“You know everything is going to be okay, don’t you?”
“You think so?” I rasp, my voice faltering just slightly as the doubt seeps into my tone. “You think it’ll be okay?”
Her brows furrow as she takes a shaky breath, bringing her other hand up to cup my face in both of her palms now. “Of course I do, Tate. You’re going to be okay. The surgery is going to go smoothly and then you’ll recover and everything will be all right.”
It feels nearly impossible to swallow back the anxiety that seems to be festering in my throat at the moment. “N-not just the surgery, Mae. Do you think everything will be okay a-after? I mean, my mom is going to wanna talk to me, and I don’t know… I don’t know what to think or say or…”
“Tatum,” she cuts me off firmly, “you do not have to speak to anyone you don’t feel comfortable talking to. You don’thaveto do anything. Do you understand?”
“But I’m doing all of this…” I trail off.
“Exactly,” Maeve says, “you’re doing all of this, and that’s more than enough, wouldn’t you say? You’re doing more than enough for her, and you didn’t even have to. So, after it’s all said and done, if you don’t want to talk to her, don’t.”
“You don’t think I’d be awful for that?” I ask weakly, and I silently curse the tears that well in the corners of my eyes.
“Clark,” she whispers, “I don’t think you could be awful even if you tried.”
My lips are parted to speak again, but the nurse and a few other doctors are entering the room, ready to wheel me away. Maeve’s hands leave my face as we try to keep up with the overwhelming rush going on around us; some of the doctors are messing with the bed, some are standing off to the side, waiting.
“Unfortunately, you won’t be able to be in the OR with him,” the nurse tells Maeve, placing a friendly hand on her arm, “so we’ll give you a moment before we take him back.”
Maeve turns to me with a small smile, small but warm, and I grasp at her wrist like I might crumble if I don’t. I’m afraid that once I’m alone, the ground under my feet will give way, and the panic will fully take over.
“You’re gonna do great,” she tells me, her hand resting on mine and squeezing. “It’ll be over before you know it.”
“Maeve, I…”
I love you.
She peers down at me expectantly, waiting for me to finish speaking, but I don’t know how to get the words out, so I opt for something easier instead. A cop out.
“Will you be here…when I’m done?”
A soft laugh escapes her lips before she’s leaning down, making my heart flip with the movement, and pressing her lips to my forehead. My entire body relaxes into the bed further, my heart rate slowing a bit as I finally am able to take a deep breath. When she pulls back, she cocks her head in that sweet way she does, her nose scrunching playfully before it disappears.
“Where else would I go?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
MAEVE
Saturday, January 1st
My knee bounces impatiently as I sit cramped in this uncomfortable, ugly chair matching the dozens of others scattered around me in the waiting room. It’s been six hours of sitting here, getting up to go to the vending machines, filling up on gross hospital coffee, and losing my ever-loving mind worrying about Tate’s surgery. I know Dr. Hammond said it could take this long, but somehow that still doesn’t ease my nerves to think about.
No one’s updated me, but I didn’t expect them to. It’s not like I’m his wife or something, but still. The wait is nearly killing me.
He’s fine. I know he’s fine. Of all the surgeries to have, this one has to be on the minimal end, thankfully, but complications happen all the time.
Don’t think that. Shut up.
“Maeve?”
I blink rapidly as my neck almost breaks to look up at Dr. Hammond, who stands about a foot away, dressed in scrubs and a scrubcap compared to the usual doctor’s white coat I’m used to seeing. He’s giving me a friendly smile, no signs ofany underlying bad news, but my stomach does an anxious flip anyway.
“Hi,” I rasp, rubbing my palms against my jeans before pushing myself up from the chair, ignoring the sharp ache in my lower back from sitting here all day. “How is he?”
“Tatum is doing well. The surgery went smoothly,” Dr. Hammondsays as he nods, taking his scrub cap off. “He’s taking a while to come out of anesthesia, so we’re going to let him rest overnight. It appears he may need it.”
