Elle Wright - Wherever You Are

Avery knew what that meant. Years of studying to become a doctor hadn’t left her. Vision changes brought on by a stroke were hard to overcome. The likelihood of regaining her sight was low, rare. Squeezing her eyes closed, she couldn’t hold it back any longer. She sobbed openly, screamed loudly, drowning out everything around her. It was an uncontrollable, ugly cry. In that moment, she didn’t care who heard her. Nothing mattered, not appearances, not her pride.

Jess held her, rubbed her back and murmured words of encouragement in her ear. “Oh, hun, I’m here. I won’t leave. You can depend on me.”

“What am I going to do?” Avery cried. “How am I—?” She choked as the tears continued to flow.

“Avery?”

Avery froze. Turning her head to his voice, she called his name. “El?”

“Yes,” he said. His calm voice soothed like balm to an open wound.

“You’re here?” It wasn’t a question. Well, at least, she hadn’t intended it to be.

She reached out and within a few seconds she felt the stubble on his chin. She inhaled the lingering scent of his cologne, let the notes of sage, lavender and mandarin ease her mind. Her fingers traced the outline of his forehead, felt the frown lines on his forehead. She brushed the line of his nose and ran her thumb over his full lips.

She smelled the hazelnut on his breath, felt it against her cheek as he leaned in.

“You’re okay,” he told her. “You’re going to be just fine.”

Her first response to his words was to nod in agreement. Because, for some reason, she believed him. Logically, she knew the odds, but El had a way of making her believe almost anything.

The press of his forehead against her temple made her turn her head toward him. She needed a deeper connection to him in that moment. The tips of his fingers brushed the outline of her ear and she savored the touch.

The tenderness he showed her, despite everything she’d put him through, was enough to make her belly ache with yearning. He’d known what she needed right then. He always knew how to take the pain away, if only for a brief moment. When the warmth of his mouth pressed against her forehead, she held her breath and let the flutter in her stomach take over.

His proximity, his presence, was what she needed to handle the shock of her trauma. Vaguely she felt moisture drizzle down the arm Jess was holding. Her poor friend was probably a nervous wreck. Avery had to be strong. She had to figure out her next steps.

“I need answers,” Avery said, sucking in all of her emotions. Her question wasn’t directed to anyone specific, though. She sensed the quiet presence of many people in the room and she wanted to know the extent of the damage.

“It was a hemorrhagic stroke that accompanied the onset of hypertensive encephalopathy. Your body couldn’t take the sudden increase in your blood pressure,” a strange voice explained. She assumed it was a doctor. “Ms. Montgomery, my name is Dr. Thorne. I’m the neuro-ophthalmologist assigned to your case. I’ve been briefed on your history and your knowledge of medicine, so I’ll be candid. As you know, it’s too soon to ascertain if your sight will return. But based on the latest scans, there is a good chance it will.”

Avery closed her eyes and said a silent prayer to God for healing.

“Avery?” El called. “We’re all here to help. There is more testing to be done, but I’m going to need you to hold it together. We can’t afford another spike in your blood pressure right now. I know you’re scared, but try to relax and let them do their work.”

El then introduced her to every other physician in the room. Some she knew and some she didn’t. He must’ve informed them all of her background, because they spoke to her in a language only used among one of their own. Once she’d received the updates, she opened her eyes.

It wasn’t a dream. She still couldn’t see a damn thing. She darted her eyes back and forth, hoping something would give. No faces, nothing—until the glint of metal flashed into her view. It was small, but she immediately knew what it was. It was the metal on El’s watch—the watch she’d given him.

A tear slid down her cheek, and it startled her because she hadn’t realized she was crying again. She felt the pad of El’s thumb sweep across her face, then felt a soft tissue against her skin. Her emotions were all over the place but she knew she couldn’t afford to let them get the best of her. She needed to get through this so she could go back to her life. As soon as possible.

Later, after countless scans, multiple blood draws and too many neurological exams, Avery was over it. Everything in her wanted to blow up, yell at everyone within earshot. She’d done just that a little over an hour ago, taking no prisoners, and she didn’t even care if she’d hurt feelings.

Avery shook her head, lifting her chin high in the air. As she grew more restless, she felt her muscles quiver and her pulse speed up. Heat flushed through her body, straight to her toes. The despair she’d felt when she woke up surrounded by doctors, the slight hope she’d felt earlier when El was in the room, had been eclipsed by the fear she’d tried to trick away. And when Avery was scared, she became angry and irritable. Seeing the glint of El’s watch had been an isolated incident, a fluke, because the darkness seemed never ending. She’d yet to see anything, not even a flash of light.

She was too young, too busy, too smart for this. It wasn’t rocket science. She’d read all the textbooks, studied the medicine in school. She worked out regularly, ate healthy foods—when she remembered to eat. What the hell ?

As the cuff on her arm tightened uncomfortably, she squirmed in the bed. If she’d been able to see, she would have been out of there with “the quickness,” as they used to say back in the day. A nurse announced her vital signs and gave her a few pills. She didn’t ask what pills they were. She didn’t even care. She just wanted to feel better.

Her life wasn’t going to stop because she’d had a stroke. Who has a stroke at thirty-two years of age anyway ? The network was probably calling, wondering why she wasn’t in LA, wondering where her script edits were for the second season premiere.

“Getting angry isn’t going to help.”

Avery jumped at the sound of El’s voice, coming from the far left of the room. What was he doing there? She’d asked to be alone, even sent the reluctant Jess home to get rest. “Why are you here?” she growled. “Get out!”

She heard the click of his heels against the floor, but instead of heading toward the door, the steps grew closer to the bed. Then there was nothing. He was still there, though—watching her, assessing her like he undoubtedly did with his patients.

“What do you want from me?” she demanded. “We’re not together anymore. That was my choice for a reason. You don’t have to be here, and I don’t want you here.”

It was the first time she’d felt glad she couldn’t see his face. Her words had to have stung, and she didn’t want to see the evidence of that truth in his eyes. Most of all, she didn’t want him to see her like this, wounded and angry. Because for all of her bravado earlier, for all of her positive thoughts about her life not stopping because of this new development, she was a wrecking ball of emotion. She’d made a good living using her eyes, and knowing that there was a chance she’d never be able to see again ripped her to shreds. The only thing she wanted in that moment was to be alone so that no one could see her torment.

“You don’t have to pretend to care, El,” she added. “You made it perfectly clear at the auditorium that you still harbor resentment toward me for following my dreams instead of attaching myself to your coattails.”