Authors: Bella Love-Wins
ABBY had a long day at work, made longer because she accepted overtime hours in the emergency ward. She was already a registered nurse, and the administrators loved her versatility—they probably also loved that she was single and willing to take on the hours with no notice, too. She had worked until after eleven at night. It had turned into a grueling sixteen hour shift. Her body was not used to it yet. Exhausted, she drove right home and parked her car.
It felt like her heart stopped. She saw Andrew’s limousine. What was he doing here? After he acted like such a jerk yesterday, she didn’t want to speak to him. She took her things from the back seat and locked up. She couldn’t bear to talk to him again, so she walked right past the limo, assuming he was inside.
Shit!
He was not. She walked to her front door and he was sitting on the steps, waiting there for her.
“Wasn’t yesterday humiliating enough, Andrew? What are you doing here?”
“Abby. I’m so sorry. If you’d give me one last chance, I’ll tell you everything, and then you can decide what you want to do.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she answered. “And you didn’t think it was a good idea yesterday, so why would it be a good idea today? What’s changed?”
“Please, do this for me. Just hear me out.”
“Can you tell me what changed? Why should I give you another chance, when I practically begged you to talk to me just yesterday, and you were so hurtful and cold?”
“Everything changed, Abby,” he answered. “I was a fool. I was wrong. Can we go inside and talk?”
She let out an exhausted breath. “You know it’s almost midnight, right? Please, just make this quick. I’ve been on my feet for sixteen hours. All I really want to do is sleep.”
“I don’t know if I can do this quickly, Abby. I need to tell you everything. I need you to hear it all tonight. I promise I’ll leave afterward. If you’d like, I can go get us some coffee to help you stay up?”
“Coffee is not going to do me any good. I’m really tired. I just want to go to bed. Are you sure you can’t wait until tomorrow morning?”
“No. I can’t. You deserve to know the truth. And I…I need to tell you now. I’m tired of waiting. I’m tired of being afraid. I’m tired of holding out on you. And I don’t want to hurt you anymore. I’m here trying to make things right. Please hear me out. Please let me tell you everything, and when I’m done, I’ll leave. I promise.”
“Okay. Just come in. Say what you need to say.”
She unlocked the door and he followed her inside. Abby placed her things on the dining table in the dim light, and walked over to turn on the lights. As she turned to face him, she started crying. The longer she looked at him, the harder the tears fell. Soon she was sobbing. He stepped toward her and took her in his arms. She let him hold her. She just couldn’t return the embrace. She kept her arms hanging beside her. He seemed genuinely concerned, but she couldn’t trust her impressions of him anymore. Not after yesterday in the limo.
“Abby…I’m sorry,” he said, pressing her body into his. “I wasn’t prepared for this. For us. And yesterday, I was an idiot. I feel horrible. I was cold and insensitive. I thought letting you go was better for you. I never meant to hurt you.”
Abby stood limply, sobbing. She had no words to reply.
ANDREW sat in the armchair when Abby pulled away. She grabbed the box of tissues and sat on the sofa. He took a deep breath and looked at her as she wiped the tear stains from her face. It was as if he was seeing her for the first time. He was such a fool for walking away from her. Thankfully, she had ben gracious enough to give him this chance. He was not going to mess this up.
He started. “Emma was my wife, and she was so much more than that. She was my best friend, my med school partner in crime, my teenage crush, my first play date as a toddler. I didn’t know a life without Emma. Our parents moved in the same New York circles. We went all the way through kindergarten, elementary school and high school together. I was the one who would pull her pigtails in grade school.
“Our interests in medicine developed around the same time. We started dating in the last year of high school. By then, everyone had already paired us up, and assumed we’d end up together, as we spent all of our free time together. Her parents were excited she had chosen to do medicine. My parents, well, you know where my dad stood.
“We started university together, and got into med school the same year. We were married a week before we started our residency. We ended up at different hospitals as residents, but by then, we lived together and saw each other whenever we weren’t working. After our residency, we found work at the same hospital. I worked in the emergency ward, and she took a position in the hospital’s center for internal medicine.
“Our life together as a married couple was difficult with the hours, but we were best friends. Nothing could come between us—not the back-to-back-to-back 12-hour shifts at the hospital, not being on call, not the conflicting schedules—none of that changed what we had. For some reason, we started the path together, and I was certain we would be together forever. But I was wrong.
“One winter night, we happened to finish up a shift together. It was rare to get off at the same time. So rare, we agreed to leave her car at the hospital, and she drove home with me that night. A winter storm had started just before we left. Freezing rain and high winds—not a good combination for us as we drove home.
“Back when we were married, our parents had bought us a house on Long Island. It was a dream for them, to see us have somewhat of a normal life, given the schedules we had as doctors. We also had a condo just blocks from the hospital. Emma had suggested that we stay in the condo overnight, but I was looking forward to a weekend away. I convinced her we could make it to Long Island that night.
“When we crossed over into Long Island, the weather turned on us. The roads were sheets of ice in spots. I was driving at a snail’s pace to get us home in one piece. After what seemed like hours, we were five minutes away. All that stood between us and our house was one bridge.
“I took it very slowly. I knew the bridge had a tendency to ice up something awful. It was not too bad that night, but I was still careful. When we were about a third of way across, it was almost impossible to drive. We were slipping and sliding around. I had no control of the car. It was so bad, I coasted to a stop and searched the trunk for winter chains. It was freezing, but I got them on eventually.
“Finally back in the car, I drove off. I had made it halfway to the other side when I noticed a car coming from the opposite direction. It was weaving and swerving in the same way our car had been doing. I stopped again, because for a moment, it looked like the driver had no control. But then his car came to a stop. Or at least it seemed like it did. That was when I drove off again. By then, there was no time to stop, or swerve, or get out of its way.
“The vehicle hit us head on. I still think about that today. If I had not stopped to put on the chains, we might have avoided that driver completely. Emma would have had her seatbelt on and we might have gotten home safely. If we had stayed at the condo near the hospital, none of this would have happened.
“After the collision, I may have blacked out for a minute or two. When I came to, I looked beside me, and Emma was not there. She had been thrown from the vehicle. She must have taken off her seatbelt while I was putting on the chains. I tried to open my door, but something was wrong with my left arm. I managed to open it with my right arm and stumbled out of the car, trying to find Emma. I think I lost it when I saw her. Before I touched her, I went back to the car and call 911.
“I looked into the other driver’s car. It was a middle-aged man driving an old Chevy truck. Maybe the airbags failed, or it’s possible the truck predated airbags. There was so much blood, and the man’s head was lifeless, resting on the steering wheel, pressing on his horn.
“I ran over to Emma and dropped to my knees beside her. She had cuts and lacerations, and her arms and one leg lay in such a precarious position, I knew they were broken in multiple spots. I tried to give her CPR, but my left arm wouldn’t work. I ran back to the car to get some blankets from the trunk and covered her with them. She was lifeless. She would not move. I tried some more CPR with one hand, which was difficult. I saw a trail of blood trickle from her forehead. I think that’s when I froze. Something about it made me notice my own arm.
“While I was putting on the chains, I was sweating, so I had taken off my winter coat. After the collision, as I tried to tend to Emma, all I had on was hospital scrubs. My arm was bloody and mangled. It seemed to hang on by just the skin and a bit of flesh. Something about it made me unable to look away.
“I don’t know how long I had been looking at it, but when I finally looked up, the paramedics were there. A fire truck had arrived as well. First on scene asked me what had happened, but I believe I was in shock. I know I told him to take care of Emma, and that the man in the car was hurt badly.
“I was so out of it when I came out to from my haze. I had repeatedly screamed it was my fault; that I was to blame. The truth was, I felt it
was
my fault, because I stopped to put on the chains. I was the one who made the decision not to stay at the condo like Emma had suggested.
“Those decisions were my fault, and on my most objective days, I can admit the accident really was no one’s fault. If there was anyone to blame, it would have been the driver of the other vehicle. He had crossed the center line and hit us head on. But really, it was Mother Nature. A sad sequence of events. Unfortunate circumstance. Bad luck.
“We were all transported in separate ambulance vehicles back to the hospital where Emma and I worked. That was also a coincidence, I think, as it turned out to be closest to the accident. There must have been ambulance chasers on scene, because before we had made it to the hospital, several news outlets had already reported the accident. One outlet had video coverage of my outburst. It had me shouting it was my fault, and the headlines all quickly changed to something like ‘medical doctor and future billionaire heir kills two’; and ‘vehicular homicide in Long Island’.
“Of course, I was the only survivor. The police had come to take my statement at the hospital. The timing was horrible. I just learned that Emma had died. And even then, I was saying I killed her, I killed her. Within a week, everything had been straightened out. It was confirmed the other driver had lost control. I was cleared. But during that week, there was one detective on a mission to destroy me. Or maybe it was the Carrington name. I don’t know. Maybe he just hated our family, or all people who had come from money. I still don’t know what his problem was.
“He was the one who suggested to the media that charges were going to be laid against me. He was one of the officers at the hospital. He had jumped the gun, but with the media frenzy, the damage had already been done. It was reported I was charged with vehicular homicide. For a short time, I believe it was true. My dad eventually got the lawyers on it. There was an apology from the NYPD. The District Attorney made a public statement that no charges had ever been laid. The news outlets retracted their stories, but it was too little too late.
“None of that mattered to me. None of it. All I cared about was Emma. Emma was gone. All the noise from the media, and the charges, and the police. That’s all it was. It was noise, far off in the distance, far away from me. I was still trying to come to terms with the fact that Emma was dead.
“My dad tried to help me. I remember my mother had phone once from Europe. Friends had phoned. My colleagues at work all tried to help me. I was referred to therapists, grief counsellors, and group counselling sessions. But it was too soon. The wounds were too fresh. I could not speak. I don’t believe I spoke during that time. If I did, it might have been screams from nightmares.
“I couldn’t function. For four months, I was a shell at my dad’s condo. He and his housekeeper were the only people who saw me. His housekeeper would make me meals, and leave them on a table near the door of my bedroom. I barely ate, but she was persistent. She would make all of my favorites.
“By the end of that time, I realized I couldn’t stay in New York anymore. I told my father I needed time. It’s that spring I came out to Lake Tahoe. The place had not been lived in for a few years. That was probably the best thing that happened to me—an entire summer working with tradesmen to bring some life back to the cottage. That was the escape that pulled me out of my helplessness. By the fall, I was better, but not much. I was functional. The distraction of working on the cottage saved me.
“That was when I decided to make it my home. I confirmed my resignation at the hospital. I told my father I wasn’t returning to New York. He began to pull me into helping him at Carrington’s. I think he sold the condo and the house at some point. Actually, I’m not sure. I left everything behind there. The only thing I had taken out of our home was one portrait of Emma and me. That’s all I have of her. And even today, it’s difficult for me to look at that photo.
“I still feel I’m to blame for Emma and that man’s death. I don't think any counselling will ever change how I feel. Since that fall, I had only left the Lake Tahoe area twice before meeting you and your friends. Both times were to help Professor Sansbury. I still don’t know how he was able to get me to leave the cottage. Those two times were more than enough. And when he asked again after that, I turned him down.
“I think that’s the whole story, Abby. But before I finish, I just want to tell you this. You and your friends have been a step forward for me. I didn’t think I could be around anyone, other than my father. I know I’m a long way from getting over what happened two years ago. I know I need help. Probably therapy too. Definitely therapy, to be perfectly honest. But being forced into close quarters with the six of you; it helped.
“And then there was you, Abby. Getting to know you, falling in love with you, it’s been something I never thought could ever happen to me again. I didn’t feel I deserved it. I still don’t. That’s the reason I left when you told me you knew about the articles. I figured there was no point; that there was no way I could expect you to want me after finding out about my past. This is why I would completely understand if you don’t want to have anything to do with me again after tonight. But I still want to thank you for taking a chance on this bruised, wounded guy you see here in front of you.
“I’m here tonight because my Dad told me about your note. I didn’t see it after your left. Rob also called. He told me it was his sister who had sent you the articles. For a while, I thought you had sought them out yourself. That hurt me. I shouldn’t have gotten so upset about it. Any reasonable person would want to know who they’re dealing with. But the way I reacted, it shows I still have a long way to go. I need to deal with my grief and sense of loss from that night. As a doctor, it’s time I accept being a patient. I’m going to get the help I’ve put off for so long.
“I don’t know what that help looks like right now. I’m sure there’s something I can do locally in Lake Tahoe. I don’t know how long it will take for me to feel better, if at all. But I’m here because I want to tell you Abby, that if you would forgive me, and can be patient with me, I would love to hold you in my arms again. I would love it if you would give us another chance.
“You’re probably exhausted by now. I think I’ll go now, and let you digest it. I was planning to go back to the cottage tonight, but it’s too late to fly. I’ll be over at the hotel tomorrow morning if you’d like to talk in person. After that, you know where to find me. Good night, Abby.”
Andrew stood up to leave. Abby stopped him. “Andrew, can you wait here for a few minutes? I promise it won’t be too long. Please, sit. I’ll be right back.”
“Of course. I’ve been talking for over an hour. Sure, I’ll wait.”
Abby walked to her bedroom and closed the door. She was probably crying. And he felt like crying too, but he was numb from sharing so much. There were so many points he felt he would break down and sob, and not be able to say more. It was the first time he had shared all of that with anyone. And he was exhausted from having shared it, but he had to admit, he felt different now. More at peace, now that he had let it out.
After about five minutes, Abby returned to the living room. She was dressed in jeans and a sweater. She had her purse and laptop bag on one shoulder, and a small suitcase in her hand.
Andrew stood up. “Oh. I’m sorry. Is there somewhere my driver can take you?”
“Don’t be silly, Andrew. I’m coming with you for the weekend. If you’ll have me, that is. I just need to be back by Sunday night. Is that okay?”
Tears streamed down Andrew’s face as he stood looking at her in disbelief. She put her suitcase and bags down and crossed the room to him. He took a step toward her. He leaned his head down to her, his lips just inches from hers. They gazed into each other’s eyes for some time, locked in the moment.