After what feels like an eternity, the ambulance stops, the sirens still blaring, the sounds finally coming back to me as the doors are wrenched open and the space is filled with people. They’re lowering the bed with my life on it, nurses rushing to her and talking at once, all the medical jargon going right over my head.
I jump down and go after her before I’m stopped with a hand on my chest, a male nurse standing in front of me as we enter the emergency room bay.
“Sir, you can’t go with her. You can wait here, and I willhave someone come out and talk to you when we can,” he says, trying to reason with me. “Are you family?”
“She’s my wife…” I say, broken, knowing that if she comes out of this, I’m never letting her go again. “Please help her…”
“She’s in good hands, sir. Let us do our jobs,” he says. “Let me show you the waiting area.”
He pulls me through a couple hallways until we enter a big room with a couple dozen chairs, a few TVs hanging on the walls. There are only three other people here, all seemingly lost in their own worlds. The only sound is the TV’s low volume.
“There’s a bathroom through there to wash up, and I will have someone come update you as soon as we can,” he says, then turns to walk out, his steps eating up the distance between us.
I stare down at my hands, stained red from the blood I didn’t even notice was on them. My silver rings covered in her.
I walk myself to the bathroom and watch as the red washes down the drain, the mixture of soap and blood swirling like my thoughts. The anxiety makes me spiral as I imagine every bad thing that could be happening right now. The urge to throw every door open until I can lay my eyes on her is strong.
I stumble out of the bathroom, my thoughts jumbled and my heart shredded in two as I reach for my phone and call Marcus, the tears streaming down my face as I tell him where I am, that Avery was hurt.
“On my way,” he replies without hesitation and hangs up.
I sit down and place my head in my hands, trying to calm my breathing. In for four and out for four. The risingpanic inside me threatens to drown me, the pain in my chest constricting. My breathing comes out strangled while I fight for every next breath.
I’m not sure how long I sit there before suddenly I’m surrounded by arms—six to be exact. Morgan, Marcus, and Grayson surround me as I break down, the tears streaming down my face and the breaths not coming in fast enough. Panic drowns me as I think of Avery, so far away from me. The look on her face when I turned around and she was there, on the ground. The way I was unable to protect her. The guilt is drowning me until I can no longer see through the tears pouring from my eyes.
When I finally pull back and stare at my family, matching tears shine in all our eyes, no words exchanged as we sit there together.
After several hours, some stilted conversation, and a few more tears, the same nurse walks through the door and I stand up before his eyes meet mine.
“She’s out of surgery,” he announces, instant relief going through my body at those words.
“Can I see her?” I ask.
“She’s still asleep from the anesthesia. The surgery went well, and the bullet was removed without any permanent damage,” he explains, the words soothing me. He looks at me and takes in my disheveled state. He places a hand on my forearm and squeezes, seeming to convey so much with no words.
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
“Only one person at a time for now,” he says, looking at our makeshift family, taking in our tear-stained faces.
I look at our friends and over to Morgan. “Go, go see your girl,” she says with a small smile on her face, eyes full of fresh tears. Her face is free of makeup and her eyespuffy, a mirror of my own. She’s wearing two mismatched shoes, and her shirt is zipped and crooked.
I nod at her and my brothers and take off after the nurse, trepidation coursing through me with every hallway we turn down as the hospital bustles around me. The nonstop beeping of machines follows me around every corner, the med-surge floor gleaming at me. He brings me to a closed door, number three hundred and twenty-nine staring back at me, and opens it slowly, letting the harshness of the machines sink into my system. The beeping of the heart monitor is music to my ears because she’s okay.
She’s breathing.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
kane
Waiting Room – Phoebe Bridgers
It’s been thirty-two hours since we were rushed to the hospital, and I don’t think I have been able to take a full breath since. I stare down at her, her face serene, clear of any makeup she may have had. She looks as if she’s just asleep. They’re not sure why she hasn’t woken up yet, maybe from the blood loss. Nurses and doctors have been in and out over the past couple hours, but I’ve been here, unmoved from her bedside.
Morgan and Marcus stopped by trading in and out with Grayson, trying to get me to leave and eat, but I refuse to leave her side. It’s my fault she’s here. If I hadn’t been so reckless threatening him, he never would have shown up.
The cops came by early this morning to let me know he is going to be charged with aggravated assault and a slew of other charges since he showed up at a high school with a gun. Apparently, he says he never meant to shoot it, that he just wanted to scare us, and the cops believe him, so he isn’t being charged with attempted murder.
Regardless, I am willing to testify if it means that piece of shit is behind bars and Avery is safe.
