Page 85 of Wrecked

My mom and sister are here, and they visit me for short periods each day. But I tire easily and don’t feel much like talking.

Beth and Shane come to visit once a day, and each time Beth leaves in tears. For some reason, she insists on taking the blame for what happened to me. I try to convince her it’s not her fault. Of course, I had to save her from the path of the car, and not just because it’s my job, but because she’s a dear friend. I would willingly do the exact same thing for her all over again.

The headaches persist, and sometimes I’m in so much pain it brings me to tears. I hate crying like a baby, especially in front of Cooper. I even catch him teary-eyed a few times.

He remains at my side, day after day, leaving only for short periods to get food or coffee or find a shower. Shane brought him a supply of clothes. He helps me eat and drink.

Mom and Rachel call me every day. Cooper says they came to see me right after the accident and stayed a couple of days, but my memories of seeing them are blurry.

My most recent CT Scan shows the swelling in my skull is decreasing. That’s good news.

Gradually, the pain in my head decreases. My leg no longer hurts like it’s filled with broken glass every time I shift in bed.

I no longer catch Cooper crying when he thinks I’m still sleeping. And now his bossy voice is coming out more and more, especially when it comes to me eating and drinking. That has to be a sign that I’ll survive.

Finally, Dr. Newman releases me.

“Where am I going?” I ask Cooper. I obviously can’t take care of myself with this stupid leg in a cast—again. I’m expecting him to say I’m going to a rehab facility.

“You’re coming home with me,” he says as he runs his hand over my hair. “You’ll stay with me in the penthouse until you’re back on your feet.”

“Really?” That is definitely the silver lining in this awful cloud.

“Yes, really. When we get home, I’ll cook you a nice dinner.”

“Chicken and dumplings?” I ask hopefully. “And cornbread?”

He nods. “Whatever you want, baby.”

A medical transport comes to the hospital to pick me up. As they’re pushing my wheelchair out of my room, I notice a familiar figure standing outside my door—a McIntyre Security employee I’ve seen a time or two. “Derek? What are you doing here?”

“Hey, Sam,” he says. “I hear you’re going home.”

“How long have you been out here? Why didn’t you come in and say hi?”

Derek gives me a sheepish smile. “Actually, I’m on duty. No fraternizing with the client.”

“Who’s the client?”

Derek looks at Cooper, who shrugs. “You are,” Derek finally says to me. “We’ve been guarding your room since you got here.”

“All right, enough chit-chat,” Cooper says, cutting our conversation short. He motions for the transport attendant to keep moving. “Let’s get going.”

In the ambulance, I question Cooper about why I had security posted outside my hospital room.

“We’ll discuss this later,” he says. Clearly, he doesn’t want to talk shop in front of the attendants.

When we arrive at the apartment building, I’m wheeled up to the penthouse, Cooper by my side. The elevator is a bit crowded as we’re accompanied by the two attendants, one pushing my wheelchair, and the other one along for the ride I guess.

It looks like I’ll be confined to the wheelchair for the foreseeable future. According to Dr. Newman’s instructions, I can’t put any weight on my leg. I’m not even allowed to use crutches. It’s the wheelchair, or nothing.

Beth and Shane are there to greet us when I’m rolled inside.

“Are you okay?” Beth asks. She takes my right hand in hers. “You look pale.”

“All this moving around makes my leg ache.”

Beth directs the attendant where to take me—she’s fixed up a guest suite for me. The room is right next to his.