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“Please, Siobhan. I just need the basics. Is she still alive? Does she need anything from me? If they fired her—”
“I’m taking care of her expenses, don’t worry about that, Mitch.”
He snorts. “You’re a terrible liar, and whatever you’re hiding is either bad or…” I can hear his shallow breathing. “Call me if she needs anything, okay?”
“I will.”
“He sounds broken,” Iskander says.
“They were great together. I wish I knew exactly what happened between them. A few times, he complained about her behavior during the IVF treatments. But he always said, ‘I’ll do anything to make her happy.’ What if the tumor has been there since then?”
Iskander hands me his horchata, which I never order but I always drink from his. “Stop playing Nancy Drew and stressing yourself out.”
“When she wakes up and learns he’s in town…” I close my eyes briefly. “She might not forgive me.”
He stares at me for several beats.
“What is it?”
“Nothing,” he claims.
My stomach lurches because I’m almost certain I know what he’s thinking. “You don’t think she’ll wake up, do you?”
“I never said that.”
“But there’s the possibility. The neurologist mentioned it. She might never speak again, or walk, or… what if we lose her?”
I touch the base of my neck, trying to even my breathing. Reminding myself that this is her best chance for survival.
“We’ll get through this, babe. I promise.”
“How?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t know, but I’ll try my best to be there while she recovers. Or at least let me hold you while you grieve.”
And for some reason, the fact that he’s not sugar-coating things, but he’s promising to be my rock, makes me feel less lonely.
* * *
Seven hours. The surgery takes seven hours. I’m emotionally exhausted, but when the doctor says, “She’s recovering. I believe the surgery was a success. We were able to scrape most of it.” I’m finally able to breathe normally.
I don’t ask what most of it entails. I want to know… “What’s next? This hospital isn’t equipped to keep patients.”
“We have a setup just for her. Unfortunately, it’s so small no one can stay overnight. The nurses will be watching her,” Dr. Brennan assures me.
“When can we see her?”
Dr. Decker says, “She’ll remain sedated until tomorrow. We’ll run a series of tests before we bring her out of the induced coma.”
Iskander squeezes my hand. He’s been with me since he came to feed me a couple of hours ago. Myka is at the house with Rumi, who already had her nighttime routine and is in bed. “We’ll go home, and they can keep us updated.”
But I’m not ready just yet. “Will they continue chemo right after she wakes up?”
“No. We need to wait until she heals before we start the treatments again,” Dr. Decker says. “This is just the beginning, but I’m confident she’ll be fine soon. We’ll text you when she’s awake.”
I know it’s his job to say the right words, but I feel like he sounds condescending. Maybe I’m reading too much into it, though.
When we’re out, Iskander asks, “What do you want to do?”
