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“Birdie.” His eyes match my inner turmoil. “You should have called someone.”
“I called Selene! On the drive over, I called her,” I defend. “Then Nay showed up.”
“What was that?”
“Nay came to the hospital.”
“Where is she?” He looks toward the door eagerly and my stomach drops.
“I sent her away,” I mumble.
His gaze snaps back to me. “What? Why?”
I take a step back and turn away, using the excuse of grabbing a chair to avoid facing Alvie when I tell him.
“She was just . . . She was dropping all of these really intense thoughts and emotions on me, and I just couldn’t deal. You were still unconscious and I was alone and . . .”
“You weren’t alone, birdie.” He sighs. “She was here to help surely.”
“No,” I snap as I whip around, anger surging through me. “She was here for herself and whatever the fuck is going on with her. Plus—” My possessiveness rears its head alongside my anger. “You’re not hers. You’re mine.”
Alvie gives me a skeptical look and I turn back to the chair to drag it over.
I don’t turn around when I add, “She was here to take over. It’s my job to take care of you when shit like this happens. I’m your wife. She’s what? Our play partner.”
Alvie’s brow furrows. “I think she’s more than that. Don’t you agree?”
“No,” I snap. “You’re my husband. She had no right showing up here without my permission, trying to fill a role she had no business being involved in.”
“Birdie.” His voice is a warning. “What did you . . . ?”
There’s a knock on the door and a doctor and nurse walk into the room.
“Good, you’re awake,” the doctor chirps. “Mr. Silva, Mrs. Silva.” They nod to each of us before diving into their update, but I barely process the information they’re giving us. Thankfully, some of the suffocating emotions that were taking over start to subside the more I listen to them drone on.
My hand tightly grips Alvie’s as they talk about his injury and resulting concussion. I know from past experience that it will take at least a week or two of monitoring his symptoms to make sure that there’s nothing else wrong. This isn’t Alvie’s first or even his fifth. Being a rodeo star is hard on the body, and Alvie’s been bucked off his fair share of horses.
Each injury is another time when my heart seizes in my chest and my world stops. Alvie is my rock; he’s the foundation that keeps me grounded. I’m not good in a crisis and he’s always handled so many of the difficulties we’ve come up against. So, times like these are nearly paralyzing for me.
A squeeze on my hand brings me back from my rambling thoughts.
The nurse is reaching out with a stack of papers in his hand, gesturing for me to take them from him. “Mr. Silva’s discharge instructions.”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
The doctor nods to each of us. “We’ll finish up your paperwork, and you should be out of here in a few hours.”
“Thank you, doctor,” Alvie says.
The duo leaves, and I turn to put the paperwork in my bag sitting in the chair.
I pray to whatever deity is listening that Alvie lets us move on from our earlier topic, but clearly no one is listening in my time of need.
“We’re not done talking about this,” Alvie reminds when my back is turned from him.
“I know.” I sigh. “Just . . . I need a minute.”
“Okay,” he says. “Have you checked in with her?’
