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Nick looked up at her, his face pale. Almost immediately his body relaxed. He couldn’t say anything – not with his heavy breathing, and the mask covering his face – but his expression told her all she needed to know.
He was relieved she was here. He knew he was going to be okay. She’d make things better, the way she always did.
The fact she should have been here twenty minutes earlier felt like a weight on her shoulders. She’d been so selfish, so caught up in her own problems, and he’d waited longer than he should’ve for her. She felt sick at the thought of him being alone and scared.
The blood pressure cuff at the top of his thin arm inflated automatically, deflating once the reading appeared on his monitor.
“We’re going to give him another steroid injection in twenty minutes, and then let him rest. I’d like to keep him in overnight, but if he improves the way I think he will, you can take him home tomorrow.”
Home. There was nowhere else she wanted to be right now. Taking care of this little kid who meant everything to her.
“Can I stay with him tonight?”
Doctor Westbrooke smiled. “Of course.”
“You hear that, honey?” she said softly, hunkering down so she could whisper in Nick’s ear. “I’m staying right here with you tonight, and you’re coming home tomorrow. Everything’s going to be fine.”
She slid her hand into his and he squeezed it tightly as she sat down in the chair beside Nick’s bed. The hem of her silver evening dress rode up, revealing her ankles and feet covered in sand. What a mess she was. Right now she didn’t feel fit to be a human, let alone a mother.
It was going to be a long, long night.
28
A distant noise startled her. Brooke’s eyes flew open, her body stiffening as she woke from her fitful slumber, her evening dress crumpled around her body. It took her a moment to realize where she was. She blinked, her blurred vision slowly focusing on the bed beside her, and the monitor beside the bed, and her palm still wrapped around her son’s smaller hand.
The clock on the wall told her it was going on three in the morning. They’d moved Nick up to a private room in the children’s ward a few minutes after midnight. Brooke had gone with him, holding his hand as the orderly pushed his gurney to the elevator, talking softly with him as he stared up at her with his oxygen mask still on. When the night staff came into their shift at ten, Doctor Westbrook had come up to the ward to say goodbye, and had authorized the mask to be taken off and for the drip to be stopped. Now the only thing he had connected to his body were the pads on his chest hooking him up to the monitor. They didn’t seem to be bothering him much. The combination of the shock and the treatment had sent him into a deep sleep, and she knew from experience he wouldn’t be waking up any time soon.
Her body ached from sitting in the chair for too long. Gently letting go of Nick’s hand, she stood and stretched, lifting her arms up above her head and rolling her shoulders, moving her neck from one side to the other.
There was a huge glass window on the other side of Nick’s room, opening to the hallway and nurses’ station. A movement caught her eye and she turned to look. On the other side of the glass she saw Aiden, still wearing his dinner suit.
She twisted to look at him, but he hadn’t seen her yet. She took the chance to take in his messed up dark hair and the wrinkles in his clothes from where he’d been sitting in one position for too long. His white shirt was crumpled and untucked, and there were creases on his cheek from where he’d been leaning against the wall. He looked as unkempt as she felt.
His gaze snapped to hers, and his eyes widened in recognition. For a moment they stared at each other. She could feel the heat radiating through her, as though somebody had lit a match and thrown it onto the paper of her stomach. He took a step toward the glass between them, and without thinking it through, she did the same.
“Hi.” He mouthed the word. She couldn’t tell if he’d voiced it too – the glass was too thick. “You okay?”
She nodded, swallowing hard. “He’s good. Asleep.”
Aiden frowned. “What?”
She mouthed it harder. “He’s asleep.”
On the other side of the glass, Aiden shook his head and frowned. Taking another glance at Nick – who hadn’t stirred at all – she walked over to the door, slowly pushing the handle and stepping out of the room.
“He’s asleep,” she whispered. This time Aiden nodded.
“How’s he doing? Is there any improvement?” He sounded panicked.
“He’s so much better. They’ve taken him off the oxygen and fluids. The doctor said he should be able to come home tomorrow.”
Aiden closed his eyes and let out a mouthful of air. An orderly walked past with a cart and they stepped aside to let him through. As he disappeared around the corner of the corridor, Aiden lifted a hand to his hair, raking his fingers through it.
“Thank you for being here,” Brooke said, her voice low. “You really didn’t have to stay.”
“The nurses have told me to leave about a hundred times.” Aiden shrugged. “But where would I go? There’s no way I could sleep without knowing you’re both okay.”
“Did everybody else leave?”
