AllFreeNovel
Share Us
And she’d been waiting for him to call or text, or something – while his body was weakening, leaking life from wounds that she could only imagine. She gasped, pushing the thoughts from her mind.
She was here now, and she wasn’t going anywhere again.
“Xavier Salbatore,” she said breathlessly, when she approached the counter. “Which room is he in?”
The nurse, a short and squat woman with bright blonde hair, ran an acrylic fingertip across a piece of paper then looked up, her sea-green eyes pinning Ellie with sympathy. “It’s outside visiting hours, miss.”
“Oh, I know. I just heard. How is he?”
The nurse grimaced. “Are you family?”
“A very close friend,” Ellie said, with a meaningful look, her heart twisting with pain at how impossible it was to define what they were. They’d known each other such a short space of time and yet Ellie couldn’t imagine her life without Xavier in it.
“You can’t see him til morning, I’m afraid.”
“Oh, no,” Ellie shook her head, instantly rejecting the idea of having to wait even longer. “I have to see him. Please, please. Just quickly.”
She needed to tell him he was going to be okay. She had to at least tell him she was there for him. She’d heard, somewhere along the way, that people in comas were cognizant of their surroundings. So? Whatever state he was in, she would let him know she was by his side.
“I’m sorry, miss. On any other ward, I’d sneak you in, but this is ICU and Mr Salbatore isn’t in a good way.”
“Oh, God.” Ellie gripped the counter for strength, panic fluttering inside her.
“I’m sorry.”
But what could Ellie say? The woman was just doing her job; Ellie had to respect that. “Is there somewhere I can sit?”
“Until morning?” The nurse asked, her expression one of surprise.
“Until Christmas, if necessary,” Ellie said, her face pale, her eyes huge.
The nurse stood, a look of consternation on her face. “I’m a soft touch,” she grumbled, more to herself than Ellie. “If anyone asks, you found him yerself. Got it?”
Ellie held her breath, walking behind the nurse and her rounded bottom as she led Ellie down the brightly lit corridor. She stopped outside a door – there was a glass panel beside it but Ellie didn’t look in. For a few moments longer, she needed to brace herself. The nurse pushed the door inwards.
“Here. There’s a comfortable chair in the corner. I’ll bring you a tea, shall I?”
Ellie could have wept with gratitude, but a moment later, her eyes landed on Xavier, and it was all she could do to stop buckling to her knees.
The man who had overtaken her life with his virility and strength was lying on the bed, wrapped in bandages, with cables and cords protruding from his limbs, his head bandaged, his eyes swept shut. But even then, she could see how bruised he was. How broken. Strength had bent to weakness, virility to decline.
“What’s happened?” She crossed the distance to his bedside and reached for him, needing to touch some part of him, so that he would know she was there. Needing to feel his beautiful heart beating, his heart pumping blood through his warm, capable body. She sobbed softly.
There was nowhere to touch that wasn’t impeded by cords, cables and bandages. She reached backwards for the chair, pulling it closer to the bed.
And she sank into it with a sense of utter desolation.
The nurse brought a tea at some point, and Ellie drank it, but she didn’t move. She didn’t sleep. She watched Xavier, telling herself it was a good thing that his chest was rising and falling. Telling herself he would be fine – she would make sure of it. Whatever happened, she would move heaven and earth to help him back to strength and wellness.
If it was possible.
And if it weren’t, she’d be with him regardless. If he couldn’t see, she’d be his eyes. If he couldn’t walk, she’d be his legs. Whatever he needed, she would offer.
Unless all hope was lost.
She sobbed again, the possibility that he would die one she refused to acknowledge.
Doctors came throughout the night, and nurses too, checking on him. She didn’t ask questions, and explanations weren’t offered. But the grim expressions on their faces spoke volumes.
