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I need more. All of him.
Closing my eyes, I push open the door and take a second to collect myself before opening them. Nicholas is on the bed, asleep. His handsome face is serene and the left side a bit swollen, bruising. There’s a bandage over his temple that reaches back and over his skull where some of his hair has been shaved off.
Lower, I skim his soft lips and then angular jaw toward more dressing. His neck looks fine until you reach the collarbone where I find him in some kind of brace that limits movement. Did he dislocate his shoulder?
They seem to have the wrapping tight and protecting the swollen area. Walking closer, I pause at the edge of his bed and inspect him from head to toe, finding another wound down his arm with more stitches. More dried blood.
My poor Champ.
There’s a chair next to his bed that I angle toward him and sit down. Taking his hand in mine, I just hold it for a few seconds and let the warmth of his touch soothe me. “You scared the hell out of me,” I whisper, choking on my emotions. “You can’t get hurt like this again. Never again.” His fingers twitch, and I bend down to kiss his knuckle, then lay my head over his hand as a few tears escape. “I love you so much, Nick. Please, baby, open those eyes for me.”
The door to his room opens a few minutes later, and his parents slip inside. They’re smiling, some of the worry they’ve been carrying no longer showing. Now a bit calmer, they seem happy.
“Everything okay?” I ask, sitting up but keeping Nick’s hand in mine.
Richard walks around the bed and takes his place opposite of mine. “Evan is awake—a bit in pain—but happy as all hell after seeing Crystal by his side.”
A huge smile breaks out across my face. “That’s great news!”
I’m genuinely happy for her. Them.
“It’s why we took so long,” Caroline explains. She stops beside me and places her hand over her son’s and mine. Gives them a squeeze. “After hearing Crystal scream, the nurse rushed in and we followed, thinking the worst. Instead, what we found was adorable…she was peppering his face with kisses.”
“I didn’t hear anything?”
“And everyone understands that your attention is occupied at the moment.” Looking down at his son, Richard lets out a heavy sigh. “Jesus, kid.” He catalogs each cut, bruise, and the bandages littering his upper body.
As his parents, they’re hurting for him. It’s different from what I am experiencing; just as heartbreaking, but on another level. While his injuries aren’t life threatening, seeing someone you love in a hospital bed is unbearable.
“Please take a seat, Caroline.”
I make a move to stand, but she shakes her head. “Don’t, sweetheart,” she whispers, her voice suddenly thick with emotion. “You’re right where he needs you to be.” Leaning over the bed, she lays a tiny kiss on his cheek and then on my forehead.
“Thank you.” What else could I say? Her acceptance of us warms my heart, makes me feel like I’m part of the family and not someone she just met. Clearing my throat, I look at his dad. “Have you guys spoken to their doctor?”
“We saw him in Evan’s room.” Grabbing the small water pitcher on Nick’s tray table, he pours himself a glass and takes a hearty sip. “They’re going to be fine. Evan has a broken ankle and suffered a mild concussion, while Nick dislocated his shoulder. When the concrete wall fell on him, he pierced his skin with a metal piece of rebar—the two cuts are quite deep. On his head, they used ten staples, while his shoulder needed over fifty stitches. Because of the blow to the head and the loss of blood, he lost consciousness.”
“Oh God,” I gasp, my hand covering my mouth while his mother wraps her arms around me. “When will he wake up? Did they check for any internal injuries?”
“His scans came back clear. I promise that they did a thorough job in treating him,” his Mom says, her voice soft and soothing. “I know his doctor; they’ve worked together before on the same medical team abroad.”
“And waking up?” God, all I want is for those eyes to open. For him to smile at me. Kiss me.
“Any moment now. Whenever he is ready.”
Something tickles me. It’s soft and causes me to wiggle my nose. “Stop,” I whine, batting a hand blindly. My fingers meet the air and then scratchy sheets. What the hell?
Where am...
It all comes back then.
Nick’s accident and the call to his parents. The two flights on little to no sleep, and then seeing him on a bed, unconscious. His injuries. His hand in mine, and the twitch of his fingers while I whispered my love.
Two days of agonizing wait while I kept vigil at his side. I must’ve fallen asleep.
Once again, a feather-light touch bops my nose and this time, it’s followed by a warm chuckle.
A chuckle that’s very close. A chuckle I know.
