Compass (Siren Songs Book 2) (26 page)

Floating in and out of awareness, I fight like hell to regain my bearings when I hear Piper breaking down. I see her between the slits sobbing into her hands; my brother’s arms are wrapped around her to keep her from sinking. Reaching toward her in an effort to comfort her, I start to fall.

“Whoa, Moby. Just stay still. The paramedics are on the way.” My oldest brother. Always taking care of everyone else. “Piper’s here. Brooks has her. Just stay still, man.” His face is near my ear. Oddly, I wonder if anyone else can hear his soft coos or if his whisper is solely for me. “Stay with me, Moby. You hear me? You fight like hell to stay with me.”

It seeps out before I can stop it. “I just want to die. Please just let me go.” I’d fought the words for months knowing if I ever spoke them my will to fight would cease but I can’t do it anymore. I can’t live in the agony constantly surrounding me, not just the physical pain, but the emotional turmoil. I need to set my wife free, but she’ll never leave me on this side of eternity. She’ll stay and endure hell before walking away. I can’t continue as this burden on everyone in my life.

I just want to go. I need to go. I want the peace death will bring.

Squeezing my hand, my brother speaks into my ear, “Don’t say that, Moby. I can’t lose another brother and your wife can’t lose a husband.”

Without opening my eyes, what seems like a wail but could possibly be a murmured plea, “Please, Dax. Let me go.”

“Not happening, Moby. I’ll fight as long as I can to keep you here.”

The effort to argue with my brother takes too much energy, as does the fight for my life. Just as I’m about to tell him goodbye, the paramedics push him to the side, and I let the darkness seep in.

* * *

T
he lights are bright
, so fucking white they’re blinding. My head is pounding but for the first time in months, I don’t feel pain—my hips, my knees, my arms, none of them hurt. Turning my head to the side, I attempt to peek through my lids. Next to me sits my wife balled up in a plastic chair, her head resting on her folded arm. She looks miserably uncomfortable, and she’s not wearing the clothes she had on this morning.

I don’t wake her or call for the nurse. Sleep lures me back into the veil of darkness where I’m comfortably numb.

“He’s moved around some, but I don’t think he’s woken up.” Piper’s voice is still that of an angel no matter how many times I hear it.

“We’re keeping him pretty heavily dosed on morphine to ward off the pain until we can figure out what’s causing it. It will be difficult for him to come out of it as long as he continues to receive it. If he does, it will be fleeting, maybe a minute or two. His vitals are strong, so rest is the best thing we can give him.”

“But you still have no idea what’s wrong?”

“I’ve just been brought in on the case, but I have a couple ideas I haven’t seen in any of the notes. He’s seen a rheumatologist, correct?”

“Yes, several times, but all he did was prescribe steroids, which caused his blood pressure to spike so he couldn’t take them. They took him off them after a two or three days. When Moby called him back to tell him, the doctor blew him off, so we haven’t been back since.”

My dreams are few and far between, and I can’t distinguish if they’re delusions or reality. I used to love listening to my brother play the guitar but it seems so close I could almost reach out and touch the strings. My favorite songs echo in the background of my darkness. The acoustics a beautiful melody only Dax can bring to life.

“He’s smiling,” she says to someone. “Keep playing, Dax. He hears you.”

Knowing they’re here with me, I open my eyes as much as possible, the light again flooding my pupils. Blinking rapidly to keep it from coming in too quickly I can’t really make out the shapes, but I’d know those sounds anywhere.

“Moby? Are you awake?” her face appears in my view, close up.

“Mmmm,” is all I can manage to utter. My throat is dry and words just don’t seem to want to come.

Her hand smooths my hair, a gentle smile crosses her face. “I’ll get the nurse,” she says softly.

The grogginess begins to subside as the fog lifts. I fight the urge to go back to sleep in favor of seeing my wife and brother.

When Piper returns to the room, Dax has helped me sit up a little in the bed.

“The doctor will be in soon. How are you feeling?”

“Better. My head hurts, but that’s about it. How long have I been asleep?”

“About five days,” she replies nonchalantly. Her carefree attitude surprises me. “They figured out what was wrong on day two and believe they have the issue resolved, but I’m pretty sure the doctor has some questions for you.” I can’t detect what’s off in her voice. It’s not quite agitation. It’s almost accusation.

Before I can ask, a doctor I don’t recognize comes in. “Mr. Cooper. Glad to have you with us. Hopefully in better shape than you came in.” His voice booms through the room, echoing off the sterile walls.

I nod, unsure of what response he’s looking for.

“Any pain in the joints?”

I shake my head.

“Good.” He takes a seat in one of the spare chairs in the room before continuing. “So your case presented some difficult challenges. As you know, you’re not a classic stroke victim, and therefore didn’t present issues typically following a stroke. I’ve only read about something like this in medical journals, but really feel like one of the doctors you’ve seen should have caught it.”

Looking at Piper, she sees my confusion, comforting me with a hand to the shoulder as she listens to what I’m sure she’s heard before.

“You’re on a myriad of drugs to maintain a stable blood pressure, more than anyone I’ve ever seen to be honest, and considerably higher doses than any of the manufacturers recommend. Most of those drugs are prescribed to patients much older than you are so we never see the long-term effects because they pass away before they actually manifest. But at high doses with continued use there are drugs that cause symptoms mimicking other diseases.”

“Okay…”

“You were prescribed Hydralazine. My understanding from your wife is you were to take it under specific circumstances in regards to where your blood pressure was at the time of dose. Is that correct?”

Fuck.

Shit is about to hit the fan.

Looking to Piper, I now know what the tone of her voice represented. “Yes. That’s correct.”

“Is it safe to assume you were not adhering to those directions?”

I just nod.

“There’s a reason prescriptions are written the way they are, Mr. Cooper. Your abuse of that drug—”

I interrupt him, “Wait, I wasn’t abusing a drug. I never took more than I was supposed to or anything.”

“Maybe not, but your instructions were to only take the medication if your diastolic or systolic pressure were above certain levels, correct?”

I breathe in heavily through my nose, releasing that breath before taking one more. “Yes.” This is why I was supposed to take my blood pressure three times a day. Had I been doing so, I would have known I didn’t need the medication and wouldn’t be lying here.

“Your body began to store the medication because it didn’t need it. The overuse of the drug caused Drug Induced Lupus. When we eliminated the drug from your system, your pain went away.”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“It’s an autoimmune disorder that causes the body to attack its own healthy cells producing symptoms like those of Systemic Lupus.”

“So it’s not going to come back?” This seems too good to be true.

“It shouldn’t. We’ll keep you here tonight to watch you, but you’ll be released in the morning assuming nothing unforeseen takes place between now and then preventing it.”

“Wow.” I don’t know what else to say to him.

“Mr. Cooper, let this be a lesson to you. Unless you have an MD after your name, don’t self-prescribe, trust the professionals to do it for you and take prescriptions as they’re written, not as you see fit.”

Shaking my hand, he bids farewell to Dax and Piper before leaving the room.

It’s apparent Dax already knew the answers to the doctor’s questions as did Piper. The look on her face is sheer devastation. I lied to her again and didn’t uphold my end of our deal.

“I’m going to go down to the cafeteria and get something to eat. I’ll give you guys some time alone.” He stops by the door for a minute, tapping his hand on the doorframe before continuing. “I’m not going to call anyone other than Mom and Dad. They left a little while ago, so I’m going to update them. Piper, just let me know when you’re ready.”

My eyes dart back and forth between the two of them unaware of what’s going on. Terrified of what my fate holds.

I
pull
the chair close to Moby’s bed, prepared to have the most difficult conversation of my life. I’ve talked at length with my Fish and Dax and feel I have no other alternatives.

Taking his hand in mine, I watch him search my face. I wish I thought he had no idea what’s coming, but I know he knows I can’t continue when he’s not doing his part.

“Moby, I’ve spent the last few days thinking about what the doctors have said. How different things could’ve been if you had only followed their instructions. I think about the amount of money we’ve wasted on specialists and the pain you’ve unknowingly inflicted on yourself by your simple refusal to do what you’re told by licensed professionals.

“You promised me when you came clean about not doing the rehabilitation work your lies and misrepresentation were over. You committed to doing things the right way, exactly as prescribed. Whether that was exercising or taking medication, you promised me you would do it.”

“I have done it. You’ve made sure I did it. You’ve had someone babysitting me day and night for months.”

“Did you take your blood pressure three times a day before taking the Hydralazine?” My question seems like a simple yes or no, but the implications to the answer are far more severe.

“Did you? Because according to your journal, you didn’t. All the workouts with Dax, Brooks, and Landis are all outlined but there are very few days where there’s even one BP charted, much less three. So, yes or no?”

“No.” I know by the way he spits the word out he wants to argue, but the truth is the truth.

“I can’t do it anymore. I can’t continue to give more of myself than you do of yours. I’ve been patient. I’ve sacrificed everything I know to do. We’ve cashed in every penny we had in savings and even borrowed money from my best friend to make sure you had the best money could buy. I can’t continue to sit back and watch you waste your life. I refuse to watch you die.”

“So what are you saying, Piper?” His voice is louder than it should be, causes a passing nurse to stick her head in the door to make sure everything is okay.

“Dax has spoken to your parents, and when the hospital releases you tomorrow, you’ll be going home with them.”

“What?” he screams at my somber face. “You’re fucking leaving me? I’m in the goddamn hospital having been out of it for five days, and you’re telling me you want to separate? What the fuck is wrong with you, Piper? Are you really that shallow?” I listen to the litany of curse words flying from his mouth; each one hits like a dagger, I flinch at each cross syllable.

His brother comes stomping in. I should’ve known he wouldn’t be far; always the knight in shining armor. “Moby, you need to calm down.”

“Fuck you, man. You helped my wife orchestrate a separation from me while I was comatose? What the hell is your deal? I would never do that shit to you! Who do you think you are?”

His face ever calm, mine still the same sullen look it’s had since Moby woke. Neither of us is willing to engage.

“Are you fucking her, Dax? Is that why she doesn’t want me? She’s been getting your dick instead. I’ve missed her tight little pussy.” Turning to me he continues to hurl insults. “Is he good? I guess you figure one Cooper’s as good as another, right? You going to go after Brooks or Landis next? Landis has a huge fucking cock, so I’d suggest him.”

Gathering my purse and sweatshirt, I walk out the door without looking back. Dax warned me it would get volatile, but I assured him Moby would be resigned to his fate knowing he caused it. Never in my life would I have thought he’d accuse me of sleeping with someone else, much less his brother, my best friend’s fiancé. I refuse to allow myself to wallow in the emotion until I get home. I’ve already taken his clothes to his parent’s house, so there’s no reason for him to come back to ours. Phoenix has been there since the paramedics came.

Walking in the door, I should feel an enormous weight lifted from my shoulders. Instead, all I feel is crushing defeat making it difficult to breathe. I agonized over this decision. I spoke with my girlfriends at length countless times. His parents even had a hand in my choice as did mine. When I laid it all out in the open, bared my soul to all—I was enabling Moby to live at half-mast. I can’t live with myself if I’m the reason he never recovers.

I don’t intend for this to be a permanent split, I’m not going to file for separation, my friends, and our family all know that, which is the only reason I think they’re all being supportive. Moby has to fight for himself, and if it takes me leaving to make that happen, I will walk away.

* * *

I
don’t hear
from him for a couple days, which surprises me. If I’m being totally honest; it cuts me to my core. I depend on Moby for direction in my life. No matter how dark things get, he’s the light on my path. Once I found him, I knew I’d never be alone. But here I sit, my heart shattered, by myself, in a never-ending darkness that’s cataclysmic.

I took the week off work, needing time to process and rejuvenate. The last year has beaten me up pretty badly. I’ve lost sight of who I am. Every part of me changed. I miss my husband and had hoped me leaving would spark a fire in him to get in gear; to fight for me. Hell, to fight for himself. Instead, it’s radio silence. Not just from Moby but I haven’t heard from any of my Fish either.

I haven’t left the house, and for two days, I didn’t even bother to shower. My own funk took care of that issue, the stench was more than I could stand. I wander aimlessly in the painful silence, listening for things I apparently missed, but no answers come. Only the occasional clang of ice in the refrigerator or creak from a floorboard settling. I’ve lost more weight I can’t afford to lose and worry about whether the dress for Piper’s wedding will even fit by the time the date rolls around.

In just a couple weeks, I’ll have to face Moby. We’ll be walking down the aisle at his brother’s wedding, my best friend’s wedding. I’m the plus to his one. The anxiety that kicks up makes me want to toss my cookies.

* * *

F
inally dragging
myself back to work after a weeklong hiatus, the vibe in the office is off. I get the obligatory hello but no one asks where I’ve been or what I’ve been doing. Nobody inquires how I am after leaving my husband. They’re oddly cold and distant, even Cam. Dax is nowhere to be found. I find strange, too. He rarely lets Cam out of arm’s reach, much less his sight.

With a week of work sitting on my desk, I don’t dwell on the environment around me once I settle in and turn on my computer. I don’t stop for lunch and work long past everyone else’s quitting time. It’s not lost on me no one says goodbye. I get up to check the doors around the office to make sure they’re all locked before going back to the grind.

I continue well into the late hours of the night. With nothing at home to beg for my attention other than depression, I might as well stay. Around two, I finally decide to go home to grab a couple hours of sleep before replicating today, tomorrow.

The days go on like a bad song accidentally left on repeat. The only time anyone talks to me is to bring me work or ask me a question, and they disappear as quickly as they came. I’ve only seen Dax once or twice all week, and his visit seemed short. He could’ve been in the back building doing music therapy, but even so, he usually comes to the front to get kids before going out there. He would only miss those sessions if something drastic happened. He never lets the patients down. He loves them too much.

Concern crosses my mind, and I march to Cam’s office. My presence draws her attention from her computer. “Hey, Piper. What can I do for you?”

What? I look around unsure she’s talking to me, or possibly I’m being pranked. I’ve known Cam longer than I haven’t, and this has never been her MO with me. “Is something going on?”

“Not that I’m aware of, why?” She raises her eyebrows, a blank look on her face.

“Why hasn’t Dax been here recently?”

“He has.”

“Not like he normally is. And why is everyone ignoring me? Have I pissed you all off somehow?”

“I think you’re imagining things, Piper. People are just busy. It’s not a personal attack.”

“Yeah…I guess you’re right.” I turn to walk back to my office when she calls out behind me.

“Don’t forget to pick up your dress this weekend. The wedding’s in a week!”

Wait. How is that possible? Where the hell did the weeks go between us trying on dresses, Moby being in the hospital, me being alone, and coming back to work? I should still have two or three weeks before the event.

Racing back to my office, I pull up my calendar. Somehow, I’ve lost two weeks of my life, completely unaware of where they went or how I spent them. I haven’t seen my husband or heard from him in almost a month. Not one peep, and other than seeing Sutton randomly pop up here, I haven’t seen or heard from Rachel or Charlie either.

I pick up the phone to call the bridal shop to schedule an appointment to have my alterations done on the bridesmaid dress.

“Can you come now? I know it’s not much notice, but we had a cancellation.” The girl on the other end of the line encourages me.

“Yeah. I can. I’ll be there in about ten minutes?”

“See you then, Mrs. Cooper.”

Arriving at the dress shop, Natalie pulls my gown from the back, ushering me into a fitting room, following closely behind me. Hanging the dress on the hook, she backs out of the room to get the seamstress.

Unzipping the garment bag, I unveil the most beautiful yellow dress I’ve ever seen. The color is soft and buttery, the fabric flowing as if the wind hangs just beneath it. I had almost forgotten which dress Cam had selected for me but the memories of that weekend bring a smile to my face. I loved how the dress made me feel.

Slipping into the silky material, I hope to transport myself back to that moment, when I was here with my girls, laughing and drinking, planning my best friend’s wedding. With a lift of my hand, the side zipper closes, and I turn to look in the mirror, but my smile quickly fades to horror.

The fabric hangs lifelessly on the remnants of my shell. I haven’t stepped on a scale in weeks, months even. I knew I had lost weight but what stares back at me is a scary sight. My face is gaunt, the skin paler than normal, the dark circles surrounding my eyes larger than usual. My shoulders poke out unnaturally, and my hips are no longer full and shapely.

Gathering the fabric at my sides, I sit on the bench in the room, words having escaped me.

“Mrs. Cooper, are you ready?” Natalie calls through the door.

I open the door, seeing the shock on her face, confirming my own horror. “Oh, Natalie. I don’t think even the best seamstress in the world can fix this.” The culmination of pain spills down my cheeks in a shameless display of self-destruction.

“Oh, no, no, no. Mrs. Cooper. Please don’t cry.” Producing a tissue from thin air, I take it, wiping at my eyes. “We can fix it. I promise. Have a seat, I’ll be right back.”

I hear her whispering to the seamstress who seems to be hissing back at her, “There’s no way to fix that dress, Natalie. It needs to be taken in at least two, probably three sizes. It’s not going to be successful. I’ll end up destroying it in the process.”