rushed scuttle of their voices and movements, not wanting to hear any of  it as they try to bring his lifeless body back to life.

"Please, please! Hear me. Give Drake his life back. Don't take him from me. I love him. Please …  Hear me … "

I tense when I feel a strong hand on my arm. "Mrs. Tatum?" I don't even  think to correct him that I'm not Mrs. Tatum because I wish I was now.

My misty eyes flutter open and connect to the worried face of the doctor. How I wish I was now. Fuck! My stomach drops.

"No! NO! NO!" I scream and fall on the floor when my legs give out.

The doctor and a couple nurses help me into the chair. "He's alive. We  managed to bring him back. The nurses will be back to check again with  his progress and get more scans from him." I merely nod in my dazed  state.

When they've all left, I stare at Drake's body. I'm scared to reach out  and touch him, just in case he dies again. I don't think I could endure  it if he dies when I touch him a second time. So, I stay in my seat, on  edge. After an hour of nurses going in and out of the room, they wheel  him out to get CT scans. I didn't realize I fell asleep until a  stranger's voice wakes me.

"Miss Lily?"

I blink a few times before I focus on the warm smile of the nurse before  me. When she sees my questioning look, she smiles wider. "He's awake.  He's been asking for you."

I suddenly stand up and look over. When the nurse leaves, I slowly walk over to the bed.

"Drake?" I shakily whisper his name.

Drake slowly turns his head, groaning. "Lil," he mumbles without opening his eyes.

He's really awake! My Drake is awake!

In that instant, I go and cry on his chest. Bawling and howling my  sorrows. "God, I'm so sorry for being so awful. I'm sorry." I slowly  lift my upper body, scolding myself for being stupid. His chest is  probably hurting after what it has gone through, my heavy head doesn't  need to add to the problem.

"Shhh, don't cry, Babe." Drake slowly lifts his eyelids, his eyes a little glazed over.

"I'm sorry." I sniff and give him a smile.

His weak hand reaches out to me and cups my face as he slowly wipes my  tears away. I close my eyes, loving the brush of his hand on me. "I love  you, Lil. It was the only thing I could think about before the car  crashed. I was thinking that I didn't get the chance to tell you how  much I love you." His voice is paper-thin and hoarse.

I hold his hand against my face and kiss it. "I love you, Drake. I have  never stopped loving you. When I spoke those words eight years ago, I  meant them. It hasn't changed."

He gives me a weak smile before he closes his eyes. "Stay with me,  please? I want you close." Drake lightly coughs, his breathing ragged.

I wouldn't dare move even if the President asked it of me. "Always. I  will be here, next to you." I pull a chair up and place it next to his  bed. I hold his hand the whole time while I watch him breathe in and  out.

Once in a while, Drake squeezes my hand, but keeps his eyes shut. I bet  the drugs they gave him are powerful. Whatever helps him rest and heal.

Emotionally exhausted and pregnant, it doesn't take long for me to fall asleep with his hand against my cheek.





24



"Sweetie, you have to eat something." Patricia urges me to eat the lunch they brought in.

All three scrambled back here when they were informed about what  happened with Drake. Hugh and my mom are at the connecting private  lounge, but I stick next to Drake because I promised that I would stay  close and because I don't want to be anywhere else. My place is with  him. It always has been. It was only a matter of time until he and I  realized that.         

     



 

"Do you mind just bringing the food in here with me? I don't want to  leave his side." Patricia smiles sadly at me. Dark circles and frown  lines that were not there a few days ago are now evident on her  beautiful face.

"I will sit with my son and wait until you are done. Please, you're pregnant. You can't risk both of your lives as well.

With difficultly, I finally let go of Drake's hand and get up from my  chair. Patricia takes my seat. I hear her speaking softly to her son  before I leave the room, exhausted.

"Hugh just stepped out to take care of some business. I have your  prenatal vitamins and some other stuff that you need." Mom gives me the  much needed vitamins. I down one with a bottled orange juice.

When she presents me with a gourmet sandwich, I barely manage to swallow  the tiny bites I make, but I do, for the baby. I don't even care how  the food tastes. Everything is automated. I just want to get it over  with so that I can go back to Drake.

"How are you feeling?" my mother asks. I'm sure she is referring to the  scary shock of my life earlier when Drake died for a few minutes.

I stare at the bottled juice that sits on the table before me. How am I  feeling? I feel like I've been dragged to Hell and back. There are no  words to describe how I am feeling. The man I love died for a few  minutes. Where do I even begin with all of that?

After a few minutes of just staring into space while flashbacks run  through my head, I finally look at my mom and see that she has tears in  her eyes. "Thank you for being here. I love you."

Mom comes over and gives me a tight hug, sniffing. "Be strong. Drake will recover. He's young and he's a stubborn man at that."

I cry in her arms. My mother's smell and comfort give me strength and  new found bravery. If there is another person who understands what I'm  going through, it's my mom. Before my father died, she held it together  even though the pain was written all over her face. I cry until I had no  more tears left. When I come up for air, she urges me to wash my face  before returning to sit next to Drake. "You'll feel better when you  freshen up, trust me."

And it does help. Not a whole lot, but it helps me feel a little lighter inside.





It's around three in the afternoon when the doctor comes into the room.  He introduces himself as Dr. Readings. He's a man in his late fifties  with salt and pepper hair, kind eyes and a warm sympathetic smile.

He faces Patricia and Hugh before he speaks. "We found several blood  clots in Drake. They're travelling upwards and we want to operate  quickly before it turns into a pulmonary embolism. If it reaches his  lungs before we get to it, his chances of survival are slim."

Is he serious? Hasn't Drake gone through enough? Another surgery? What  if that will cause an infection or another complication, what then?

Patricia body starts to shake and she sags in the chair. Watching how  his wife looks like she has lost a battle, Hugh takes charge. "When can  you schedule the operation? I want it done as soon as possible. I think  we can all agree that my only son has gone through Hell for the last two  days. Do what you have to do. I expect to have the best of the best on  the operating team for my son. Do you have recommendations for doctors  to be flown in?"

"I can actually recommend another doctor to operate with me. I am highly  qualified, but I want another qualified doctor in there with me. I will  give him a call right away and hopefully we can schedule it later this  evening. I will get back to you shortly." The doctor excuses himself  before Patricia and Mom start crying again.

Another operation.

How the hell am I going to survive another one?

Fuck! When it rains, it really pours, hard, with no concession.

After an hour, the doctor confirms that the specialist is on board and  should be here around six that night. The emergency operation is  scheduled for seven.

I feel like a crying zombie.

My eyes just keep weeping and there's no stopping it. The well of tears doesn't stop while I sit next to Drake's sleeping body.

My head falls flat on the bed, exhausted. I'm pleasantly woken up with  soft, gentle strokes on my cheek. My face feels crusty after crying.

"Hey …  you're crying again," I hear Drake whisper sadly.

Still sleepy, I manage to lift my head and meet his silver eyes. "I can't help it."

Drake tries to give me a reassuring smile, but fails miserably. "They're  going to wheel me out in twenty minutes to prep me for the operation."

I still. Damn, I slept for hours! Fuck!

Drake's throat bobs a few times before his hoarse voice gives me  infinite dread. I start to shiver. "Just in case I don't survive-" he  starts, but I cover his dry lips with my fingers, hushing him.         

     



 

"No. Don't think like that. You will survive this. You're a fighter.  Don't give up on me …  or the baby. Please," I beg. I watch as his face  contorts with pain.

"I will try, Lil. You know I will, but this is beyond my control." He  reaches for my hand and lightly tugs me closer to place my head on his  chest. When he speaks again, he's choked up with tears, too. "I don't  want to die. I want to see you swell with my baby. I want to see my  child being born into this world. I want to share that joy with you. I  wish that more than anything. You must believe me." His voice shakes and  it takes him another minute to speak again while I listen to his  erratic heartbeat.