Page 64 of Teaching Roman

Chapter Twenty-Nine

The flight was overbooked,so we spent it in separate aisles. I tried to distract myself with the magazines that Cassie had thoughtfully thrown in my purse, but mostly I obsessed over Roman: how he was feeling, whether or not he really wanted me here with him, when I would get to be alone with him. Inevitably, my thoughts turned to guilt for being more focused on our relationship than on Aba’s condition.

But all my doubts and insecurities vanished when I found him waiting for me at the top of the jet bridge. His face said everything I needed to hear to calm my fears. We were in this together, and we both finally realized it.

There was no time to stop at the hotel that Cassie had arranged for me. Instead, we headed straight to the hospital. Roman hadn’t received any more messages from the doctor, so we could only hope she hadn’t taken a turn for the worse. The halls of the hospital squeaked against our shoes, and there was a faint smell of bleach in the air. Most people felt uncomfortable in hospitals, but not me. I belonged here. Still, for the first time since my Dad died I felt nervous as a man in a white lab coat crossed to greet us at the door to Aba’s room. Thanks to my studiousness I understood bits of what he was saying, including the fact that visitors to this unit were limited to family only.

I pulled my hand from Roman’s, giving him a reassuring smile. He needed to be with Aba right now, and I wouldn’t go far. “I’ll wait outside. Right here.”

Roman shook his head, grabbing my hand and clasping it tightly as he said something quickly to the doctor. The other man nodded in understanding and motioned for us to enter the room. I didn’t have time to ask him what he’d said, and it hardly seemed important when I spotted Aba’s frail form in the hospital bed.

“He says she’s in critical condition. The damage to her heart was very severe,” he said in a whisper. “She’s not maintaining consciousness well.”

I didn’t need him to explain what that meant. We were lucky we got here when we did, because she wouldn’t last much longer. Roman dropped softly onto the bed, took her hand, and waited. In that moment I would have given anything for her to wake up, because the thought of him not getting to say goodbye was more than I could bear.

“Aba,” he said, but there was no response.

I placed a hand on his shoulder but said nothing.

“You have to wake up,” he said, his voice cracking. “Jess is here. We’re here together.”

Tears sat in a lump in my throat, and I tried to swallow against them. I’d only met Aba a few months ago, but she raised the man I loved and I wanted to know her longer.

“You were right,” Roman continued, “about her and me. You can’t walk away from love. I shouldn’t have tried to, but I don’t want you to worry. I won’t lose her again.”

He reached up and wove his fingers through mine, and it was there. The electric charge I always felt at his touch, but it had shifted. It had evolved into more—something deeper and harder to explain. It penetrated past my skin, into my blood and made a home in my bones. I had never felt anything like it before and with it came a sense of unshakable certainty—a pure, undeniable moment of clarity. This was it.

Roman was theone.

It was somehow truer than simply being in love, and the realization sucked the air from my chest.

“Bien.” Aba’s blessing was thick and cottony, and although she didn’t open her eyes, I rushed from Roman’s side to find her a cup of water.

The pitcher in her room was empty, so I caught Roman’s eye and pointed to it. He nodded and leaned in to speak with his grandmother.

The hallway was deserted, so I took my chances, hoping I would find a nurse or a bathroom or even a garden hose at this point. Anything to help Roman have more time with Aba. Rounding the corner, I knocked into a nurse. The pitcher fell to the floor and she bent to pick it up, popping back onto her feet and holding it out to me.

“Agua?” I asked, pointing to it.

“Para?”

“Room one twenty-seven.” I held up a hand to correct myself. “No, ciento veintisiete.” I’d probably butchered that but I was hoping my recent flirtations with a Spanish language learning app would pay off.

She nodded and took it from me. I tiptoed back to Aba’s room, but hesitated at the door. Roman and Aba were speaking in low voices while he stroked her hand. As much as I wanted to be there for him right now, I also wanted to give him privacy. I would be with him but I didn’t want to impose on the time he had left with her.

“Señora Markson?”

I turned to discover the nurse was speaking to me. She offered me the pitcher.

“Oh, no, I’m not…” I blushed at her assumption.

The nurse looked confused as I took the pitcher from her. “Tù eres la esposa de el?”

Esposa. I had never learned that word but it seemed pretty obvious.

Before I could respond, an alarm sounded down the hall and she dashed off, leaving me with a pitcher full of water and a red face. I guess it was natural to assume I was Roman’s wife since I was here at his side, but part of me was relieved that Roman hadn’t heard it. Not while we were on the shaky legs of our newborn reconciliation.

When I took the pitcher inside, Aba was awake and she smiled at me, even now she lit up the room. It was hard to imagine she was in such bad shape, but heart conditions were tricky like that. I couldn’t help but hold out hope that she might get better.