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The doctor’s mouth dropped, and he looked confused. “Mr. McLean, I don’t understand.”
Holding my breath, I knew what he was going to say before the words left his mouth. He nodded over at me, his eyes pleading and sad. “There’s no need to wait for anyone. Everleigh is the best damn neurosurgeon I know of. If anyone can save my son, it’s her.”
My mother gasped and shook her head. “David, that’s a lot of pressure to put on her. What if something goes wrong? She’ll never forgive herself.”
She turned to me, tears staining her cheeks. Martha collapsed into David’s arms, sobbing as he held her tight, his desperate gaze still on mine. So many emotions were warring inside of me, but he was right. I didn’t trust anyone else to perform the surgery, but I could lose the man I loved if I did something wrong. It was a lot of pressure.
The doctor walked up to me and shifted his eyes to the corner of the room. We moved away from everyone, and he lowered his voice. “I didn’t want to assume you’d be up for the surgery, Dr. Abbott. I know this is personal for you. That’s why I had contacted the other neurosurgeon to come in.”
I glanced over at everyone else, watching us intently. “It’s okay,” I said in a low voice. “We don’t have time to waste.” I met his brown gaze and blew out a breath. “I’ll do it.”
Dr. Gamboa nodded and smiled sadly. “Let’s get you ready.”
He left the waiting room, and Martha flung her arms around my neck. “Thank you, Everleigh,” she cried.
She passed me over to David, who embraced me even harder. “We trust you,” he whispered.
Once he let me go, my parents were waiting for their turn. My mother cupped my cheeks, her gaze searching mine. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
I glanced back and forth from her to my dad. “Yes. I have to.”
They let me go and before I could walk out the door, Nyla grabbed my hand and squeezed. “You’ve got this, Everleigh.” Her words of encouragement warmed my heart.
Jensen needed me and I needed him. I couldn’t fail.
28
EVERLEIGH
The surgery had lasted two hours, but it felt like an eternity. I had to make every move with deliberate and careful precision, ensuring that the clot had been removed and the bleeding had stopped. But now, the hard part was yet to come: the wait. In that time of uncertainty, we would learn whether Jensen had suffered any brain damage due to the operation or the trauma itself.
The sound of the heart monitor filled the room, and I watched as his chest rose and fell with each breath. It was a comforting sound, a reminder that he was still alive. But it was also a reminder of how fragile life was. One moment you could be living your life and the next, everything could change.
A soft knock sounded on the door and David and Martha walked in, carrying a large basket of goodies. Martha set it down on the rolling table and started crying as she approached me.
“You are such a blessing, sweetheart. I don’t know how we’ll ever be able to thank you.”
I was exhausted, so I leaned into her embrace. “Don’t thank me until he wakes up,” I whispered sadly. “We’re not in the clear yet.”
She let me go and went back to the basket, pulling out various meals and snacks. “Everyone on our street made you food. There are pinwheel sandwiches, little quiches, and Georgia even made some mini pecan pies for you.”
My stomach growled, but I was too tired even to eat. However, it warmed my heart to see how supportive our neighbors were.
“It all sounds amazing,” I said, focusing back on Jensen.
His face was pale, and he was so still. All I wanted was for him to wake up. David clasped my shoulder, his voice soothing.
“Why don’t you go home and take a break? Martha and I will be here when you get back.”
I shook my head. “I want to be here when he wakes up.”
Martha grabbed my hand and squeezed. “He knows you’re here, Everleigh. And you know how upset he’ll be when he wakes up and sees you haven’t been taking care of yourself.”
At this point, I didn’t care if he got upset over me being by his side. I didn’t want to leave, but I couldn’t deny David and Martha alone time with their son. He was just as important to them as he was to me.
“Okay,” I gave in, taking one last look at Jensen. “I’m going to run by my house, and then head to Jensen’s to grab him some things. I’ll be right back.”
Martha nudged me toward the door and grabbed a container of pinwheel sandwiches, thrusting them in my hands. “Make sure you eat. You’re no good to Jensen if you’re laid out on the floor from hunger and exhaustion.”
