Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 115737 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115737 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
I can’t scream. I can’t move to curl into a ball and curb the agony. My eyes fill with tears behind my lids, and the tears force their way to the corners of my eyes and trickle down the sides of my face into my ears. I work to regulate my breathing into smooth, even inhales and exhales, and the pain subsides a little.
Then I begin to open my eyes again, bit by little bit, squinting back the glare. My surroundings come into view. I don’t recognise anything. It looks like a hospital room.
Beep!
If I could make anything work, I’d sit up. Or get out of bed and find someone to tell me what on earth is going on. I try to turn my head and the movement triggers a wave of pain that rips through me again. I scream in my head. Oh God, I’ve never felt pain like this. More tears come, blurring my vision.
Beep!
And then I see him.
He’s slumped in the chair next to me, asleep, his head propped on his hand, his elbow on the arm of the chair. He looks haunted, even in his sleep. His skin is almost as grey as I know his eyes to be, and his scruff is the scruffiest I’ve ever seen. He’s wearing old jeans and a white T-shirt, and a blanket is spread across his lap.
My Jack.
Suddenly, the pain doesn’t feel so brutal.
His hand is wrapped loosely around mine, resting by my side. I see a bracelet. It has two charms. You and Me.
The sight of Jack along with the bracelet opens the floodgates to my mind. I close my eyes, willingly walking towards the memories. I’m at a bar with Jack drinking tequila. He’s licking me. And I’m staring at him in a complete, awed daze. I’m standing on the opposite side of the road from him. I’m pushed up against a rough wall, and then soon after a smooth window in a hotel room. I wake up in a bed with his beauty spread out beside me. I run. I relive every moment of the week that followed, remember obsessing over the intensity of our encounter and regretting not leaving him any way to contact me. I see his face when I open my front door on the night of my housewarming party. I hear glass smashing at my feet. I feel his touches and hear all his words, experience every kiss again and every painful thought. I feel his arms around my body when I threw myself at him after he gave me a solution to my roof predicament. I see him sitting across the boardroom table looking at me as if he were the proudest man alive. I see a pregnancy test. I see his wife and the crazy light in her eyes. And finally I see a car speeding towards me.
Beep!
My eyes snap open and I gasp for breath, my chest pumping. More pain, except this time it’s worse. This time I know why I’m hurting.
‘Annie.’ I hear Jack in the distance and turn my eyes, finding him suspended over me, his face grave. ‘Annie?’ He reaches above my head and slams his fist into something before returning his attention to me, watching me convulse on the bed.
His hands are stroking my face as I look up at him with wide, frightened eyes. ‘Jesus, baby.’ He chokes, reaching for the button again and smashing it hard. ‘Come on!’ He looks over his shoulder when a hive of activity breaks out, the door swinging open. ‘She’s awake but I think she’s having a seizure.’
A nurse appears above me, pushing Jack out of the way. ‘Annie?’ she calls loudly. Too loudly. She pulls the skin under my eyes down, looking closely into them. ‘Annie, can you hear me?’
I nod, fighting to rein myself in to stop the pain. A mask lands over my face and I suck in air ravenously. The hit of oxygen gives me instant relief, widening my airways and dislodging the panic.
‘Is she okay?’ Jack asks, appearing by the nurse’s side. He looks just awful – drained, tired and anxious.
‘Are you in pain, darling?’ the nurse asks, ignoring Jack.
I nod again, and she immediately looks across the bed. ‘Check her chart and tell me the last time she was given morphine. Intravenous.’
‘Eight this morning,’ a female voice replies. ‘Straight after the first transfusion.’
‘Hook her up again.’
‘Straight away.’
‘Annie, we’re getting you some more pain relief, darling. Won’t be long, okay?’ The nurse makes fast work of hooking up a fresh bag of drugs, and I close my eyes, welcoming the cool liquid into my veins, hoping it numbs not only my broken body but my mind too. The door closes quietly and I try to relax, focusing on Jack’s closeness. He’s here. Everything will be okay because he’s here.