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“It’s standard practice. Just in case—”
“In case what?”
“In case we need to take Ava to theatre.”
“Why would you need to do that?” I ask, my vocal chords straining with the effort not to shout.
She motions to the door, not answering, because she doesn’t have an answer. “You can sit with her while you wait.”
“Thanks,” I murmur, dragging my heavy body to the room. I wince when I see her on the bed, looking washed out.
“Give me your keys,” Sam says, holding his hand out. “Your car’s blocking one of the ambulance bays. They’re calling a tow truck.”
I pat at my pockets, frowning. “I left them in there.”
Sam leaves me and Kate alone, and I keep pacing, fighting to keep my temper in check. I know it’s fear fueling it. The longer the silence stretches, the higher the tension gets, Kate constantly flicking me cautious looks, me constantly cursing under my breath, raking a hand through my hair so much I’m sure I won’t have any left by tomorrow. The pressure inside is becoming uncontrollable.
“This,” I say, finally bursting, jabbing my finger toward Ava. “Is the very reason I do not want her drinking. I know all of you think it’s just because of my toxic relationship with drink, but it’s not. It’s this.”
“So you admit you had a toxic relationship with drink?” Kate asks, as if that’s appropriate right now.
“Fuck off, Kate.”
She closes her eyes, guilt finding her. “Jesse, calm down. She had three glasses of wine. She wasn’t drunk.”
“Sure,” I grunt, dropping to a chair and taking Ava’s hand in mine, clenching it hard, willing her to open her eyes.
Wake up.
But she doesn’t, and my heartbeats become duller by the minute.
43
Hours pass.I check every inch of her, more than once, looking for cuts, bruises, blemishes, marks, any injuries that may need looking at, despite knowing the nurses did that when we arrived. A doctor comes, assesses her, and leaves, asking the nurses to monitor her heartbeat and blood pressure, and they come in every half hour to check Ava’s stats, reminding us each time there’s only supposed to be one person in the room, so Kate and Sam tag team, dipping in and out when they can, bringing coffees, asking if I need anything, telling me they’ve checked in with John and Drew. Kate mentions Ava’s parents. Fuck, no, I am not calling them, not yet. What will they think of me?
I glance down at my Rolex. Three thirty. Kate’s snuck back in. My arse is dead, my heart slowing more with every minute that ticks by, and the pressure inside is becoming unbearable. It needs to release or I’m going to implode. I look at Kate. “Why were you testing me?”
“What?”
“When you invited Ava out tonight, you were testing me.” I saw it in her eyes when she asked, her attention fully on me, watching for my reaction.
“You can’t control her.”
“I don’t want to control her. I want to keep her safe.”
Kate leans forward on her chair, her attention acute and all on me. “What from, Jesse?” she asks. “What the hell are you so scared of losing her to?”
I shy away from her question. “I know I’m a little over the top sometimes,” I say quietly.
“Passionate,” Kate says, almost correcting me, surprising me too. I look at her, and she rolls her eyes, sitting back again. “She’ll always fight you because your expectations are fucking ridiculous.”
Nice. I thought she loved me. “There’s nothing ridiculous about being worr—”
Ava murmurs, her hand moving, her face screwing up. “Ava?” I breathe, too much air leaving me, my relief immeasurable. “Ava baby, open your eyes.” I take in her pasty complexion, her usually olive skin gray, her lips dry. Dead. It’s taking too much energy to be patient and calm. “Will someone tell me what the fuck is going on,” I yell.
Her eyes open.
“Ava, baby?” I get close, smelling her, watching her, feeling her.
