Chapter 16

Benzodiazepines were a group of drugs generally used to treat anxiety, insomnia, panic disorders, and other related issues.

That was what the internet told Miranda when she typed the word "Ativan" into a search bar. That was the name on the sachet of drugs she had discovered in Matthew Devin's jacket and that was the drug he had overdosed on.

Miranda sat on the cold, metallic chair in the waiting room of the Intensive Care Unit, utterly devastated. The nurses' station opposite the row of chairs where she sat was devoid of nurses as they, moved throughout the hospital, attending to one issue after the other.

Her hair was scattered, the shoes on her feet mismatched, and the shirt she wore was not properly buttoned, a true reflection of her mental state.

The man she loved was unconscious and currently fighting for his life. There was nothing in her twenty-four years of life that prepared her for this. Every breath was a struggle, every second torture.

She pulled up her feet, wrapping her hands around her knees. Tears and prayers flowed from her incessantly. If there was anything she could do, anything she could give, she would have done it and she would have given it.

But the reality was that she was completely and totally powerless. She could do nothing.

And so, she clasped her hands and waited for news. Good news.

It was a harrowing wait of over two hours. Walter had told her when he brought her over to the hospital what had happened in her absence. The guest had left and the receptionist on Matthew's floor had informed him that Matthew was not responding to any of the calls posted to his office.

Walter had opened the door with a key only he had to find Matthew lying on the floor, cold and unconscious. Ever since then, the CEO had been in the hospital undergoing various procedures to remove the excess drug from his system and to counteract its effects.

Because he was currently in the ICU, only family members were allowed in. If she wanted to see him, she had to wait until he was stable enough to be moved to a regular ward.

During the time that she spent waiting, Matthew's mother and father came out regularly to stay with her, comforting her and being comforted. She told them what happened at the company and their faces contorted into an expression of understanding and pain at the same time.

She wanted to know what it was they understood but she could not ask. Their expressions, however, set her thinking. If that event was the trigger that caused Matthew to overdose, then she could have prevented it. She could have returned to the office and heeded his cry for help the way he heeded hers.

But no, she'd left. Walked out of the building and away from him. At the moment, he needed her, she'd left him.

Therefore, at the end of the wait, when the doctors finally brought some news to them, Miranda was a ball of self-disgust and dejection. She wanted to leave, feeling like her presence was a stain on the bleak-white hospital.

The doctor, though, bore good news. "He is stable. It was a good thing and an advantage that we knew the type of drug he overdosed on. That allowed us to employ the appropriate measures to save him."

The trio heaved a sigh of relief, their faces expressing a cautious joy.

"He is stable," the doctor repeated. "But he is unconscious for now. He will probably wake up in the night or early in the morning. He will be disoriented for a while, but we hope that within a few days, he will be back to full strength."

"Thank you," Matthew's mother said, reaching out to clasp the doctor's hands. "I will be eternally grateful."

Miranda nodded, unable to speak.

"You are welcome. Have a nice evening," the doctor said. He walked down the hallway and disappeared around the corner. The nurses came soon after and Matthew was moved into a private room on a higher floor of the hospital. Once he was settled in, they were informed that they could go in and see him.

Samantha turned to Miranda. "Let's go see him."

Miranda shook her head, guilt forming a pit in her stomach. "No, I can't. I should stay here. It was my fault that…" Her self-reprimanding was interrupted as Samantha pulled her into a hug. Miranda was initially shocked but as the petite woman held her, she felt the pain she harbored leach out of her.

"Matthew cares for you. Immensely. And I think that he needs you by his side now more than ever," Samantha said when they separated.

His father nodded from beside the two women.

Miranda shook her head again, disagreeing. "Mr. Devin has been kind to me. But this is my fault and…."

"No, Miranda. Walter told me that you are living with him now. That is not simple care or kindness. I know my son. He tries at times to hide things from me, but I know him. Go see him. He wants to see you. He cares for you."

Samantha's kind words stirred a strange feeling of warmth in her and she looked at the small woman and felt something she had never felt with her birth mother. Love.

This was a mother. A true mother. Not just one that had birthed a child.

Miranda closed her eyes and tears spilled out of her lids. "Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you."

Samantha said nothing, patting her on the back and pushing her towards the hallway where his room was located. Miranda swallowed and walked to the room where Matthew was currently resting. Everything felt preternatural to her. the coolness of the metal handle as she opened the door, the smell of strong disinfectant and chemicals permeating the walls, the low temperature of the room as she stepped in and closed the door behind her.

And of course, the sight of the most important person in her life lying on a hospital bed plugged into a machine that beeped steadily with every beat of his heart.

She gasped as she saw his eyes open slightly at her entrance. He was awake. She remained at the door, her heart full and tight at the seams. She inhaled and walked slowly to the bed; his eyes following her every step As Miranda got closer, she could really see the extent to which the overdosing had wrecked his body. Nasal prongs had been inserted into his nostrils to aid in his breathing. He looked haggard like a man defeated and nothing as he had in the afternoon.

Without a word, Miranda stood at the side of the bed, twiddling her hands. She looked for something to say but there really wasn't anything she could say.

The guilt that Samantha had dispersed in the waiting area pooled in her stomach again and it suddenly felt like there was no oxygen in the room.

"I'm sorry," she said. Her knees folded and she fell to the ground. "I'm so sorry. I saw you. I heard you but I…" She panted, unable to continue. She stared at the white tiles of the floor, defeated. "I'm sorry…

Matthew stared at the apologizing woman and felt his heart rate speed up. He loved her. He could not deny it any longer. He loved her. There was simply no other way to explain the intensity of his emotions, positive or otherwise, whenever he was around her.

He loved Miranda. He cared for her intensely.

The admission came with a drastic emotional shift. He felt exposed, vulnerable and unprotected. He wanted to give her everything he was and everything he had but he was afraid that she would reject him, shattering him into infinitesimal pieces.

It would be too much to handle.

But there was something he could handle now. He lifted his hand slowly and with great effort and patted her on the head. His touch was soft but Miranda jolted as if he had just poked her with a sharp needle.

She looked up slowly, his hand not dislodging from its position. His eyes met her wide eyes. She was shocked and so was he. He was touching a woman. Willingly.

To an even greater surprise, he had not pulled his hand away immediately. He held her, touched her, and brushed her hair.

"You keep apologizing. I don't know what for. How are you?" he croaked, throat dry.

She leaned into his touch and his heart sped up again. "I'm…fine. I w-was so worried. I've been so worried."

"I'm sorry, Miranda. I never wanted to worry you. I just had a very bad day, and I made a mistake."

She looked into his eyes as if she wanted to see into his very soul. "Was it because of the woman? Was that why you…made a mistake?"

"Yes, it was." He did not want to lie to her. There was simply no merit in doing so. Nevertheless, the incident was still too painful to talk about. "Miranda, I don't want to speak about the issue now."

She nodded. "Of course, I didn't mean to interrogate you or anything. I just wanted to know if there was something I could do to help you."

"Yes, there is."

She perked up, taking his hand in hers and rising from the floor. "What is it? I'll do it immediately."

"Stay with me."

Without wasting a second, she replied. "Always."