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“She’s okay.” She pulled me in tighter, wrapping me up in a tight cocoon of comfort and warmth. “Shannon’s okay, Joe. She’s out of surgery and everything went great. The boys are fine, too. It’s all good, baby.”
Slumping forward, I let myself lean against my girlfriend, knowing that I needed to not put my weight on her, but unable to stop myself.
“The baby…”
“The baby’s fine.” Her lips were on my forehead. “We’re both fine.”
She was the only thing that felt real in this moment. She was here and she was real. I could smell her, touch her, feel her.
Just her.
“What time is it?”
“It’s about half past six.”
“What day is it?”
“It’s Sunday morning, Joe.”
“My head,” I groaned, burying my face in her neck when pain spliced through me. “My eyes.”
“Shh, it’s okay. Don’t try to stand up.” I felt her lips on my temple and then her hand was on the back of my head, fingers gently stroking my scalp. “Just stay on the trolley. I’ve got you, Joe.”
The trolley? I couldn’t remember getting onto a trolley to begin with.
“Where am I?”
“You’re in your own private cubicle in the A&E.” Another kiss found my temple. “You’ve been in and out for a while now.”
“I have?”
“Uh-huh. You’ve had a lot of tests done. A CT scan, some X-rays, and an MRI.” Her breath hitched and I could hear the cry she was trying to bury. “But you’re going to be fine, okay? I won’t let anything else happen to you.”
“Don’t cry, Molloy.” Nuzzling her neck, I tried to raise my hands to her face to comfort her, but they felt so fucking heavy that I only managed to hook them loosely around her waist. “You know it kills me when you cry.”
“I’m not crying.” Sniffling, she pressed another kiss to my head before cradling my face to her chest. “It’s all good, Joe.”
“Shannon?”
“She’s fine.” Molloy was quick to soothe. “I already told you, remember?”
Nah.
I didn’t remember shit.
“I love you,” I slurred. “That’s all I remember.”
“I love you, too,” she replied, voice thick with emotion. “More than you’ll ever know.”
“Fuck, my eyes,” I groaned, wincing when the brightness around me became too much. “Where’s Seany?”
“He’s at home with Nanny Murphy.” Another kiss. “So are Ollie and Tadhg. They are all fine.”
“Tadhg was, ah…” Shaking my head, I gripped at her waist, needing to hold on to her in this moment because my body felt like it was falling apart. “He had a knife.”
“He’s not hurt, Joe,” she whispered. “Shh, baby. Don’t say anything else, okay? Just wait until you feel better. We’ll talk about it then, okay?”
Nodding weakly, I groaned when the pressure in my head grew to epic proportions. “Am I wearing pants?”
