Match Point

Chapter 50: I Think About it All the Time

"I think about it all the time

That I might run out of time

But I finally met my baby

And a baby might be mine

'Cause maybe one day I might

If I don't run out of time

Would it make me miss all my freedom?

I think about it all the time."

- "I Think About it All the Time," by Charli xcx ft. Bon Iver

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Alex

Every night, as Niamh was kicked out of visiting hours for the day, she'd prop up an iPad so I could watch Lettie sleep so we could be together. I had told her it wasn't necessary; her continuous updates and random calls were enough. I didn't want anyone to do anything extra for me when they were all trying to keep it together, too.

Of course, Niamh fought me and told me I was being difficult and that she never did anything too much for her to handle. I caved, and the first night she had set it up, I realized how much I needed it. I needed to see her, even if it wasn't the same as being physically with her, but it was something-enough to make the guilt a little more bearable.

That first night Niamh set it all up, I was at a loss for words. But as soon as Niamh left, I saw Lettie, and I felt the weight that had been sitting on my chest loosen just by seeing her breathing. She didn't look like herself, but I still recognized, without a doubt, the woman lying in bed with half of her body in pins and rods, hooked up to IVs, monitors, and both a feeding and breathing tube, was the love of my life.

I had been away for a little over two weeks, and every night since I had left Lettie, I had watched her on FaceTime. Sometimes, I'd just watch the slow rise and fall of her chest; even if it was mechanized, it still gave me calm; I knew she was alive, and it grounded me, even as the distance between us felt unbearable. The quiet hospital room, the timed shuffle of a nurse that would obstruct my ability to see her, as they needed to turn the camera away as they did their check-ins, all became part of the background, a strange lullaby that gave me peace.

I was lucky to have my bandmates and their support. Nick was calm and tried to be mostly normal, but he checked in; he was gentle and didn't push too much on me. Jamie was steady, making sure I ate, got up, and was on time for interviews, and didn't completely shut down. Matt pushed me the hardest. He had always been close with Lettie-closer than the others-and he didn't hold back. Matt was almost like my Niamh; Matt didn't do soft things. He met me head-on, keeping me from sinking too deep.

One night, after a show, he shoved a bottle of water into my hand. "You look like shit, Al."

I knew he was right. I hadn't been sleeping, and while I knew I could survive missing a FaceTime call with Lettie, I didn't want to; it calmed me. I was afraid to sleep and miss a moment. When I did get sleep, it was restless.

Matt let out a frustrated breath, rubbing a hand over his face. "Lettie wouldn't want you like this." His voice dropped slightly, the edge softening just a bit, but his stance remained firm.

"I don't know what she wants," I admitted, my voice hoarse. "She didn't want to be with me, and she doesn't even know she's-"

Pregnant. In a coma. Stuck in some limbo, Lettie never asked for.