April is No Longer a Fool

I must be dreaming of Clive again. There was nothing uncommon of that but something was different. Dreams were always pictures, but this time all I dreamed of was words. I was enveloped in darkness and couldn't hear well but I could hear enough to know it was my husband's voice. And his touch! I could feel him! Clive came home!

I still hard trouble talking, but I wasn't going to not try and tell my husband I was sorry for what I did forcing him to leave me. My speech was a garbled mess but I kept saying I was sorry over and over again. Between sobs of joy and trying to speak it was a terrible effort. Something was wrong with my jaw. Why couldn't I move my jaw? What happened?

Clive quieted me down by kissing me on the lips. I thought I would never feel his lips again. He spoke quietly and calmly, "Listen sweetheart, you're in the hospital. You were beaten up pretty bad, but you are going to be OK."

Hospital? Beat up? That's right, I remember now! I was in the park and was hit from behind and someone was trying to kill me! Even though we had been separated by years, he knew I was going to become hysterical so he pulled me in tight whispering in my ear telling me he loved me and that everything was going to be alright.

He continued to speak softly explaining that I needed to concentrate on resting and healing not worry about my injuries. He said I was no longer in danger and my priority had to be to listen to the doctors and nurses and get better. He promised when the time was right he would tell me everything but I needed to go back to sleep.

NO! I started to get aggravated. I just got him back! I wouldn't let him go again! I started pulling at him, bringing him in closer. Clive again started whispering in my ear promising he was not leaving me again, never again. Exhausted, I had no choice but to sleep. He promised! He said he would stay. I mumbled, "I love you, Clive" and slipped back to sleep.

The next time I woke, I immediately tried my best to call for Clive. He must have heard me, "I'm here, April. Don't worry, I stayed like I promised. Relax now. The doctor is coming to see you in a few minutes. Now calm down." I nodded, but I was still worried. Why couldn't I see?

The doctor did show up a few minutes later and said I was well on my way to healing but I would remain in the hospital most likely for another couple of weeks. As gently as he could he ran down a list of my injuries. I was in a coma for weeks as they tried to get the swelling in my brain to go down due to a fractured skull. The most devastating injury from the swelling was that I may never regain my eyesight.

Only time would tell if I would ever see again. My brain swelling put pressure on my optic nerves and right now he was waiting to see if the damage to the nerves were permanent. He wasn't ready to give up yet but he was being cautious. My jaw was indeed broken and was wired shut until it healed which would only be a few more weeks.

He excused himself and left the room. Instinctively I grabbed for my husband and started to sob. Why? How did I deserve this? Yes, I wasn't a perfect person. I've made mistakes. The worst being that damn practical joke I played on my husband and forcing him to leave me.

Clive held me until I got it all out. Not once did he loosen his grip. During my cry, I felt my husband crying with me. It became obvious to me at that moment, that my husband still loved me.

I had Clive back in my life so it was time to suck it up, get better and be his wife again. That is as, much as I could be or he would want me to be.

True to his word, by the end of my stay in the hospital, the doctor was able to free up my jaw and I could speak clearly. The first words were to my husband where I reaffirmed my apologies and my love for him.

Clive and I did have some talks, as much as I could, before I left the hospital. He explained he did get the envelope I left with Martha at the bar and with her support, he read it through to the end. Over the years his pain had lessened so he was able to read my letter with unbiased judgement.

My regret for my actions rang true to him. Not only because of my letter but because of my talk with Martha as she felt my words were indeed genuine and regretted my actions. Even then, it took time and a lot of thought to gain the courage to trust me enough to come home.

The day he did, he was driving to my apartment when he caught sight of me driving away. He decided to follow me in hopes of surprising me. When I left the parking lot of my apartment, he said another car pulled right behind me in a beat up blue truck and it also followed me to the park where I was going for my walk. He recognized the driver and waited to see what was going on.

Something felt off about the guy in the truck so he stayed hidden until he could determine what his motives were. I had parked my car and started my walk by the time the driver of the truck exited his and started after me.

Clive's said the way the guy acted didn't seem right so he called the police for help. By the time he caught up with me I had already been knocked down and the man was beating on me. He started yelling at the man to stop and ran at him to keep him from hurting me more.

He tackled the guy pulling him away from me. They fought like dogs. Clive immediately knew that if given the chance, Mark, my brother was going to kill me. He may have already done so but he wasn't about to let him hit me again.

During the struggle, Mark ended up getting the best of Clive and had picked up a large rock readying to hit him in the head, when a shot rang out causing Mark to drop the rock. He got a shocked look on his face as a red patch of blood formed on his chest. Clive arrived just in time to keep Mark from killing me and the police arrived just in time to keep Mark from killing Clive.

After he finished his story, I felt numb. Greg warned me that our brother wasn't the person he once was, but a killer? What happened to the nice brother that I followed around like a lost puppy when we were kids?

A couple days later the police came by to get my statement. I told them what I could remember, which wasn't much, but it went along with what Clive told them. During their investigation they spoke to the rest of my family and they confirmed Mark's irrational behavior where I was involved. When asked why Greg or another member of my family didn't warn me or call the police, they got a bunch of bullshit from every one of them. You bet your ass I would never have anything to do with them again.

One of the detectives made an unsolicited comment about me having one hell of a family and that I was lucky to have a husband that loved me as much as he does.

Hours later I was still holding onto Clive refusing to let go. More than a few tears fell for a number of reasons. Mostly because of Clive and his love for me.

Until we knew more of how my recovery went, we stayed in my apartment. Clive's work could be done remotely so we didn't need to worry about money. My boss promised me my job would be waiting for me when I was ready, but we both knew unless my eyesight came back, I couldn't return.

As the weeks went by my ability to speak went back to normal so Clive and I talked about everything. We cleared the air on the event that separated us and our lives during that separation.

We both led lonely boring lives. It was only the promise that kept us apart as long as it had. With a little help from my therapist, we were able to get past our mistakes and the pain we caused each other.

Years later we were as happy as we were when we first married. Maybe even more so. Our happiness was cemented with the birth of our twins. Running after two kids was hard enough, but try doing it while legally blind.

I didn't fully regain my eyesight. The damage to my optical nerves was just too much and they couldn't completely recover. What sight I did have was extremely limited. I will always be blind. There was nothing the doctors could do.

In a way, Clive's promise that I would never see him again if I ever pulled another practical joke was prophetic and to this day he feels guilty over it. Those times we are together holding hands on the back porch of our home and he gets quiet, I know he is feeling that guilt again. That is when I grip his hand a little tighter and thank him for saving my life so many years before.

Not once over the years have I regretted my life. I only regret that stupid April's Fool joke and how it forced Clive to leave me. The years we were separated were far worse than the decades I've been blind. My name is April and I never had a fool for a husband, only a brave one who knew when to stick to his principles and when not to.