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“Yeah, right here,” he says as he reaches across to the little table beside the bed and hands me my phone. He gets up and leans over, pressing another gentle kiss to my lips. “I’ll give you some privacy.”

“Thanks,” I smile, watching as he walks away, probably to check on Georgie, but my hand feels oddly empty without him. He pulls the curtain closed behind him, and suddenly the idea of having to call my parents and tell them what happened is the most daunting thing in the world.

Pulling up my mother’s number, I hit call, and it rings five times before going to her voicemail, so I give Dad a try. It starts ringing out, and I fear that’s going to go to voicemail as well, but he picks up with just moments to spare. “Pumpkin, how are you?” he says, his usual chirpiness making me want to break down in tears.

“Hey Daddy,” I say, my voice breaking as I struggle to get my words out. “Are you with Mom?”

“What’s going on?” he questions, instantly worried.

“Dad,” I repeat, quickly getting frustrated. “Are you with Mom? Can you put me on speaker?”

He mutters something under his breath, and I hear him walking around the house before talking to Mom in the background. He presses a few wrong buttons before finally putting me on speaker. “Honey, is that you? Are you alright?” my mother asks, concern thick in her voice.

“Hi Mom, are you sitting down?” I ask.

“I knew we were going to get this call sooner or later,” Dad grumbles to himself.

“Dad,” I snap, knowing exactly what’s going through his head. “I’m not pregnant. There’s been an incident at the hospital.”

Mom gasps as Dad finally zips his lips. “What kind of incident?” she questions.

I take a deep breath, unsure if I can get the sentence out without breaking down. “There was a gunman on my floor today,” I start.

“Stop that,” Mom cuts in, undeniable fear in her tone. “You stop that right now.”

“I wish I could, Mom,” I sigh.

“How bad is it?” Dad asks, needing the cold, hard facts.

Shit. This is harder than I thought. I take a breath and rip it off like a Band-Aid. “Okay, first, you need to know that I’m alright. I was locked down in the same ward as the gunman and was shot. The bullet went straight through my shoulder, nothing too serious. I’ve spent the afternoon in surgery, and now I’m doing okay.”

“Oh, honey,” Mom sobs.

I try my hardest to soothe her, but it’s not going to happen until she can lay her eyes on me and see for herself. “Alright, Pumpkin,” Dad says, his usual strong tone wavering. “We’re coming now.”

“Thanks, Dad. See you soon.”

Ending the call, I let out a breath. That couldn’t have been easy for them. Getting the phone call to say your child has been injured must be awful, and I don’t doubt they’ll be here in record time, probably breaking a shitload of traffic laws in the process.

With my phone still in my hand, I hash out a quick text to Mel, tears now freely trailing down my face.

Gigi – I’m okay.

She texts back almost immediately.

Mel – Thank fuck, you’re awake. I’m on my way.

I can just imagine her running around our apartment in a flurry, grabbing her stuff along the way while trying to remember a few things to grab for me, though I have no doubt there will be a second or third trip home to get the things she’s forgotten. The thought brings a smile to my face and is enough to keep the tears at bay.

With the most important people in my life on their way, I take a moment to catch up. I close my eyes and take a few slow, deep breaths. With each one, I find a small piece of myself, and eventually I’m able to pull myself together.

It doesn’t take long before my parents show up and instantly check me over. Mom fusses about with tears in her eyes as she orders the nurses to grab more blankets and pillows, all of which I don’t need, but if it’s going to help ease her mind, I’ll deal with it. Hell, I’ve been the nurse on the other end of this a million times before, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to help put those scared parents at ease.

Sean comes back in, and I do the quick introductions, barely getting a chance to tell them anything about him before Mel bursts through the door with Tom hot on her heels. I have to resist scowling at him, still not forgiving him for the speeding ticket laying in the backseat of my car.

Mel throws herself at me, making both my mother and Sean gasp, but I trust her completely, and she holds me tighter than any of them have. She cries, which only brings on a round of my own tears, and then being the Mel I know and love, the second her tears are dry, she dives for my chart. She quickly scans over it and within seconds is going off on a rant about Katrina, the night nurse, for not giving me the absolute strongest pain meds available.

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