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“Fury, buddy, I know you’re scared. I’ve been where you are now. There’s nothing I can do or say to make you feel better, but look at my Hellcat. She’s still giving me hell today. It’s going to be okay. We don’t fall in love with weak women. They fight tooth and nail to keep the life they love,” he says.
His words hurt me, although he probably doesn’t realize it. Will Ellie fight? She was getting ready to leave. I walked away from her, and I stayed away the entire night. Will she even know that I’m here? She was so confused, and looked so bad right before she passed out, that I can’t know for sure she even knew I was there. I don’t reply to Crusher, I just hold my head down, feeling useless.
Eventually, I take out my phone and look up Ellie’s condition. Reading it now, it all makes sense. The constant migraines that seemed to be based behind her eye is a leading symptom. The harder fact to read is that fifty percent of people who have an aneurysm don’t survive. Fifteen percent don’t even survive the ambulance ride here. Then, there are the after effects. A lot of patients can suffer permanent neurological damage. My hands are shaking as I read all of this shit. Fear so deep that I can’t breathe settles inside of me. My legs are constantly moving, as my nerves get the better of me. Twenty-five percent of all patients who survive the initial rupture can die within six months from complications. All these facts are assaulting me like physical blows, but, it’s the triggers that can cause an aneurysm to burst that destroy me.
Fucking destroy me.
Strong emotions such as being upset or angry can raise blood pressure and cause aneurysms to rupture.
Being upset. Strong emotions….
I throw my phone across the waiting room. It slams against the wall and then drops to the cement floor. It lies there in pieces as I stare at it, wishing I could go back and take Ellie to the hospital when I first began to worry about the amount of migraines she had.It feels like years before the doctor finally comes out. When he does, my heart flips inside of my chest.
“Liam Maverick?”
“That’s me,” I respond, trying to gage what he’s going to tell me by the look on his face, but I can’t tell.
“Let’s step into the consultation room,” he says, but I shake my head no.
“This is our family. It’s okay to talk in front of them.”
“We’ve repaired the vessel in her brain. She’s going to remain in ICU. I want to monitor her closely.”
“Will she… Was there… Will she…”
Fuck, I can’t even get the words out.
“Will she make a full recovery?” Devil asks, coming up beside me.
“It’s too soon to say. The next couple of weeks are crucial. If all goes well, she’ll need to have the metal plates removed in two weeks. In the meantime, we will need to monitor her to see if there are any neurological complications. I’m afraid I don’t have a timeline for you, Mr. Maverick. We have to go at your wife’s pace. I can tell you that she’s strong and came through the surgery extremely well. She’s definitely a fighter.”
“Yeah,” I murmur. “That’s my Ellie.”
“They’ll come and get you when she’s out of recovery and in critical care. You won’t be able to spend much time with her. It’s crucial right now she remain calm and have quiet. But I’ll give you a few minutes with her.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
He walks away and I’m left there with my brothers, Dani and Torrent, but I feel completely alone.
Please God, let her be okay…EllieFour Weeks Later* * *“You don’t have to do this, Liam. I’ll be fine in a hotel or…”
“Ice, stop it. This is your home,” Liam says. Frustration and helplessness fill me.
“I don’t want you feeling like you have to let me stay here. You aren’t responsible for me, Liam. I don’t want to be an obligation.”
“Ellie, I love you. I know we have shit to work through, but we will work through it.”
“Liam, I know I hurt you. I don’t want you to keep me here because you’re trapped. I’ll be fine. You heard Dr. Maples, I’m doing extraordinary, all things considering.”
I look at Liam, and I’m pretty sure he looks as ragged as I do—although he doesn’t have one side of his head shaved. I haven’t cut my hair or done anything with it, either. I think I’m afraid to, but I’m going to tackle it soon. What I hate the most is feeling like I’m this weight around Liam’s neck. He’s practically lived at the hospital, moving into my room as soon as I was put on the regular floor. There were some small complications, and that required a second surgery and me staying in the hospital longer, but I’m assured everything is fine now and truth be known, I am feeling better, I’m just really tired. It’s just hard not to feel like you’re walking around with a ticking timebomb in your head. I know I came close to dying and that’s unnerved me more than anything.
