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“Y-Yes. The door’s open.”
What’s taking so long? I called what feels like half an hour ago. I know, in reality, it’s been a matter of minutes, but they need to get here. My thoughts are interrupted by shouting, asking where we are.
“In here!” I call back. I hang up the phone and shove it back into my pocket. I hear feet rustling, and then three paramedics rush into the room. They surround us and start working on her. One of them pulls her eyelid up, and her eye rolls into the back of her head.
“Be easy with her!” I shout, fear pushing my panic forward.
“Sir,” the female paramedic addresses me, “we’re doing our jobs. We’re going to help her, but you have to let us. I’m going to need you to step back.”
“No. No. I can't leave her. I never should have left her.”
“Legend?”
I look up to find Roman standing in the doorway. His eyes are wide and filled with worry as he takes in the scene around us.
“Come on, man. Let them do their job. We’ll stand right here.” Roman grabs my arm and tries to get me to stand.
“I can’t.” I jerk my arm to break out of his hold. “Don’t take that off her. She’s naked,” I tell the paramedics, completely losing control.
“Legend.” Roman is closer now. He wraps his arms around me from behind and drags me away from her.
“No. Rome, no. She needs me. I can’t leave her. She needs me. Mo!” I call out.
“Listen.” His voice is stern. “She needs them. They need to have room to work on her. This is their job, man. Let them do it.” He hugs me from behind, his arms locked around mine, holding me in place. “Take a deep breath.”
“I can’t breathe without her.” More tears fall as I watch the love of my life unconscious on our bathroom floor.
“I know.” His voice cracks. “Tell me what I’m seeing, Legend. What’s going on?”
“I found her. She’s been sick. I should have stayed home. She told me not to, but I wanted to be here. Rome, they have to help her. You have to help her!” I call out to the three paramedics, who continue to work on her.
“What did she take?” One of the male EMTs turns to ask me.
“Nothing.”
“We need to know if she took something. It could mean life and death for her.”
“Nothing.” Anger swells in my chest. “She’s not a fucking drug addict. She’s been sick. All that she’s taking is the antibiotic they gave her at urgent care,” I spit back.
“How long ago was that?” the other guy asks.
“Six days ago. She’s not getting any better. I tried to get her to go back, and she said she’d finish her ten days of meds, and if she wasn’t better, she would go back then. She told me to go to work. I should have stayed home. I should have fucking been here.” I slump back into Roman’s arms.
“I got you, brother,” he says, his voice raspy with emotion. “I got you. She’s going to be okay.”
“She has to be. Please, help her.” This time, my cry for help is weak at best. I feel the defeat, and the heaviness of the moment seeps into my bones. I can’t lose her. Please, God, let her be okay.
“We can’t wait until we get to the hospital. We need to intubate now,” one of them says.
“Pushing IV fluids,” the female paramedic calls out.
“BP is dropping,” the other informs them.
“Pushing RSI,” one calls out.
“Do it now,” the female demands.
I open my mouth to demand they help her—even though that’s exactly what they’re trying to do—but no words come out. All I can do is watch in horror as they stick a tube down her throat. I try to break out of Roman’s hold again, but his grip is too tight.
