Rewrite the Stars by Christina Consolino (classic fiction TXT) 📗

didn’t want to speak of it, even when you texted me, but then...well I didn’t think anything of his behavior until I got notice from your mom saying they found her car and Theo had been in an accident.”

“Oh, God.” I fell back against the car and placed my hands over my ears. My body and soul couldn’t handle hearing what might come next. “Why didn’t she call me? What—”

“Stop.” Andrew pulled my hands to my sides and leaned in toward me. “She put a call through to you, but when you didn’t answer, she went into crisis mode and got help. I’m pretty sure he loves you—still. Loves, not loved. He’s alive. Pretty bad off, but alive.” Always the gentleman, Andrew helped steady me against the hood of his car while tears trekked down my cheeks.

“Theo? Where is he and—”

“He’s at the hospital. Here. I called in a favor with an air ambulance company, and they flew him over. I’ll take you there.”

Muddled thoughts took hold of my brain, not letting go even with a shake of my head. “I texted him less than an hour ago, asking if he’d care to tell us when he’d be home...I haven’t heard from him in days. No wonder he hasn’t answered—” I rummaged in the pocket of my sweatshirt for a tissue.

“I know. He left his phone at the Inn, didn’t even have it with him. Apparently, he’s been in the ditch for a few days. He’s lucky someone found him and that the weather has been so good too. I didn’t want to tell you this over text or with a phone call. Mom managed anything that needed to be done in Petoskey for him, and I left to come back here. Your mom is on her way too.”

“How?”

“They’re not sure what happened yet,” Andrew continued. “But he needs you. We should get going.”

Clutching his fingers in mine, I looked up at Andrew through a watery haze. “Thank you,” I whispered.

“You’re welcome.”

 

.    .    .    .    .

Andrew and I didn’t speak much as he drove me to the hospital, mostly because what was there to say? And, I had other things on my mind. My interest strayed to my phone, where I first responded to Charlie’s text with a quick, I’ll try, and then checked and rechecked the messages I’d sent to Theo over the last week or so. The thread was mostly one-sided, but an exchange from earlier in the month, before our trip to Walloon, caught my eye.

How’s it going? I had texted.

You want to know?

That’s why I’m asking.

I want peace.

We all do.

I know.

Something in Theo’s text sliced through me like a sharp blade and goose bumps broke out along my arms. Had I missed something that day he sent this? Was this truly an accident or— A compulsion to continue reading overtook me. This new lens could reveal so much.

Okay, what do you need from me? I had asked.

I’m not sure, but you once said you weren’t made of steel. But you are.

And, I love you.

Holy shit. I had not seen that last addition to the thread back when he sent it. A simple no-frills I love you. What did it mean?

Now, my fingers automatically wanted to text back I love you too because I still did, in my own way, but he wouldn’t receive the reply, and the response seemed so contrived, inadequate, and to be quite frank, dishonest, even if I had sent it back then. An enormous deluge of emotions engulfed me as I gathered my shirt in my fists and held back a huge sob.

Andrew followed my lead, saying nothing while he extended a tissue toward me, allowing me to sit with my thoughts and memories. All the times in my life when I counted on Theo to be there flickered through my mind: how deep our love had once been, what he had meant to me and the children. My fingers dug into the skin of my chest, as if to hold in a heart that might burst through the flesh at the thought that Theo wasn’t okay.

Andrew deposited me at the hospital’s front doors, asked me to stay put, and then left to find a place to park. A compulsion propelled me to begin the hunt myself, and winding my way through the maze of hallways to the ICU, I found him. My lunch lurched into my throat at the sight of Theo tucked into the white sheets of the hospital bed. How his health had gone downhill so quickly stymied me. What had I missed over the last week? My face must have registered its shock, for the attending doctor cut into my thoughts.

“Don’t blame yourself for this. He’s a grown man.”

The words confused me; had I heard him correctly? “For this? What are you talking about?” I looked over to Theo and back to the doctor, whose face had turned a stark shade of pale.

“We don’t have all the details, but the authorities mentioned he meant to drive off the road. He wasn’t found for two days’ time. Theo had to have understood the repercussions of his actions.”

Ice breathed down the back of my neck, and a shakiness overtook me. “Oh my God. Are you kidding me?”

“I’m afraid not,” he said.

“But...how the hell did this happen?” I dropped into the metal chair next to the bed and placed my head in my hands, pulling at the roots of my hair to manage the pain ripping through me.

“Listen, clearly this is a plea for help. We’ll do what we can, but I’m not sure if he’ll recover at all...”

Did the doctor think I wasn’t smart enough to understand a cry for help when one presented itself?

“Yeah,” I said, unable to keep the rancor out of my voice. “I see he’s sending me a message. His kids can’t handle this. I can’t handle this.” I hauled myself out of the chair and snatched at the doctor’s arms, grabbing his shirt in