44. Ella

44

ELLA

I t’s been a little over forty-eight hours since Colt was admitted to the ICU.

The longest forty-eight hours of my life.

I’ve yet to leave this floor, let alone get anywhere close to leaving the hospital despite everyone trying to convince me to.

Between West, their father, and me, there has always been someone sitting with Colt, holding his hand, talking to him, begging him to come back to us.

Dalton returned yesterday morning like he promised, and the second he stepped into the room, I made my excuses and fled to the bathroom to avoid him.

He stayed for a couple of hours before disappearing. He returned in the evening, and he was clearly in a better mood than the first time we met because when I tried to disappear again, he stopped me.

I guess I can’t really blame him for being out of sorts that first night; he’d probably just watched his eldest son almost lose his life on the field on national TV. I hate that Colt is going to spend the rest of his life now reliving that awful moment. It should be forgotten, be put behind him, but I fear it never will be. But even still, the way Dalton spoke to me isn’t something I’m likely to forget.

West went home with his dad last night. It’s the first time he’s agreed to leave. He needs to go back to Chicago, but he’s refusing at this point.

Colt is improving. The doctors seem really pleased with his progress thus far, but until he’s breathing on his own, until we can look into his eyes again and hear his voice, I don’t think either of us will believe it.

We’re still too consumed by fear to allow ourselves to hope for anything.

I look up when there is a soft knock on the door, and a few seconds later, one of Colt’s nurses slips into the room.

“Good morning,” she says with a bright smile. “How’s our favorite patient?”

“No change as far as I can tell,” I say sadly.

“Ella,” she chastises lightly as she picks up the board at the end of Colt’s bed and studies the stats on it. “I know it can be disheartening not to see progress, but I promise you, your man is healing nicely.”

“I know. I trust you, I do. I just?—”

“Want to see proof,” she finishes for me. “Once the doctors do their rounds today, we’re going to discuss reducing his sedation, see how he deals with that.”

My heart jumps into my throat and I bolt up in the chair.

“You’re going to wake him up?” I ask.

“Don’t get too excited; this isn’t going to be a fast process. It could still be days until he’s conscious. He might not be ready,” she warns.

I deflate again.

“When he does wake up, he’s going to need you, though,” she says, giving me a familiar glare when she looks up from the clipboard.

“I know,” I whisper, my words barely audible.

“You need to take a few hours out. Go and eat a proper meal. Have a shower. Breathe some air that doesn’t smell like hospital.” A small frown creases her brows as she silently begs me to do what everyone has spent the last two days trying to convince me of.

“I can’t. I can’t leave him.”

“His brother will be here. All your friends, too. He’ll be well looked after, I promise. Something tells me that he won’t be happy when he wakes up and discovers you’re not taking care of yourself.” She lifts a brow. “When was the last time you ate?”

“Last night,” I say, glancing at the empty tub of Hershey bars.

“Chocolate isn’t a meal, Ella.”

No, it isn’t.

It isn’t anything when you purge it afterward.

Shame rolls through me. I should be stronger than this.

But I’m not.

“I’ll think about it,” I lie, and from the look she gives me, she knows it too.

I curl myself up in a ball and silently watch her as she does what she needs to do and excuses herself to visit another patient.

I get another two hours alone, lost in my own thoughts before West appears.

From the moment he steps into the room, it’s impossible to miss how much brighter he is from having a decent night's sleep. It makes me wince because of how bad I must look.

My last shower is a distant memory. And I have no idea when I last brushed my hair or teeth.

I’m gross. I know I am, but I also don’t care enough to do anything about it. What’s the point if I don’t have him?

“Any news?” he asks, dropping into his chair on the other side of Colt.

I explain what the nurse said about his sedation and hope covers his face.

He nods, taking it all in, but he doesn’t get carried away.

“El,” he says after a few minutes of silence. “I love you, you know that, but you really need to leave this room. You need to shower, eat. I know you don’t want to. I didn’t either. But I feel so much better for it.”

I shake my head.

“Ella, come on. I’ll be right here the whole time. I’ll call if?—”

I have no idea where the sudden surge of emotion comes from—maybe it’s the thought of leaving him here, or just pure exhaustion—but a sob erupts from my throat.

“Shit,” he gasps, jumping to his feet and rushing to my side. “I didn’t mean to upset you. You don’t smell that bad, I promise.”

Somehow, I manage to laugh through my tears, and all too soon, I’ve fallen into a delusional fit of giggles for no reason at all.

I’m so lost that I don’t hear the door open or anyone join us, and it’s not until a familiar voice hits my ears that reality begins to come back to me.

I blink, trying to clear the tears from my eyes, desperate to see if what I just heard is real or a figment of my fucked-up psyche right now.

But when my vision clears, I find the exact person I was expecting.

“Mom,” I cry, rushing forward and falling into her arms.

“Hi, baby,” she whispers in my ear as she holds me as tightly as I do her.

“We’re going to give you both a moment,” Letty says before slipping back out of the door, West hot on her heels.

“Oh baby, I’m so sorry you’re going through all this,” Mom says softly as I continue to cling to her like a lifeline.

“I thought he was dead, Mom,” I cry. “I thought it was over before we…before we e-even?—”

“Shush,” she soothes, smoothing my greasy hair down.

She guides me over to the cot bed I’ve been sleeping on and we sit huddled together.

“Everything is going to be okay, Ella.” She continues to hold me as she wipes the tears from my cheeks.

“You’re really here? In Seattle?”

She chuckles. The sound is like music to my ears.

“I am.”

“But you hate traveling.”

“I do, but my girl needs me. You have some incredibly selfless friends, Ella. I’ve been flown first class and everything.”

“They’re the best,” I confirm.

“You should see the hotel suite they’ve put me up in. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

I smell a rat long before she says anything else.

“It’s got two bedrooms, and both of them have these incredible bathtubs.”

“Mom,” I warn.

“Ella, baby,” she says, her voice becoming firmer. “I love you more than you could ever know, and I know you will hate me for this. But you have to leave this room.”

I nod, unable to argue with my mom like I have everyone else.

“Colt knows you’re here. He knows you’re supporting him. But he needs you to look after yourself. Please, Ella. Come back with me for a couple of hours. Let me take care of you. Let me do my job so you can do yours.”

Tucking my face into her neck, I cry again. I can’t argue with her.

By the time West and Letty return, I’ve managed to calm down and am almost prepared for what I need to do.

The second Letty steps into the room, I walk over and pull her into my arms.

“Thank you,” I whisper, squeezing her tight, trying to tell her without words how much what she’s done means to me.

I had no idea that I needed my mom right now. But she did.

“We’re going to take a couple of hours out,” Mom says, holding my hand the moment I release Letty. “You’re both going to stay here, and you’ll call us if anything happens, right?”

“Of course,” Letty agrees.

Sucking in a deep breath, I walk up to Colt and take his hand in mine.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I whisper. “But apparently, it’s what you’d want, so I’m going to do it for you. I’ll be back before you know it. I promise I’ll be right here the moment you wake up.”

Leaning over him, I press a kiss to his forehead, squeezing my eyes tight to try and stop the flood of tears that burn the backs of them.

“I love you, Colton Rogers. I can’t wait for you to come back to me.”

I take a step back and blow out a long breath as I try not to talk myself out of doing this.

They’re right. I need to leave. I know I do. But it’s just so hard.

Too fucking hard.

“Security guards are waiting for you at the department entrance. They will escort you out the back exit and take you straight to the hotel,” Letty explains. “There are a lot of press and fans out there desperate for any kind of news. Keep your head down and just walk, okay?”

I nod, already completely overwhelmed.

Colt’s publicist has been working hard on keeping the world updated as best she can on the situation, but it’s not enough for his desperate fans. Hell, it’s not enough for me, but there isn’t anything else we can give while he’s still sedated.

“My cell is right here,” Letty says, pulling it from her pocket.

“Thank you,” I say shakily. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Ella. Now go and look after yourself, and come back stronger for your man, yeah?”

I nod, hoping like hell it’s even possible. I feel nothing but broken right now, and I’m not sure a bath is capable of fixing that.

J ust as Letty explained, getting out of the hospital and to the car is terrifying. Even at the back exit that’s meant to be somewhat secure, there are people everywhere, barking questions, demanding to know how Colt is, sending their love and best wishes. I keep my eyes on the ground and try to focus on getting to the car, but the world around me spins out of control, blood rushing past my ears.

I’m so out of my depth it’s not even funny.

Mom holds my hand tightly the whole way, and she doesn’t let go until we’re safely delivered to her suite. The hotel on a normal day would only be minutes away from the hospital, but it took us almost half an hour just to get out of the hospital grounds. It was crazy.

I don’t see anything in the suite as Mom guides me to “my” room and then the bathroom.

Everything is a blur. My only focus is doing what I need to do and getting back to him.

She sits me on the closed toilet seat before running the bath and pouring an obscene amount of bubbles into it. It’s unlike her to be so wasteful that I can’t help but do a double take.

“Sometimes, you just need all the bubbles,” she explains. “Now, can you do this alone or…” She looks between me and the tub.

As much as I want to demand she stay and help me, I force a smile onto my lips and tell her that I’m fine.

I can’t remember the last time I ate, and I’m terrified she’ll see exactly what I’m doing if I’ve lost so much as an inch of weight.

When I first started on this dark journey as a teenager, I did an incredible job of hiding what I was doing. It’s something she’s beat herself up about every single day since, and the thought of hurting her, of disappointing her by relapsing, terrifies me. She deserves better than that. She’s a better mother than to have a daughter who can’t cope when things get hard.

“I’m going to order your favorites from room service. Take your time and call me if you need me, okay?”

I nod, and she takes my face in her hands.

“Everything will be okay, Ella. Have faith, yeah?”

Her eyes search mine. I have no idea what she finds staring back at her, but it’s good enough for her to leave me alone a few minutes later, trusting that I’ll be okay.

Two hours.

I allow myself two hours before I walk back into his hospital room again and refuse to leave until I get to look into his eyes.