Will Be Yours Ch. 20

"The past is in the past," Carrie smiled, holding her hands. "Now isn't the time to bring up old things."

"She's right." Luke slowly walked up to the table and pulled a chair. Scott put the steaming bowls of rice and beef curry on the table, followed by the plates. Luke inhaled the aroma of the food, hoping it would bring back his appetite.

"The worst is over, Mrs Adamson," he said, clasping his hands on the table. "We just have to be patient until Cynthia wakes up."

"I've treated her inhumanly," she said in a broken voice. "How could I turn out my young daughter without thinking twice?"

She wiped off a few tears that had trickled down her cheeks, without lifting her face. "Sam had only played with her," she said quietly, "He took advantage of her vulnerability and used her in his moment of weakness. I wish I had not trusted NJ so much. I wish I had seen the whole thing in a different light and stood by my daughter..."

She finally looked up at Scott, who was standing next to the table. "I should have at least heard you out," she lamented. "You came to meet me but I..."

"Let's not talk about this, please," Carrie interjected, giving her a glass of water. "We have to be together in this. It will be beneficial for Cynthia if we stand united in this difficult time." She looked over her shoulder to find Scott walking away to the kitchen. Then she smiled and tapped Bethany's hand.

"I'll be right back," she nodded, before rising from the chair and following her husband. Luke sighed, taking pity on the lady. Cynthia had made a mistake by choosing the wrong person to love, and her mother had made a mistake by refusing to understand her. But then, who was perfect in the world? The most important thing was to learn from those mistakes and move on. Cynthia had moved on to a great extent, but her mom's life had come to a standstill after she left. She hadn't been able to forgive herself.

"Why didn't your elder daughter accompany you?" he asked. He had assumed she'd not have the time or opportunity to inform anybody else, but he'd also hoped Cynthia's sister would at least know.

"She isn't here," Bethany replied. "She's on her honeymoon. I wouldn't want to spoil their good time."

"I tried to call you many times, but your number remained unreachable. I left a message with your bank."

"Yes, I was away on work, and the weather in Bath was terrible. I returned as soon as I got the message."

"I'm sorry we proceeded with the treatment without your knowledge," Luke mentioned.

"There's nothing to be sorry for," Bethany smiled at him. "You did the right thing. Delaying the surgery would have been so dangerous..."

Bethany looked in the direction of the kitchen where Scott and Carrie were having a conversation. "I wish Carrie hadn't brought me home," she rued. "Scott hasn't forgotten my rude behaviour."

"Mrs Adamson," he said gently, looking at her sideways. "I understand how you must be feeling. But you have to be strong. You're her mother. You're the best person to take care of her."

"I lost that right the day I turned her out." She smiled wistfully. "Cyn was gentle, loving, unassuming. And I-"

"There's no use of saying these things now," Luke reminded her. "We must invest our energy in Cynthia. She needs us."

Bethany looked at him, her moist eyes sad. She reached out one of her hands and placed it on Luke's arm.

"You're not going to break her heart, are you?" she asked, her voice exuding fear and concern. "You're not going to do what Sam did with her, right?"

Luke closed his eyes and inhaled sharply, a pang of anger suddenly stabbing his chest at being compared to her ex.

"You think I'm capable of something so low?" he asked, looking away.

"No, I don't think you're like that. But men are hard to trust." She sighed, pinching the middle of forehead. "I had my heart broken, my daughter went through the same thing."

"It's over," Luke announced firmly. "Cynthia is always going to have me. I love her too much to let her go."

He looked comfortingly at Bethany. "You can trust me on that."

Bethany smiled, hugging him warmly. "I do, my boy. I do."

--

Luke's phone hadn't stopped ringing for the past one week. He and James had been doing a lot of to and fro with the website, and Luke often found himself swiping images and sending emails while keeping Cynthia company, despite the poor network connection inside the hospital. Megan, the motormouth that she was, had also explained the whole situation to Liam, much to Luke's displeasure since he hadn't intended to embroil Liam into his private matter. Now, along with Paul and Megan, his brother had also started calling him almost every day loaded with endless questions about the new woman in his life.

Three weeks had passed since Cynthia's accident but she still hadn't woken up. Quite surprisingly, her friends, neighbours, customers, and well wishers continued to visit the hospital, even though Luke had expected them to lose steam after a while. Bobby was present there almost every day, filling in when he or Scott needed to be away for some time. Lauren dropped in every evening while returning from work, no matter how tired she was. There were others who visited every day, and some who came every couple of days. Whenever Luke visited Cynthia's shop to consult the website contents with Becky and Leah, he found the girls going about business as usual, although they did look very down always. Leah once said that it felt like Cynthia was away on a long vacation and had left the shop to them.

But what touched Luke the most was the way the town dwellers remembered Cynthia all the time. And their affection also extended towards him. In a small town, everybody knew who was dating whom. Cynthia was guarding of her private life, but the fact of her singlehood was known by all. While Luke knew how the single, eligible men in the town who coveted Cynthia's affection reacted to the fact that she had bypassed all of them and chosen a city guy, he hoped he'd be able to win the hearts of the people there and become one of them. He could already feel their love for him.

While leaving home after a quick shower that morning, he had noticed two more blooming buds. One was a white rose on her window sill, and the other was a dahlia on the lawn. When he arrived, Bethany was already there. Luke saw a rosary around her neck, which was permanently present there. She didn't talk much. Sometimes she counted the rosary beads, sometimes she cried silently. At other times, she watched Cynthia through the window. When Carrie came, she took her to the café or to show her around the place.

That afternoon, Carrie had taken her home for lunch after Luke had used the best of his persuasion skills to convince her that he'd grab lunch at the café. Not that he had kept his word. It was well past 3 p.m. and he hadn't moved out of the chair in the last three or four hours. He had talked to Cynthia about how well her website was shaping up and how everybody was eager for her to get better soon.

Luke must have dozed off when he was jerked awake by one of the machines beeping loudly, while Cynthia frantically flailed her arms, trying to free herself from everything injected into her body. Too panicked to even notice that she was awake, Luke hit the nurse call button, while trying to hold her down, to stop her from struggling, but very strangely, Cynthia seemed stronger than him.

The door burst open and her nurse bustled in.

"She's beginning to wake up," she beamed, "but it seems she isn't too happy about it."

She gave Luke a quick smile, and he found himself wondering how many times she had been faced with this. He saw the nurse calling for Dave, Dr Murray, and Dr Baker, and in a few seconds they had arrived in the room.

"This is wonderful." Dave exclaimed, smiling widely. "Nurse, give her a mild sedative to calm her down. We'll be present in the room when she moves again."

The nurse nodded and proceeded to do as told, and Luke tried not to wince as the needle slid into Cynthia's arm. Within moments, she became still again.

"What if...?" Luke tried to speak but found his throat too dry. Dave smiled at him.

"She's not unconscious anymore." He told him. "Just asleep. She'll wake up again in a short time. In the meanwhile, inform the others. They must be here when she opens her eyes."

Luke nodded dumbly, leaving the room. Once out on the passageway, he leaned against the wall, his legs wobbly. When his hand slid inside the pocket of his jeans, his trembling fingers could barely close around his phone. Scott was at his café, Carrie was home with Cynthia's home. Becky and Leah were at the shop. He wondered who was calm enough to handle the news. Carrie would be too overwhelmed. The girls couldn't close the shop abruptly.

Gulping slowly, he finally fished out his phone and found Scott's number.

Then he hit the call button.

Eyes closed and pulse racing, he waited for him to pick up. When he picked up, he sounded anxious.

"Is everything alright?" he asked. He could hear the sounds from the café kitchen, people talking, cars passing. But he struggled to make his voice work.

"Luke? Is Cynthia okay?" Scott asked again. "What happened?"

Luke swallowed again, in an attempt to moisten his throat. His eyes were still closed and he grabbed the wall to steady himself as he managed to come up with two words.

"She's awake."

True to what Dave had said, Cynthia started to stir again after a while, this time a little calmer. She was moaning and sweating when Scott, Carrie, Bethany, Becky, and Leah arrived. The ICU was suddenly full of people. Dave was standing by her bedside, gently calling out her name. Cynthia continued to moan and sweat, sometimes moving her right arm. Luke stood outside the room, his hands trembling and heart beating furiously. She hadn't opened her eyes yet. Maybe the light in the room hurt her eyes. Her lips were slightly parted, and she frequently swallowed air.

Three weeks of hell were over. Cynthia was finally awake. And Luke suddenly found his strength back. The strength to face the future. He knew Cynthia wouldn't be exactly like before. She'd require a lot of care and patience. Luke was prepared for it. He'd feed her, bathe her, sing her to sleep, wake her up with kisses, hold her when she felt weak... He'd be with her through every step of her recovery.

"Luke, come in." Carrie poked her head out of the room and said to him in a hushed tone. He tip-toed towards her and reached the door, putting his head in first. Dave looked happy, Scott looked relieved, Bethany looked nervous, and Becky and Leah were still trying to decide how to react. Cynthia was mumbling something very feebly, and the way her eyes were squeezed shut indicated she was feeling pain.

"Come here, lad," Dave called him close. "There's nothing to be afraid of anymore. We're moving her out of the ICU." He said to everybody present there. "She'll have another scan, and then we'll keep her in a room of her own. Okay?"

Everyone nodded in agreement, except Luke. His eyes were fixed on Cynthia's face. He always thought hers was the calmest, the most serene face he'd ever seen. Over those three weeks, he'd never stopped hoping that he'd see her lips moving, her eyes blinking again. Her fingers were still twitching while she let out moans and incoherent words. The sedative was still active, and he dreaded to think the pain she'd feel once she became fully conscious. He wanted to hold her. He wanted to kiss away her pain.

"Prepare her room," Dr Baker instructed the nurses. "Dr Nesbrit, should we perform the scan now?"

"Yes, before she's shifted to the new room." Dave looked at the visitors in the cabin. "She should be okay from now on. However, we cannot say if there has been any long term damage until a few days pass." He smiled at Luke and patted him on the back. "Don't worry," he said. "I'd told you she'd make it. She did."

Luke nodded, tears bubbling inside him. "Thank you, Dave," he murmured. "You've given me back my everything."

"Don't thank me," Dave said while leaving the room. "Your love brought her back. You're meant to be together."

Luke and the others watched as Cynthia was wheeled away for the scan. Bethany crashed into the nearest bench and fished out her handkerchief to wipe off her tears. Becky and Leah hugged each other again. They had been too overwhelmed to speak properly since they arrived at the hospital. Carrie still looked a little anxious, as she paced up and down the corridor, visibly impatient for Cynthia to be moved to a normal room. The only one smiling was Scott. He came up to Luke, slipping an arm around his shoulders.

"You look funny," he laughed, making Luke smile out of relief. He ran a hand across his face, feeling hungry for the first time in weeks.

"Do you think she remembers everything?" he asked Scott nervously.

"I hope she has forgotten her ex and the things he'd done to her." Scott looked at him and smiled. "I have a feeling she remembers everything. Her home, you, flowers, her shop... things that matter to her. I can't imagine her forgetting the things that make her who she is."

"I'm worried about her scan report," Luke said. "I wonder how much she's healed."

"Well, she wouldn't have woken up if she hadn't healed at all. The rest of her recovery will take time but she'll make it."

He gave him a little squeeze. "We're together, Luke," he assured him. "We'll help her through this."

"We will."

"Anybody you'd want to call?"

"No. Not now."

"I'll give my mom a call and tell her." He patted his back again. "Cheer up. She's okay."

Luke couldn't be so sure. Not until she opened her eyes or said something coherent. He worried about her memory, her vision and hearing, her movements... Practically everything would continue to worry him until she fully came back to life.

"The patient has been moved to her room," a nurse came to them with the announcement after sometime. "Dr Nesbrit wants all of you to be there."

When they went to the small, neat room which she now occupied, Dave was trying to make her respond. She was half-awake, half-asleep; she moved her head very faintly from side to side, while still mumbling incoherently.

"Cynthia?" Dave spoke very gently. "Can you hear me?"

Her fingers twitched and lips moved in response. Luke almost involuntarily opened his mouth to say something, but held himself back. Dave turned to look at him.

"Did you say something?" he asked. Luke shook his head, embarrassed. Suddenly all eyes were on him.

"Come here," Dave called him near her bed. "Sit by her side."

As if entranced, Luke slowly walked closer to her bed. For the first time, he seemed to notice that her hair had been cut. It was better than a shaven head, but Cynthia would still be sad about losing her amazing hair. Her hand and shoulder wounds had healed a lot, and the sutures had been removed. Doctors suspected the broken bone of her leg had also patched up to a great extent.

Luke gently sat by her bedside, afraid of jerking or scaring her. She was breathing fast, her chest heaving. The cuts on her face and lips had begun to dry, leaving brown scars on her pale skin. His tongue darted out and moistened his lips as he opened his mouth and tried to think of something to say. But words failed him. They would've been together for these three weeks had her ex not turned up. They would've had countless precious moments had she not driven in the rain.

He held her hand and kissed it, still thinking of what to say. And then he gave up, deciding to resort to what he did best.

"I'd gladly walk across the desert,

With no shoes upon my feet,

To share with you the last bite of bread I had to eat...

I would swim back to save you,

In your sea of broken dreams,

When all your hopes are sinking,

Let me show you what love means...

As the others in the room stared on endearingly, Luke tried to keep himself from choking on his tears. His voice was broken and out of tune, but he continued to sing.



"Love can build a bridge,

Between your heart and mine,

Love can build a bridge,

Don't you think it's time?

Don't you think it's time?"

Luke was still singing hoarsely when Cynthia's hand closed around his thumb. There were a few audible gasps in the room. Her mumbling had stopped; she was calm now. Something told him she was searching for him in her stupor. Luke wiped his tears off and kissed her hand again, cherishing her tender hold on his fingers. The woman he loved, who had given him back everything he'd ever lost, was alive and awake. He had never believed in miracles. But right then, he knew he had experienced it. Cynthia was with him again. There was no miracle greater than that for him.

(To be continued)