Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 101205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
If only I could have said it right back to her.
I used the lunchtime break to head across to Gavton Ward. Dr Mitchell was expecting me and led me into his room, digging his papers out from his cabinet before taking his seat.
“Don’t give me any bullshit,” I told him. “Just give me the news.”
He gave me the news.
I understood every scrap of it.
I understood exactly what it meant.
I was the weatherman, fully aware what storm was coming, before any of the clouds reached the shore.
It was ok.
This time, it was really ok.
I focused on Franklin Ward and nothing else. I choked down my pain every night, and stared at the insulin, and fought back the tears at Mum’s letter, and I focused on Franklin Ward. Always tried to focus on Franklin Ward.
Days passed by and Chloe appeared in my doorway every morning. Every morning she’d sit in the chair opposite me and give me the same words before she got up and went about her day.
“I love you, Logan. I can say it a million times, but it doesn’t matter. I’ll keep on loving you.”
Every day I did my best to ignore her.
Every day I did my best to let her go.
The staff on the ward were different after my few days’ leave, shooting me sympathetic glances every time I passed by. I knew they knew my mum was dead. I knew they were feeling for me, and sad for my pain, but I didn’t want it. I didn’t want anyone feeling any pain for me. I didn’t want anyone feeling anything for me.
So, I kept them at arm’s length, just like the old days, before Chloe sprang into my world. I didn’t speak, and didn’t share, just focused on Franklin Ward. Always on Franklin Ward.
My evenings were filled with practicalities, keeping me busy at home.
My days were filled with being a doctor, helping people in their weakest moments, even while I was battling mine.
People were calling me at home, on my phone as well as on Mum’s, giving their condolences and crying their tears, and so sad, so sad, but I didn’t want them. I didn’t want anything but to say the very last farewell to my mother and commit her to ashes at Redwood Crematorium.
Days on end I waited. Days on end the arrangements took time to come together. Until finally, thank fuck, the ceremony began to take shape.
I gave people the details, dishing out the information to Mum’s friends like it was just some standard appointment at the hospital, then I alerted the hospital coordinators of the funeral date. Another tick of the practicalities box. They assured me that Rachel Edwards would be available for my shift. Good. Excellent. Everything in place for the service.
All except my jitterbug.
Even as the funeral drew near, I said nothing to any of my ward team, no acknowledgement of me committing Mum to the fire. No acknowledgement of being a man grieving in a ward filled with grief.
Until the night before.
There was a tiny little break in my armour the night before.
Chloe was in reception when I left Franklin Ward that night, propped up at the desk as she checked through her medication forms, and this time, for the first time in days, I reached out for her, taking hold of her arm as she met my eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I told her. “Honestly, Chloe, I’m sorry.”
Her shrug lit up my heart, the same usual manner from the same gorgeous little creature.
“So, don’t be sorry,” she said. “Don’t be sorry anymore and stop pushing me away, will you?”
I only wished I could.
“Goodnight, jitterbug,” I said, and this time, for the first time in forever, I stepped out of the ward before she did.
48
Chloe
The weekend had been a crap one, trying to get through the days without Logan. I spent time with Mum, Dad and Beano, but my heart was in pieces. Still, I was determined. Every day in Franklin Ward I put myself on the line.
I was getting pretty used to the routine, heading down the corridor to Logan’s consultancy room every morning. It was a ritual I was confident in, rapping at his door then pacing my way inside, plopping myself down into the chair opposite him and telling him how much I loved him.
I wasn’t expecting it when I swung the door open that morning and walked straight in on Dr Edwards sitting there in Logan’s seat. My face must have paled, jaw dropping to the floor as she stared over at me.
“Can I help you, Chloe?” she asked, but there was no way she could help me. Not unless she could click her fingers with a Ta-da! and give me my Logan back.
My words came tumbling.
“Lo – I mean, Dr Hall,” I paused. “Is he not in today?”
She shook her head. “I don’t believe so. I’ve been asked to cover him on the ward.”