Impossibly Forever: Two Books in One (Impossibly Duology) (15 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Branden

  
I had no idea
how long I’d been in the hospital
following the surgery. One thing I did know was that Moya was there every day,
with me. The whole time I slept I heard her voice, comforting me, beseeching me
to open my eyes and look at her.

  
Moya’s voice was like honey, sweetening the air. On every visit she would plant
tender kisses on my lips that made me eager to wake up and pull her in for
more.

  
And now, there I was, waking up. The blinding rays from the sun made me squint
as I opened my eyes and surveyed the room. I breathed steadily and felt around
at the tip of my fingers for a button to call the nurse. She rushed in
immediately, all smiles as she walked over to the bed.

  
“Mr. McCarthy, you’re awake. How do you feel?” she asked, giving me a glance
over.

  
“I’m all right,” I said.

  
She tapped my hand and said softly, “I’ll notify Doctor Henderson and your
family,” leaving right after making sure I was in good condition.

  
Already, my body felt relieved—like the surgery got rid of the sickness for
good. Still, I was a little weakened by the procedure, so it would probably
take me longer to heal this time than it did last.

  
The nurse had apparently done as she’d said, because shortly after Doctor
Henderson checked in on me, my family arrived. One by one, they each popped in
the room.

  
 “Oh, Branden, I’m so glad you’re finally awake, honey,” Mom gushed as she
hurried over to the bed.

  
I squeezed her hand gently as I said, “I’m glad, too. I can’t wait to be all
better so I can get out of here.” And continue where I left off with Moya. I
was all jitters. Now that news was out that I was awake, I knew it would only
be moments until I got to see her beautiful face again. And I couldn’t wait.

  
Dad kept a stern expression and stuck his hands in his pockets after reaching
my side, trying not to break down again. He nodded at me, “Can’t wait till this
is all behind us, son.”

  
Of course, Ashton charged over, jerking me with care. “Bran, you little prick.
You scared the crap out of us.”

  
Mom cleared her throat and sighed for him to settle down. Ashton regarded her
face and teased, “Don’t worry. I won’t hurt your baby.” They seem to be making
an effort, because the look in her eyes appeared softer now when she stared at
him. My condition probably impacted them a lot.

  
Looking back at me, Ashton said more seriously, “I’m really glad you’re all
right, little brother.”

  
I eased up and took a long breath, “Yeah, me too. Glad to be alive.”

  
Everyone laughed, grateful. I looked around the room at their pleasant faces
and felt more appreciative than ever for my family. Then the door opened
halfway and we all stopped suddenly to see who it was. An alluring creature
poked her head in.

  
Moya stood in the doorway, shyly. “Hey,” she said.

  
“Hello, dear,” Mom said in a warm, welcoming voice.

  
Ashton broke through the stillness and ordered, “Everybody out.” He walked to
the other side of the bed and tugged on Mom’s elbow, leading her to the door.
“Give them a moment.”

  
“Okay, I get it,” Mom chuckled, touching Moya lightly on the arm as she exited
the room with Ashton. Dad followed behind them, pausing at the door to offer
Moya a quick nod before leaving the room as well.

  
Afterwards, Moya walked over slowly to the edge of the bed, observing me with
care. Dressed simply in a long sweater and jeans, the sight of her was still
breathtaking. She gave me ultimate joy, like I was in utopia.

  
“You scared me there,” she said, touching my big toe lightly.

  
I exhaled, “I know, that was mean. But I’m going to spend the rest of my life
making it up to you.”

  
Moya sauntered around to the side of the bed and sat down, mindful of putting
any weight on my body. “You promise?” She tilted her head to the side and
peered down at me with that fiery gaze I adored.

  
I snaked my hand around her lower back, pulling her closer. “I promise.”

  
Seeming satisfied and relieved, Moya brushed away the loose curls from her face
as she moved closer to my lips. Her voice softened to a whisper, “I love you,
Branden McCarthy.”

  
I shifted a bit on the bed and made myself more comfortable, clutching her with
both hands to draw Moya further into my chest, gently. “I love you too, Moya
Douglas McCarthy.”

  
Her brows shot up. My assertion amazed her.

  
I didn’t allow it to sink in as I voraciously kissed her lips, making up for
all the time I’d spent unconscious.

  
It was going to be a very long kiss. Soon after, I’d share with her my plans
for us. Because I was certain more than ever, Moya was the girl of my dreams.
The girl I’d decided I was going to spend the rest of my life with. In the end,
she made it all seem not so impossible at all.

PART TWO

IMPOSSIBLY

TRUE

CHAPTER THIRTY

Branden

  
There are three things
in my life which make me happy. I mean Leonardo
DiCaprio kind of happy, complete with a shout-out about being “king of the
world!” Those three things are my health, my girl and hockey.

  
After surgery, that annoying pain in my chest was gone. I mean, I felt good.
Not a speck of pain or shortness of breath.
Nothing.
I
was back to being the old Branden McCarthy before getting sick. I’d begun my
sophomore year at college and fell in love with a beautiful girl.
A girl who remained by my side, even when I was hospitalized.
 
I won her heart and love.

  
Finally.

  
Yes, things were definitely working out. My life was mine again. Playing hockey
was a possibility too. I contacted the Athletics Department at Easton
University and inquired about joining the team next fall. Of course, I had to
provide medical documents—proof I was no longer sick and could handle the
exertion and stress of a demanding sport—but like I said, happiness was mine.

  
It was almost three months now, since I had surgery to correct my aortic
dissection, and almost three months since dropping the m-bomb on Moya that I
intended to give her the McCarthy name. Of course, after some careful
consideration, we decided to spend more time getting to know each other since
I’d fallen for her last semester, before taking such a huge step. Actually, it
was more of her decision. Not mine. I’d marry her today if she wanted.

  
Christmas was right around the corner, so she’d be on winter break soon. I was
excited for that because I’d been planning a weekend getaway for us. She could
use some relaxation after finals, and I needed to get out of this house.

  
When I first came home from the hospital, I spent my days slowly recuperating:
doing physical therapy, and checking in with Doctor Henderson ever so often.
Mom turned into my full-time nurse—as smothering as ever—and Dad went back to
his usual self, burying his head in work. I didn’t let anything bother me
anymore though. I only focused on getting my strength back.

  
Crap. If I hadn’t gotten sick again, I would have been wrapping up my first
semester as a sophomore like Moya, instead of preparing to repeat it. Still, I
can’t complain. The other alternative I faced was grim—I could have died.

  
Aside from getting healthy, there were a few things I hadn’t expected. Like
Ashton deciding to join his college’s study abroad program. My older brother
would be traveling to Spain at the start of the New Year. But the one surprise
that shocked the hell out of me was the return of someone I never wanted to see
again.

  
Samantha.

  
My ex-girlfriend showed up at my house.

  
I hadn’t checked to see who had rung the bell before answering the door. And
when our eyes met, my healing heart felt as if it shot up my throat. After she
dumped me, I’d been pissed at her for a long time. I’d called her so many
things inside my mind.

  
Her sorrowful gray eyes, brimming with regret, failed to faze me today. If
anything, her staring at me only made me tighten my grip on the door handle,
fingers threatening to slam the panel of wood closed in her damn
face.   

  
“What are you doing here?” I asked bitterly. “Did my mother put you up to
this?”

  
A gush of December wind followed my question. Samantha hugged herself, gripping
her jacket against her small body. If she believed I was going to let her in out
of the cold, she thought wrong. I had no remorse left for her.

  
‘I just…” her voice cracked. “I wanted to see how you were doing. Your mom told
me about the surgery. She stopped by the bank where I work a few days ago and—”

  
“I don’t care,” I hissed.

  
Samantha edged closer. The intense smell of her perfume burned my nostrils.
She’d always put on so much when we were dating. I hated it.

  
“I know you’re still mad about what happened, but Branden, what would you have
done if you were me?”

  
“What would I have done?” I repeated. Irritation pulsed through my veins. “I
wouldn’t have said ‘you’re gonna die, and it’ll hurt too much for me so I’m
breaking up with you.’”

  
Trembling, she brushed her long, shiny blonde hair behind her ears and said lowly,
“I was scared…I didn’t have the strength to watch you suffer.”

  
“I called you after the first surgery,” I reminded her. “I told you I was all
right, that we could try again. And what did you say then?”

  
Her eyes watered, tears fighting to escape. “I…I wasn’t sure
if—”          

  
“What did you say?” I asked through clenched teeth.

  
Samantha quivered at the harshness in my tone. She peered down at her hands
while murmuring, “I couldn’t go back.” Her words were like whispers.

  
I laughed.
“Exactly.
So what the hell do you want
now?”

  
Glancing up at me, she lifted a hand to touch my cheek. I stepped backwards.
Samantha drew a deep breath before saying, “I miss you, Branden. I’ve been
thinking about you…about us. I want to talk and try to work things out. I’m
sorry I ran away when you needed me most. But, I really want to fix things
now.”

  
I folded my arms across my chest, trying to tame my anger. “You’re too late.”

  
She blinked. A single tear fell down her cheek. Shaking her head, she wiped it
away fast. “It’s not too late. What we had was real. We both love each other,
and if we try to be friends at least, then maybe we could get past—”

  
“No. I’ve already found someone else.”

  
Astonished, her eyes widened like a deer in headlights. Samantha screwed up her
face in confusion.

  
“What do you mean?” she asked. “I don’t understand.”

  
I scoffed. “What’s not to understand? There’s someone else in my life now. I’ve
moved on.”

  
She hugged herself again. Her lips twitched as she searched for something to
say.

  
I started to close the door. “I have stuff to—”

  
“I’m not giving up,” she blurted, stopping the door with her hand.

  
“What?”

  
“I’m not going to run away again. This time, I’m going to fight.”

  
Looking her straight in the eyes, I said for the last time, “Samantha, we’re
over.” Then I closed the door in her
face,
and on that
chapter in my life. What made her even decide to show up now? I hadn’t seen her
in months. Was my mother the mastermind behind this?