DIANA NOLAN

...

CRISTOPHER NOLAN

A father should never see his child die. Never in his life. It should be the other way around, unfortunately. However, here I sit, restless, not knowing whether my daughter is alive or not. Not knowing if she will make it makes my heart ache. I shut my eyes while I take deep breaths. Breathe in through the nose and out through the mouth. I hear a ton of noises from her room and then ... an awful long silence.
     I open my eyes, only to see Cillian standing still as well. I rise to my feet, walking up to Cillian. We both watch the curtains move and there I fear the worst scenario. The nervous, aching knot in my stomach tightens. I need to bury my child. My heart sinks as I feel fresh tears well up in my eyes. The nurse walks up to us, her face has a blank expression.
     "Mr. Nolan and Mr., my deepest apologies for putting you through this situation. I am here to tell you we have successfully restored her heartbeat — Thank the Lords — and we are sure it is because of the blood loss but we have taken care of it now," she speaks. My heart rate slows to a normal, average pace. I gasp as the anxious tears turn into happy tears as they slide down my cheeks. My daughter is alive.
"But you said you secured her safety," Cillian argues. "Then how did this happen?" He has a point. He has a great point. I watch the nurse and cross my arms over my chest. "I cannot tell, sir. I am only telling you what the O.R. told me, I am sorry I can't provide you with more information," she apologizes. My shoulders loosened and there I felt some kind of guilt for her. Cillian opens his mouth to speak, but I speak before him.
"It is indeed not your fault," I speak. "However, we are owed an explanation." She nods, telling us that we do. "You are allowed into the room, I cannot tell you when she will wake up but I am sure she needs your support," she informs before taking her leave. I take a look at Cillian before we enter the room. My princess. New tears slide down my cheeks as I see her. She hasn't changed or anything, but the thought of her almost dying has me terrified.
Then I remembered, I needed to inform Emma. I need. To. Inform. My wife. "Cillian, I need to have a call with my wife on Diana's condition," I say. I pat him on the shoulder, telling him he should hold her hand. Poor boy.

I dial my wife's number and she picks up right away. "Hello," she cheerfully greets me, however, I cannot bring myself to return to that cheerful mood. "What is wrong?" she questions right away. She knows me too well. "Diana's surgery went well," I say, pausing for a moment. "Well, that is good news right?" she questions and adds: "Right?" With a tone, demanding clarification. "Not exactly," I sigh. "The nurse told me she lost more blood than average and told us she was fine, that they have handled it."
     "What. Happened?" Her voice is sharp, needing to know. "She faced death," I speak, hearing my own voice break. "I saw her dying — I heard my wife gasp loudly — and we were shoved out of the room and they started the thing with the defibrillators and ... It felt like forever but she is alive." Another gasp leaves her lips, a gasp of relief.
     "Are you okay?" she questions. Am I okay? No, not yet. "Not yet," I admit. "But I will be. Cillian is still with me." Another sigh with empathy. "How is he doing? It must have been terrifying for him as well." "He is shaken for sure and I think he won't sleep until Diana opens her eyes," I speak, glancing into the room. "I told him that he should hold her hand, which he is doing." "Alright."
"And it is only noon," I groan. "This is too much for a morning." She chuckles, telling me I should return to Diana and Cillian. "After some food," I grumble. "Bye, darling. I love you." "I love you more," I reply before ending the call. Before returning to the room, I headed to the cafeteria where I got us sandwiches and coffee.
     I let out a deep sigh before I return my way to the room. I feel exhausted after this rollercoaster of emotions. It had drained all my energy, but the most important thing was that my daughter was alive and well. She only needs to wake up. You only need to wake up, princess.

"I got us some sandwiches," I inform, handing him a sandwich. He accepts the bread with his free hand, the other still entangled with Diana's. I take a look at Cillian, his face is pale and he seems exhausted as well.
     "If you wish to catch some sleep, you could always drive to our home to get some sleep, you know?" I suggest. Cillian doesn't take his eyes off Diana as he replies: "I promised her I would be with her the moment she awakes. I want to honor that promise." The loyalty ... Already this early in the stages of a relationship. It is either adorable or terrifying.
     "That's alright, son," I answer, taking a bite of my sandwich. "You know, she is the fittest person I know," I speak, looking at my daughter. "And my brain cannot comprehend the part of a heart attack. The fittest girl, she always eats healthy and she is active as the devil." "This was beyond her doings," Cillian reasons. "She has lost too much blood."
"That is true," I admit. "How are you doing?" Cillian then questions. "It is not nothing to see your daughter like that." I take a deep breath, pushing down my emotions. "I was shaken off the world for sure," I reply. "But seeing her in this state ... It hurts, I will find peace once her eyes are open." Cillian nods understandingly, shifting his gaze from me to Diana. I notice he is caressing her hand with his thumb. He truly cares for her.
     "How are you?" I question. He remains silent as he probably stares at their hands. "I feel weird," he replies. "Diana has taken much room in my mind in such a short time and experiencing this incident makes my heart ache." His words are elegant and beautiful. Cillian seems to have the ability to describe words in a way no one else can. "But seeing her like this doesn't give me the peace I wish for."

⸻

It has been days and my dearest daughter still hasn't awoken. After much pleading, I successfully sent Cillian to our home to get some sleep. He loudly protested, saying he couldn't leave. "I will call you as soon as she wakes up," I pleaded, needing Cillian to sleep. The boy will self-destruct at this rate. "I command it as your future father-in-law." Then he finally took his leave with Emma, but not without a last glance over the shoulder.
     The news must have reached Diana's gymnastics team because Cate, her coach, and several gymnasts stopped by to visit. They brought in lots of cards and balloons, all ready for her to wake. When the gymnasts spent time around Diana's bed, Cate made conversation with me. I told her what happened and she reacted with empathy.
I am tired. "Princess?" I question, looking at her resting face. "I don't know if you can hear me, but I miss you immensely. Not only me but your mama, Flora, your teammates, Cillian ... We all miss you dearly. Keep fighting because you are so strong." I feel fresh tears well up in my eyes and I allow them to roll down my cheeks. "And you are my daughter. My precious little girl."
     "I miss you, princess," I sob, reaching for her hand. Her hand feels cold in mine. "Please, come back." I rest my head on her bed, slowly calming down.

"Change of guard." A voice stirs me awake as I raise my head from the bed. I hadn't noticed falling asleep until I woke up. My eyes meet Cillian, who seems rested.
     "Come with me, dearest." Emma's voice comes from behind Cillian before stepping into the light. I rise to my feet, my head feeling light and dizzy. I stagger towards my wife but I manage to trip over my own feet. Cillian catches me before I fall to the floor.
     "Definitely a change of guard," he mutters. Emma takes me in her arms before saying her last words to Cillian before leaving. My butt hits the seat and I fall asleep right away. Only for Emma to wake me fifteen minutes later.
     "Go to bed," she informs gently. She guides me up the stairs and places me on the bed. "And we will talk later." I don't give her any sign of protest as my eyes feel heavy already. My head hits the pillow and I drift into a deep sleep.

I was being pushed out of the room as the curtains moved around my daughter's bed. She was dying and I did not know whether she'd make it. I closed my eyes shut, praying to the Lord that she would make it.
     However, then I heard a dead silence. I carefully opened my eyes before the nurse walked up to me. "I am sorry, Mr Nolan," she said. "I am here to inform you that your daughter has passed away. We were not able to save her."
     My world started to collapse. The floor slipped away from underneath my feet and I started falling into the abyss.

I yell myself awake and shoot upright. Emma bursts through the door with a wild look in her eyes. Her eyes find mine and the wild expression melts into empathy. I am sweaty and tears are rolling down my cheeks. Emma sits next to me and snakes her arms around me. I cling to her body as the tears flow.
     "Shhh," she soothes. "It is over, it is all a dream." "I saw our ... I saw ... our daughter ... I saw her die." I struggle to bring out my words as my breathing quickens. I'm going near hyperventilation. "It was all a dream," Emma whispers, rocking me back and forth.
     Time passes and I find my steady breathing. I take deep breaths before facing my wife. She cups my cheeks in her hands and all I can see in her eyes, is love. "It was horrifying," I tell her and she nods. "Seeing her monitor flatline is ... I cannot describe it and I don't want to describe it." Her thumbs caress my cheeks.
     "The most important piece of information we have is that our daughter is alive. As the strong spirit she possesses, she will wake up soon. I feel it, my mother instinct tells me," she chuckles, succeeding in making me chuckle as well. "There is that smile again." I lay my hands on hers and lean forward until our foreheads touch.
"Thank you." "Nonsense," she answers. "I'm your wife."

We walk down the stairs where I am met by my youngest daughter. She runs up to me and I am happy to see her. I open my arms and swing her in circles. "There is my swimming champ," I laugh, hugging her. Flora chuckles.
"I have made lasagna," Emma informs. I then sniff the air in the kitchen and it smells just like lasagna. "It smells amazing," I compliment. I reach the cabinet for two glasses before pulling the cork off the wine bottle. I fill the glasses with wine before walking to the couch.
"It feels weird to be here while Diana is in a coma," I mention. Emma sends me a faint smile. "Cillian is with her," she soothes. "And he will call you to let you know." She is more than right. Diana is in good hands. Cillian is with her. I try to relax by taking a deep breath.
Emma takes care of dinner before calling us. I gesture to Flora before sitting down at the table. I divide the lasagne and then raise my glass. "To Diana," I speak. Emma and Flora raise their glasses as well. Emma raises her wineglass and Flora raises her water glass. "To Diana," they say in unison. I take a bite of the lasagne and I feel a wave of satisfaction through my body. It's so good.
"It is delicious," I compliment my wife. She smiles as she takes another bite. We eat in silence, enjoying this moment together. My phone breaks the silence by ringing. I pull my phone from my jacket and there I see it. Cillian Murphy. My heartbeat accelerates as my breath hitches. I have never answered a phone that fast. "Cillian!" I exclaim, causing Emma to look at me as well. A brief moment of silence and then I hear the most relieving words a parent could hear:
"Diana is awake."