My phone buzzed with a message from Collins. "We need to talk,"
it read, followed by a brief description: Rebecca was alive but in a coma.
After the meeting I have in my laptop, my mind was a storm of thoughts. Claire's public accusations felt like an avalanche, but the news from Collins hit me harder: Rebecca was alive but in a coma. My heart raced with disbelief and hope, battling against the whirlwind of emotions.
I stood in my office, struggling to focus when I heard Jake and Lily in the hallway. Their innocent voices broke through my haze.
"What do you think Mommy meant when she said we should tell Daddy she's gone?" Lily asked, her voice shaky.
Jake responded with confusion. "Maybe she thought it would be easier for him if he thought she was dead?"
"Do you think she'll wake up?" Lily asked.
"I don't know," Jake replied. "But she told me to tell Daddy she's dead, just in case."
I felt a surge of pain at their words. They were carrying a secret too heavy for them. I took a deep breath and stepped into the hallway, knowing I had to address this.
"Hey, you two," I said softly, kneeling to meet their curious eyes. "Can we talk for a minute?"
"Sure, Dad," Jake replied, though concern shadowed his features.
I needed to know what they were feeling. "I heard you talking about your mom. What did she say exactly?"
Lily fidgeted, her small hands twisting nervously. "She told us to say she's gone because she might not wake up."
The weight of her words crushed me. "I have some news. Rebecca is alive, but she's in a coma right now."
Their eyes widened, disbelief washing over them. "So she's not dead?" Jake asked, hope flickering in his voice.
"No," I said, feeling a glimmer of relief. "But she's fighting to wake up, and I need you both to understand that."
"What if she doesn't wake up?" Jake asked, fear creeping into his voice.
I took a moment to steady myself. "We have to hold onto hope. She loves you both so much, and I believe she wants to come back to us."
Lily's brow furrowed with confusion. "But why did she tell us to say she was gone? That doesn't make sense."
I felt the heaviness in my chest. "I think she was scared. Sometimes people say things when they're afraid or confused. She didn't want to hurt us."
Jake crossed his arms, trying to process it all. "But if she loves us, why wouldn't she want to see us?"
"Because sometimes love means making hard choices," I replied, feeling a deep ache for both my children and Rebecca. "She might have thought it would protect you."
Lily looked down, wrestling with her emotions. "So she's scared, and that's why she told us to keep it a secret?"
"Yes, and we need to respect that. But it's also important to talk about her, to remember her love."
Jake's serious expression mirrored my own thoughts. "Do you think we can visit her?"
"I need to find out more about her condition first," I said, determination surging within me. "But I promise, if we can, we'll go see her together. She would want that."
Their faces brightened slightly, but I could see the uncertainty lingering. "Can we talk to her when she wakes up?" Lily asked softly.
"Absolutely," I assured her, my heart swelling. "And I'll be there with you every step of the way."
Later that evening, as I sat in my study, the weight of the day pressed down on me. I had a long road ahead, filled with challenges I never anticipated. But I was ready to face them—not just for myself, but for Jake and Lily, and for Rebecca.
"I'll find a way to reach her," I vowed silently. "For you and for her."
As night fell, the flickering candlelight in my study cast long shadows on the walls, mirroring the turmoil in my mind.
I pulled out my laptop, determined to delve into the details of Rebecca's condition. Each click echoed the gravity of my promise to Jake and Lily. I needed answers—what were the chances she might wake up?
Suddenly, my phone buzzed again. It was Collins, urging me to meet urgently. My heart raced; this could be the ultimate breakthrough I needed.
I glanced at the kids, sleeping peacefully, their faces relaxed in dreams untainted by the chaos surrounding us.
I took a deep breath, the resolve hardening within me. Whatever it took, I would fight for Rebecca, for my children, and for our family. I grabbed my keys and headed out, ready to face whatever awaited me.
The drive to the café where Collins had asked to meet felt interminable. The streets blurred past, my mind racing with possibilities.
What could Collins have uncovered? As I pulled into the parking lot, a flicker of hope ignited in my chest.
Inside, Collins was already seated, his expression serious. I joined him at the table, urgency coursing through me. "What's going on? You said it was urgent."
He leaned in, lowering his voice. "I've got information about Rebecca's situation. It's more complicated than we thought."
I braced myself, every instinct on high alert. "What do you mean?"
"She's stable for now, but the doctors are concerned about her neurological responses. They're running tests to determine the extent of any damage."
"Damage?" The word felt like a punch to my gut. "What are the chances she'll wake up?"
Collins hesitated. "It's hard to say. Some patients recover fully, others... don't. It depends on various factors. But there's something else—Rebecca had a note in her belongings."
"A note?" I echoed, my heart racing again. "What did it say?"
He pulled out a small piece of paper and slid it across the table. "I thought you should see it for yourself."
I picked it up, scanning the hurried scrawl. It was a mix of fragmented thoughts, but one line stood out: *I'm sorry for the burden I've become.*
"What does this mean?" I asked, feeling a sense of dread settling in my chest.
Collins sighed. "It suggests she was struggling more than we realized. It might have contributed to her state of mind before the accident."
I felt anger rise. "So, she felt alone? Why didn't she reach out?"
"Sometimes, people don't know how to ask for help," Collins replied, his tone steady. "We can't change the past, but we can be there for her now."
"Yeah, but how? If she wakes up, how do I make her understand that she's not a burden?"
Collins leaned back, contemplating. "It starts with showing her she's loved—by you, by the kids. You'll have to find a way to convey that when the time comes."
I nodded, determined fueling my thoughts. "I'll be there. I'll fight for her. I just wish I could do more right now."
"Focus on supporting Jake and Lily too. They'll need you just as much."