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“Wh… Where… Where’s Esmeralda?” Brodie grew quiet.
“Brodie, I’m here.” His wife inched closer to the bed. “I’m right here.”
“Water,” he whispered. “Get in the water.” His eyes drifted closed.
“Brodie.” Esme lunged for him. Levering her body over his, she clutched his shoulders, trying to shake him.
“Esme.” Cameron took hold of her friend’s biceps. “You’re going to hurt yourself. Stop.’
“But he was finally awake. I can’t let him go back to sleep. Oh God, what if he doesn’t wake up this time?”
Cameron’s heart broke for the other woman. Her terror was palpable in the small room.
Ian came to stand next to them. “This is completely normal,” he assured Esme. “He’s had a traumatic injury. He’s been under sedation for several days. It’s expected that he’ll be dazed, foggy for a little longer.” Pausing, he studied her as she processed his words. “Trust me and Cameron to handle Brodie, while you take care of you and the baby.”
“But—”
“No. He woke up. That’s all we hoped for at first. Give the rest time.” Ian’s dark eyes held a wealth of compassion.
“Does this mean he’ll be okay?” Tears filled Esme’s eyes and deepened her voice.
“It means he’s alive,” Cameron answered. “Ian’s right. That’s all we dared hope at first. Give the meds time to leave his system.”
Esme glanced back at her husband with such longing that Cameron’s breath caught in her lungs.
Ian squeezed the other woman’s shoulder. “Meanwhile, I think it would be best if you and the baby waited in another room.”
As if hearing Ian mention him, the baby whimpered from his bassinet. In his sleep, Brodie shifted his head in their direction.
“Baby?” he whispered, mostly to himself. His body tensed. “Vea? Vea, where are you, baby? Papi’s here. Tell me where you are.”
“I think he’s remembering the explosion,” she whispered to Ian, who watched Brodie through narrowed eyes.
“Esme.” Cameron lifted the baby from his bed as she addressed the mother. “Let’s get you and the baby settled somewhere while—”
“No. I need to stay. He’s asking for me.”
“And you’re here, but he doesn’t see you,” she pointed out.
“Oh my God. Is he blind?” Esme started toward the bed again.
Cameron gripped the woman’s forearm. “I don’t think so. But we do need to check him. It would be better if you and the baby were in another room.”
“But I—”
“Esme.” Ian leaned down so they were eye-to-eye. “Listen to Cameron. Right now, Brodie isn’t lucid. He’s likely dreaming. He may say or do things he wouldn’t want you to see or hear.”
Esme shook her head, denying Ian’s words. “But he doesn’t have to hide from me. There’s nothing he could . . .”
Ian held tightly to both of the woman’s shoulders. “Sometimes when people are hurting, when they’re not thinking, they say and do things they don’t mean. Those things can’t be unheard, Esme, no matter how much we want to. Trust me.”
Guilt twisted in Cameron’s gut. Oh, the things she’d said in the hospital room in Africa. She’d cursed Ian and Wes for not saving her baby, for letting her live. She cried out her desire to be dead, had lamented that her life wasn’t worth living. How impotent Ian must’ve felt, sitting by her bedside holding in his own anguish. Watching him now, she realized how much pain she’d inadvertently caused him. He was right. You couldn’t unhear or unsee. But hopefully he could forgive.
“Come on.” She nudged Esme with her shoulder. “So we can focus on Brodie.”
The woman didn’t take her gaze from her husband.
“Remember what I said about this being a long road?” Ian asked.
Esme nodded.
“This is the first step. The sooner you start…”
Another nod. Esme trudged to the door. Reluctant but determined.
Offering Ian a small smile, Cameron said, “I’ll be back.”
He lifted his chin, not really looking at her. His focus had returned to Brodie. She directed Esme to the room Ara had occupied.
Once they were inside, Esme went to a chair. “What is wrong with him?”
This time Cameron’s heart ached for both the other woman and for Ian. Is this how he felt? Thankful to have the person he loved back, only to find she wasn’t the same? Cameron handed the baby off to his mother, then crouched in front of her chair.
“Brodie’s going to have a lot of adjusting to do, but he’ll do it. With you by his side, with the girls and now his boy.” She smiled at the tiny bundle. “You’ll support him. I’ll support you both. Don’t forget that Es.” She squeezed her friend’s knee. “You come to me when things get too heavy. Keso and I will carry the load. Everyone here will. We’ll get Brodie through this.”
Esme nodded as tears trickled down her cheeks. “He woke up. I’ll hold on to that.”
“Yes. Do that.” With a final squeeze, Cameron rose to her feet. “Let me get back to them.”
When she reentered Brodie’s room, Ian stood by his bedside, taking his pulse. At the sound of her bare feet on the concrete floor, he looked up.
“He’s back asleep. His vitals are normal.” Pulling the stethoscope from his ears, he looped the instrument around his neck.
Slowly, she crept toward the bed, almost afraid she’d get there and find Ian’s words false. Brodie lie with his eyes closed, his chest raising and lowering in a perfect, steady rhythm.
“This is what you hoped for,” Ian reminded her, sensing her worry. “You know how this works.”
Yes, she did. But this time, she just wished her friend would wake up whole and normal. She didn’t want his family to have to wait for his recovery.
“He’ll be okay?”
