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I take the pan into the adjoining bathroom and rinse it out, then bring it back to him.
"Asia, please—"
"Just rest," I say softly, going back to the bathroom to retrieve a washcloth that I soak in cold water. I return to the edge of the bed and gently lay the cold cloth across his eyes.
"Does that feel a little better?" I ask.
He nods slowly. "Yes… Thank you."
"I'll be right back."
I wander out into the hall to the nurses' station and wait for one of them to look up at me.
"Yes?"
"Hi. I'm Talon Valentine's wife. I was wondering if he could have a ginger ale, maybe? I was hoping it would help him feel better and get the nasty taste out of his mouth."
"He can, but he yelled at me earlier when I tried to offer him something. He's not a good patient."
"I'm sorry, he's not used to being sick."
She smiles. "Most men are difficult. I'll get a can and a cup of ice for you."
"Can you get him a few more clean washcloths and pillows too?" Talon has such a thing for soft sheets and the right amount of pillows. I wouldn't be surprised if the linens here are making him angrier than anything else.
"Of course. I'll be right back."
I wait at the desk as she walks away, hoping that he can get out of here soon. I think being in his own surroundings will help calm him down.
"He wouldn't let any of us near him this morning," she says when she returns. "So, good luck."
"Is he being given anything for the vertigo and nausea?"
"Not yet. But the doctor is due back this afternoon and will most likely start meds then."
"Okay, thank you for your help."
"You're welcome. I'm here 'til eight. Come find me if you need anything. My name's Lauren."
I nod and go back to Talon's room, where he's still lying with the cloth over his eyes. I put the supplies on the guest chair and perch on the edge of his bed again.
"I got you a ginger ale." I pop the top and pour it over the ice, adding a straw to the cup. He doesn't move, and I'm not sure if he's ignoring me or if he can't hear me, so I slowly take the cloth off his face and hold the cup up. "You should sip a little of this. It will help."
"Stop babying me. You should go home. My mom will be here soon."
"Good, then we can both baby you."
"Please, just go."
I refuse to let him push me away, even though it hurts so much to hear him speak to me this way. I know he's acting this way out of fear, and I'm not going to let it win. I absolutely refuse.
"I'm not leaving, Talon. Ever. Take a few sips of this, okay?"
"Fine," he mutters, taking the cup.
"And don't gulp it. Just little sips or you're gonna barf again."
He glares at me from over the rim of the cup as he takes a few sips through the straw, then puts it on the rolling table next to the bed before once again leaning back and closing his eyes.
"Did Asher tell you?" he asks. "About all this?"
"Yes, he did."
He snorts. "I'm fuckin' done."
I reach over and gently brush his hair out of his face. "You're not done. Don't say that."
"It's true. I'm gonna go fucking deaf. I already can barely hear in that ear. I knew something was fucked up. Things have been muffled for a few weeks, and I've had, like, a ringing. I thought it was just an earache."
"You'll be fine. And now's not the time to be talking about this. We have to get you feeling better and get you back home."
"I fell off the fuckin' stage, Aze."
"I know, hon. It's okay. You're sick, people understand."
"I'm off the tour. All that fucking work I did, and now I'm off."
"Your health is more important. The fans will understand," I repeat, wondering what kind of shitstorm could be happening on the band's social media page. I should probably post something on my page so they know he's all right.
"They have to leave tomorrow for the next show, and I'll be stuck in this fucking bed with the goddamn room spinning, throwing up my guts."
"Tal, stop."
"And guess who's gonna take my place for the rest of the tour?" He lets out a sick laugh. "That fuckin' douchebag Finn."
"Finn?"
"Yup. Since he's Lukas's best fucking friend, he was able to get him to agree to jump on a fucking plane to finish off the tour."
"Well, isn't that good for the band, though? Wouldn't it be bad if they had to cancel the rest of the shows?"
"Fuck yeah. But I hate that asshole."
"I know that, but if he's helping your band, isn't that all that matters?"
"He's not helping, Aze. He's fuckin' shoving this in my face."
I take a deep breath, realizing that his attitude is probably not going to get better anytime soon.
"I'm sure he's not. Try to rest. That's what's important right now."
"Whatthefuckever. At this rate, I'll be an invalid in a week."
"That's not true."
"Where's the cat?" he asks suddenly.
"At home."
"Alone?"
"No," I reply. "Kat is staying at our house until we get home."
"You should go back home now. I don't need you here."
"I don't care. I'm not leaving you." I rub my thumb slowly back and forth across his wrist, applying slight pressure there, hoping it will help to reduce the nausea a little for him. "I'm staying here whether you like it or not."
"That feels good," he says wistfully after a few minutes. "I've been missing you."
My heart swells, finally seeing a glimpse of my husband returning. "I've been missing you, too."
"Danny's probably looking pretty good right about now, huh?"
I shake my head viciously. "No. Not at all."
His eyes start to twitch again. "I think I'm gonna be sick."
The rest of the day follows the same pattern—he talks a little, then gets dizzy, vomits, gets mad, then starts all over again. I feel awful for him and wish there was something I could do to make him feel better. I've never felt so helpless in my entire life.
The doctor finally arrives and basically re-explains everything Asher told me earlier in more medical detail. I watch Talon as he listens, noticing the way his jaw is clenching.
"We're going to start you on a few medications to give you some relief. If all goes well, we can discharge you the day after tomorrow. I'm referring you to a doctor in your area that you'll need to see immediately to start a treatment plan."
"Great," Talon says sarcastically, turning away from us.
I follow the doctor out into the hallway as he leaves the room.
"Is there any chance his hearing will return in that ear?" I ask, keeping my voice low.
The doctor frowns. "I'm afraid not. It will probably get progressively worse. That's usually the case with MD. He may want to consider a hearing aid. Some patients have results with those."
My heart sinks. Talon will never wear a hearing aid; he's way too proud. "He's a musician. He has to be able to hear."
"I understand, Mrs. Valentine. Unfortunately, there's not much that can be done in this scenario. I'm very sorry."
I nod slowly, letting the truth sink in. My husband's life is going to change drastically. In the short five months I've known him, we've had so many ups and downs, but this blow is unimaginable. Asher is right—we are going to need to be strong to get through this together, and while I know in my heart I am committed to him no matter what, I don't know if I've had enough time to prove to Talon that I'm his wife in every sense. In sickness and in health, through good and bad. This isn't about commitment to an experiment with the hope that it works; this is about commitment for a lifetime.
Later, Asher and Storm come to visit and tell us their parents will be arriving tomorrow. I'm not sure if having his parents here will make him better or worse, to be honest. Right now, it seems like all of us are doing nothing but aggravating him.
"It looks like th
