Page 48 of Your Love

I assure him I have no plans to be gone all summer, and as soon as Kerri is out of the hospital and on her feet, I’ll come home.

Mom and Pais drop me off at the airport a few hours later. I haven’t been on a flight this long in my life, even though it’s only a few hours. It’s difficult to fit in these tiny seats at my size and my parents are awesome, but they aren’t millionaires. It’s not like I could afford first class, so I’m currently stuffed into a coach seat like a sardine and vibrating with energy.

My stomach writhes with apprehension at the thought of seeing Kerri lying in a hospital bed. My instinct to protect those I care about makes it difficult for me to witness people I care about in pain. The mere idea of it feels like someone is tearing my heart out of my chest, which is likely why I tend to keep people at arm’s length. But I know I have to be strong for her, no matter how hard it may be.

I still haven’t been given any details about the accident itself. All I know is that Kerri was driving her friend’s car for some reason, and another vehicle ran a red light and struck them on the passenger side. Her friend, Paige, is currently in the ICU with internal injuries from the impact.

The entire situation is nothing short of devastating. On top of everything else, the perpetrator fled the scene and has yet to be identified. It’s likely just an unfortunate hit-and-run incident, but there’s something about it that sets off alarms in my mind whenever I think about it.

As soon as I land in the sweltering Texas summer heat, I ask the cab driver to take me to the hospital. I only have my duffel with me, and the last thing I care about is checking into the hotel before I go to the hospital. Now that I’m in the same city as Kerri, all I can think about is seeing her.

I step out of the cab as the humidity wraps around me like a heavy, heated blanket. I look at the massive structure that is the hospital Kerri is in and can’t believe this place houses sick people. It’s enormous. Our hospital in Merrimack only has one story and less than one hundred beds. This place looks to be four stories and spans several city blocks.

Kerri always says, “Everything is bigger in Texas.” I smile at the thought, toss my duffel over my shoulder, take a deep breath, and walk through the double doors. Locating the information desk is easy, and the sweet older lady in the pink candy striper dress gives me directions.

On my way, I pass a gift shop and do a double take. Amongst the “get well” cards and new baby balloons, there are a few stuffed animals. One is a baby chick. It reminds me of Lou, and I know Kerri will love it, so I double back and buy it before continuing my trek to her room.

I navigate a myriad of hallways and nurses’ stations before I find the unit. A cold sweat breaks out over my body as I approach her room. I’m so nervous to see her, but I can’t wait another second, so I turn the door handle as the sound of light laughter echoes through the room. My heart lifts, and I hide the stuffed chicken behind my back, take a deep breath, and walk through the door.

The first two people I see are Kerri’s parents. They’re standing next to her bed and turn toward the sound of my footsteps. They must recognize me from the description that either Kerri or her grandparents gave to them, and they offer me kind smiles. I return their smile, and my gaze fixes on Kerri. She’s lying in bed with wires hanging off her, and it hurts my heart to see her this way, but what’s more concerning is the way she’s looking at me.

Her face is filled with a quizzical expression—a complete absence of recognition. Tentatively, I take a step towards her and reveal the chicken hidden behind my back. But instead of joy or surprise, Kerri releases a blood-curdling scream that immobilizes me.

“No! Get away from me! Get away from me!” She tries to scramble up the bed and winces at the pain. “I’m not going to let you hurt me again,” she screams. Her words ring out in the room, sharp and pained.

Her parents rush over to soothe her. “Kerri, this is Landry,” her mother says calmly. “Don’t you recognize him?”

I remain rooted in place, struggling to make sense of what’s happening. How could she not remember me?

“No, no. I know who he is,” she cries out, gripping her mother’s arm tightly. “He’ll hurt me, just like he did before. Make him leave!”

My heart drops at her words, and my eyes fill with tears as I try to keep my face neutral. Her father steps forward and places a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Why don’t you give us some space while we figure out what’s going on?”

I nod numbly and turn to leave the room, dropping the stuffed animal on the chair. The door closes behind me, but I can still hear Kerri’s panicked voice echoing through the hallway. I don’t understand what’s going on, but that woman isn’t my Wildflower, and she’s absolutely terrified of me.

Chapter 22

“Broken”

Kerri - Age 19, 1989

Confusion and fear swirl in my head as I try to process what is going on. Since my accident, my thoughts have been jumbled, and my memories are fuzzy, but I was starting to feel more like myself until that man walked into my hospital room. When I think about it, my heart races, and every nerve in my body comes alive with the urge to run.

Why did my parents allow him into my room? Haven’t I been through enough already? The bruises on my body healed long ago, but I will never forget the brutal things he did to me.

My hands tremble as I tightly grip the sheets of the bed, anxiously waiting for someone to explain this situation. From behind the closed door, I can hear hushed whispers between my parents and doctors. Someone needs to tell me what’s going on now.

The door creaks open, and my nurse enters. She moves with grace and efficiency, and I can’t help but think that she reminds me of Alice, the housekeeper on “The Brady Bunch.” A slight smile tugs at my lips, grateful for the memory and a small reminder that I’m not going crazy.

Her gaze flickers over the machines surrounding my bed, monitoring my vitals. I feel like I’m in a sci-fi movie, hooked up to all these wires and tubes. “Can you please tell me what’s going on?” I ask.

“The doctors will be in to speak with you soon, Kerri,” she replies in a stoic tone before turning back to her duties. Great. Nurse “Alice” is a vault of secrecy.

“How’s your pain?” Her question catches me off guard since I’ve been so distracted from the stranger’s visit earlier. But now that she mentions it, my body is shaking with pain. It’s like every nerve ending is on fire, and my bones scream in protest. My muscles ache, and even my skin and hair seem to hurt, if that’s possible. “It’s about a nine out of ten,” I respond honestly.

“The doctor ordered something for the breakthrough pain. I’ll be right back.”

Less than two minutes later, she reappears with a small needle filled with clear fluid. As she pushes it into my IV, I feel a wave of relief wash over me. The pain that had been searing through my body begins to dull, and my muscles relax heavily into the bed. As the pain fades away, so does my ability to keep my eyes open.