Infinity: Based on a True Story (21 page)

L
ight
.

Light.

So much light.

It burns.

A dry groan fills my throat, and I shift, only to feel as if something has skewered me in the side.

“Ow,” I whimper, clutching my sides.

“Holy shit. Shannon!” Sonny’s voice is familiar and loud and it makes my head throb. I turn my head to face her, and she shoots out of her chair, her eyes rapidly filling with tears.

“Sonny,” I croak. Damn it, I need water. My throat is so dry.

“John!” Sonny calls, shouting towards the bathroom door. “She’s awake! Oh my God, she’s awake! It worked!”

“W-what? What worked?” I wince. I’m confused. And I need water. “Sonny? Water?”

“Oh, yeah! Of course!” She rushes for the pitcher on the counter, pouring me a quick cup and then spinning around to hand it to me.

The bathroom door swings open as I take a few deep gulps and I am surprised to see John walking out. His face is pale, the scruff trailed like a shadow across the lower half of his face.

He’s at my side in an instant, and he breathes my name, wrapping his fingers around the nape of my neck and kissing my forehead. I hold my water close to me, feeling some of it spill onto my chest from the embrace.

He inhales deeply, sighing, so much relief filling him up.

“Damn it, baby, I thought you were…
shit
. I thought you were gone.”

“Should we call the doctor?” Sonny asks, peering towards John as he releases me.

I wince again, dropping my gaze and spotting blood on my gown. I frown and with minimal energy, begin to lift the gown but Sonny reaches down rapidly to stop me. “You shouldn’t… yet,” she murmurs, and then takes my cup from me.

I frown up at her. “What do you mean? What the hell is going on? What happened to me?”

“You’re okay, Shannon,” she whispers, a smile running across her lips. But just as quickly as that smile appears, it vanishes, and her eyes are cloudy again. “Oh my God.”

“What?” I ask.

“I can’t do this,” Sonny cries. “I thought I could—that I should be the one to say it but… shit. I don’t know.” She steps towards me, kissing me on the cheek. “I’m glad you’re awake, Shanny, but I’m going to go get the doctor.”

“What the hell is going on?” I demand. And I really don’t care who I get an answer from as long as I get an answer.

Sonny looks at John. I stare at them both.

“Go ahead,” John finally says to her, and she spins around, hurrying for the door and walking out, but not before giving me a quick glance.

“John.” I push up, but the pain is much worse, so I slouch back down. John helps me relax, adjusting the pillow behind my head, his face sullen. “John? What is she talking about? What happened?”

He pulls a chair up towards the bed, sitting down immediately. “I will explain everything,” he murmurs. “But first I need to know how you feel.”

“I’m fine…” I look from him to my device in the cubby in the wall. “I forgot to charge it. I thought I had enough battery to last the night.” And then something hits me. The reason I’m here. The person I came with. “Max?” I gasp. “Max! Is he okay? Where is he?”

John immediately drops his gaze. “Max is around.”

Oh thank God.
“Oh. Okay. Good.” I notice the words on the wall are in French and translated to English. We’re still here. In Paris. John flew all the way here?

He must be furious me with. I am the worst wife ever.

“Oh, God, John, I’m so sorry,” I whisper, the emotion thickening my throat. “I—I wanted to tell you who I was with but I knew you wouldn’t appreciate it at all. I knew you would fly out here first thing and I didn’t want to ruin your competition, and I really wanted to come here before I died and—”

“Stop.” John lifts a swift finger, cutting me off. “No, Shannon. Don’t apologize to me. You needed this trip… with him.”

My eyes narrow, and I swipe at the corners of them. “You aren’t upset?”

“When I first found out, yeah,” he says through a ragged breath. “I was pissed that you’d lied to me, but I flew out here first thing—left during the middle of the competition because being angry didn’t matter. I was more concerned than anything. Somehow that anger subsided, changing to anxiety, fear… sadness.” He laughs dryly.

My lips press, and I focus on my fingers.

Raking his fingers through his hair, and sighing, John lifts his head, and his eyes are hard on mine.

“Shannon… I have something to tell you and it won’t be very easy for you to take in.”

Oh, Jesus.
He’s scaring me. Is he going to leave me, demand separation? Is he going to ask for a divorce?

My heart catches speed and the heart monitor picks up on my pounding pulse.

John looks towards the sharp, jagged lines it as it speeds up, and he sits forward, gripping my hand. “Calm down.”

“Is it because I lied?” I whisper, tears at the rims of my eyes.

“What? No! Nothing like that, babe. Nothing like that. I would never—” He stops talking immediately, probably in need of a rephrase. “I love you, Shannon. I wouldn’t just abandon you like that.”

My pulse settles, the monitor less chaotic, and warmth courses through my veins. “Okay… so what is it then?”

His lips twitch, and just as he starts to speak, Dr. Barad and Sonny are back in the room.

“There she is!” Dr. Barad grins as he comes my way, holding his hands out as if he is truly happy to see me. I return a wary smile. “You had us all scared there for a while. Seven days in a near coma and then two more days with little to no consciousness. You’ve had us very worried, Shannon.”

“Seven days?” I gasp.

“Yes. But don’t worry. You are okay.” He’s still smiling. “How are you feeling?”

“Good I guess.”

“How is the pain?”

“On my side?” I ask, touching it.

“Yes. On a scale of 1-10, how would you rate it?”

“Hmm… about a 6 or 7.”

“Okay. We will take care of that for you. I’ll have a few nurses come in to provide some more fentanyl. It will make you a bit drowsy, but should ease the pain. In the mean time, let me do a quick check-up.”

I chew on my bottom lip as Dr. Barad comes my way, checking my vitals. He tells me to breathe in and out slowly as he places the end of his stethoscope on my back.

As he does this, I realize something isn’t right.

I feel different.

Better.

There are no clear, plastic tubes running from my nose.

As I take in easy breaths without feeling like nails are pricking my lungs, I know exactly what has changed. The pain on my side. Breathing easily.

“Oh my gosh.”

“What is it, Shannon?” Dr. Barad asks.

“W-what happened? Did I get surgery? My lungs?”

Dr. Barad’s look of concern transitions into another grin, and I look around at Sonny first and then John. Sonny beams, her eyes still full of tears.

John is content. Grateful, but something is still weighing on his shoulders.

“A miracle is what happened, Shannon,” Dr. Barad says. “There was a donor here. Same blood type as yours. A female with the same height and build. Her lungs were perfect and strong, and about the same size as yours.”

I swallow hard, but it feels like I’m swallowing sand. “And… her lung has replaced mine?”

“As of two days ago, you have been completely cured of Onyx Pleura, Shannon.”

I gasp, immediately cupping my mouth, shocked by the words that have come out of his mouth.

“Cured?” I whisper, dropping my hands.

He nods. “Unfortunately, the young woman’s heart failed her and she passed away on the operating table, but her family was more than willing to donate once it came down to the paperwork. As soon as we received the lung, we took care of you.”

I’m… fucking speechless.

This has to be a dream.

This has to be a joke.

I must still be in a coma, wishing something like this would happen because this cannot be real.

As if she’s read my mind, Sonny says, “Trust me, Shannon. You’re awake.” She sobs and laughs at the same time. “You’re cured, sis! You’re okay!” She cups her mouth, dropping her head and fighting with her tears.

I want to cry with her, I really do, but I am still in shock. I look at my husband and gratefulness swims in his eyes. He mouths the words
I love you
and I want to jump out of bed and tackle-hug him.

Is this why he said I deserved the trip? Because he thinks this is fate?

Destiny?

Was this meant to happen to me? I would have been waiting years for a lung in the U.S. but here… in Paris. Not even a month and I have been blessed in every way.

“Wow,” I breathe. And I want to rejoice. I want to shout and scream and run until I can’t run anymore, just to test the new lung out.

“I suppose they’ve already told you about the misfortune your friend Max was involved in?” Dr. Barad’s voice fills the room again, and I whip my head up, my shock transforming to confusion.

“What do you mean?” I ask, one brow cocked.

Dr. Barad looks me hard in the eyes, and when he realizes I have no clue what the hell he’s talking about, he steps back, folding his fingers in front of him.

“Oh…” He looks at John, who also drops his line of vision. “I see. I… will go and get you something to ease the pain. Please let me know if you need anything else.” He walks out of the room in a jiffy, and I can understand why.

There is now a massive elephant in the room, one that won’t be gone until I have answers.

I look between my husband and my sister. I watch their faces, both full of grief and regret more than the relief.

John looks more stressed than struck with grief but Sonny? She is a dead giveaway. She is so emotional that I know there is something else she hasn’t told me.

“Sonny,” I whisper, my voice cracking. She looks away, slumping down on the sofa and covering her face. I look towards John. “John?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“What did Dr. Barad mean by that?”

I can feel my heart thundering. I need answers, and they are all stalling. “John!” I shout when he doesn’t respond. “What the hell happened to Max?!”

“He got into a wreck,” Sonny whispers. And then she breaks down. “God, Shannon, it was bad. So bad.”

My heart seems to fail me. “A wreck? H-how? How did that happen?”

Sonny’s face is completely covered by her hands now. I know she won’t say anything again for a while, not through those tears, so I look at John for the answers.

He moves forward, grabbing my hand, kissing my knuckles. Not once does he meet my eyes, not even as he begins to speak.

“Max got into a wreck leaving the hospital. A full-blown collision.” He pauses, swallowing hard. “He didn’t want to leave the hospital the entire week you were in the coma. I told him he couldn’t stay in the room with us—that he had to wait in the waiting room if he was going to stay. I… blamed him—told him it was his fault that you’d passed out and for putting the idea to travel to Paris in your head.

“We… um… got into a little confrontation and he had to be kicked out of the room by security guards. Sonny knew you wouldn’t want him to be too far away if you woke up so we agreed he could stay in the waiting room until then, but he couldn’t come back in here.”

“God, John,” I breathe.

“I know,” he whispers, his thick hair falling over his forehead. “I’m sorry, Shannon. I was just so angry—so pissed that he was here with you. It hurt me to know that.” He shakes his head. “Anyway, he um… he left that night. I don’t know where he went but Dr. Barad told us he’d finally taken off. But only an hour and a half later, Dr. Barad came back into the room and told us Max had been rushed to the ER.”

I gasp, and Sonny finally pulls her shit together, standing and meeting at my side. She sits on the edge of the bed, rubbing my back first before holding me close.

“Is he okay?” I muster.

“He… is not,” John replies. “A… um… a pole or something had gone through the top of his spine, and it struck the stem of his brain. He broke twenty-three bones. His legs were crushed and basically obliterated by the impact.” John looks up.

Sonny sobs silently, shaking as she clings onto me. She’s trying to be the stronger one, but it’s not working. She is a lot more sensitive than I am.

“But he is okay, right? He is fine? He’s alive?” Hope. I need hope.

“He is alive, yes.” Sweet relief. Thank God! “But,” John continues, and my relief is washed right away. The word “but” is never a good one to hear. “He is not okay, Shannon. Max is considered brain dead. His lungs are still working, his heart is still beating, but that’s only because of the life support. His brain has given no response and the doctors think it never will.”

“Oh my God,” I whimper. “A-are you serious? Please. Please tell me this isn’t for real?”

“We wouldn’t lie to you about something like this, Shannon,” Sonny speaks up. “Max got into a really bad accident. Eugene is here with him.”

“Eugene?” I whisper, turning my head to meet her damp eyes.

“He’s next of kin. He will control whether to… pull the plug or not.”

The plug?!
No. So this is real?

I start to hyperventilate, wishing my lungs would fucking give out on me right now so I can pass out again. This can’t be true. Max has to be okay. He has to! I was the one who was supposed to die, not him.

I’m the one that’s supposed to leave, not him.

I’d finally come to peace with it. I was at an understanding. I was finally okay with dying!

“Max is in this hospital?” I ask, panicked.

“Three floors up,” Sonny whispers.

“Well, I have to go see him! I can’t just sit here. I have to go!” I start to peel off the tape that is connected to the IV in my hand, but John grabs my wrist before I can take it out. “John! Let me go. I have to see him. You don’t understand!”

“I understand that you care about him, but you can’t go yet. Not while you’re still healing. He will still be here, I’m sure. Sonny told his uncle that you’d want to see him before he… makes any decisions.”

I watch his eyes for several seconds, my vision blurring. I then snatch my gaze away, covering my mouth, dropping my line of sight.