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“Mrs. Camden?” A voice breaks us out of our group huddle and we turn to face a man wearing blue scrubs waiting for our response. Carol steps forward. “No, the other Mrs. Camden.Freddie’s wife,” he states and all eyes turn to me. A blush creeps over my face and I step forward.
“He told them I was his wife so I could ride in the ambulance with him,” I whisper out of the side of my mouth and I’m met with curious grins.
“Ah, Mrs. Camden. Your husband’s surgery was a success. He’s in recovery and once he’s awake we’ll take him up to his room and you can stay with him if you’d like.”
I shift awkwardly on my feet and turn to look at the family. Carol’s sobbing lightly, Lola’s clutching Dan and Ivy stands proudly with her arms around her mum and sister’s shoulders. “Erm, maybe his mum or sister would prefer to stay with him when he wakes up,” I offer and watch as they all shake their heads.
“No, I think hiswifeshould be there.” Carol smiles through her tears and manages a wink in my direction.
“Okay then.” The doctor smiles uncomfortably and continues to speak to me. “I’ll get a nurse to bring you to him once he’s awake. He was very lucky he got the medical attention when he did. You saved his life. He’s very lucky to have you.” He smiles kindly and then spins on his heels and walks in the opposite direction.
Before I turn back to face them all, I take a huge breath of relief and thank Reg and everyone up there for not taking him away from all of us.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Phoebe
“Will you stop, please?” They are absolutely unrelenting.
“Sorry, Mrs. Camden.” Lola giggles into Dan’s shoulder and Ivy and Carol smirk in my direction, the tension lifted knowing Freddie is okay.
“You lot all suck. The worst in-laws anyone could have asked for,” I joke back and remind my hopeful heart that he said what he said when he thought he was dying. A brush with death might not be enough to rid him of arsehole Freddie. Part of me wants to see him desperately and the other part is scared I’ll be hurt again. The emotional whiplash I’ve endured from him the past few years has caused a little damage.
“Mrs. Camden?” A round of giggles chorus around me and break me from my thoughts and I turn my widened eyes to them to get them to shut up. “Mr. Camden is awake and is asking to see you all.” I blow out a breath of disappointment that he doesn’t want to see me alone and quickly cast it away again.‘Of course he wants to see his bloody family, Phoebe,’I beratemyself silently as I follow them through the halls. Ivy falls into step beside me and nudges me with her elbow.
“You know we’re only teasing you.” I nod, unable to form words as the nerves radiating from my belly are threatening to climb up my throat and spill out into a garbled mess of sounds that should be words. “Stop worrying. When Freddie thought he was dying, he phoned you. He told you he loved you and he meant it. If this isn’t the wake up call he needed to sort his life out once and for all then it’s his loss. You’ll always have us, and you’ll always be a Camden.” She wraps her arm around my shoulder and I rest my head on her, words not needed to show her how much I appreciate her.
The nurse stands outside of room twenty-six and knocks gently. “I’ve got your family for you, Mr. Camden.” She opens the door a little wider and I hide behind Dan’s back, not wanting to see him or for him to see me either. I don’t think I could take it if he were horrible to me right now.
“Is Pheebs… sorry, Mrs. Camden here?” His voice sounds raspy and breathless, and before I can banish the unshed tears forming in my eyes, Dan and Lola part in front of me and leave me facing Freddie.
A gasp falls from my lips when I see him. His eyelids are heavy, with dark circles around his eyes. An oxygen tube in each nostril helps him breathe easily, but his skin is sallow. An ugly purple bruise mars his skin around the dressing on his bare chest. He looks fragile, almost as if he’ll break if he’s touched. I want to bolt away. Run to somewhere safe, where this isn’t happening, but I can’t get my feet to move. I chew furiously on my lip as I take in his bruised and battered form.
His bed is slightly propped up and he smiles when he sees me. “Pheebs.” It’s all it takes to snap me out of my shocked state and send me striding toward the side of his bed.
I sit down in the chair, take his hand gently, squeeze it tightly, and place it on my cheek. “I’m still so mad at you, Freddie Camden, but I’m so happy you’re alive. You scared the crap out of me.”
He chuckles and then winces and the whole family steps toward his bed.
“I’m fine guys. Just sore and tired. Do you mind if I talk to Phoebe alone?”
I notice a jug of water and a cup on the table next to his bed and grab it to try to soothe his raspy voice. As I pour the contents into the white plastic cup, Lola and Dan step forward. Dan squeezes Freddie’s hand whilst Lola bends and kisses his cheek. Ivy takes their place when they leave and she awkwardly shuffles up to his bedside.
“You not going to lecture me about what I need to do to recuperate, Sis?” Freddie smiles at her, their eyes meeting, and all remnants of their squabble are gone.
She leans a little closer to him, checks the bruising around the bandage and kisses his cheek. “Rest and listen to the doctors. Or I’ll come back and unleash my bedside manner on you. Believe me, I’m not as nice as them. Love you, Fred.” She stands up straight and makes way for Carol.
Holding onto the cup of water, I can’t look away from the mother and son exchange. Before a single word has been spoken, my eyes fill with tears.
“You listen to me, Freddie. You do as the doctors say. My heart isn’t ready to say goodbye to you, you hear me?” He nods his head and swallows hard, probably fighting the emotion that's pouring out of my and everyone else's eyes.
“I’m sorry, Mum. I really am.” She places her finger on his mouth and stops him from saying anymore.
“I know, Fred, I know. Make it all okay now.” She tilts her head in my direction and I feel everyone's eyes on me as I shiftawkwardly and toy with the rim of the plastic cup, avoiding all of their stares. She places a kiss on his forehead and squeezes his hand as she turns and ushers everyone out of the room.
I thought I’d feel more comfortable with them gone, but, instead, I don’t know what to do with myself. Do I go over and sit beside him? Do I hand him the water or help him drink it? Am I mad with him for ghosting me? For being so cold and arseholey?
“Pheebs?” His voice is croaky again and it spurs me into action. I take the water over to him and help lift his head a little so he can sip some of it.
