“As long as you need.” The doctor’s expression softens slightly. “Within reason.”
Ethan lifts the sleeping Ben into his arms and we follow the doctor through the double doors. Down another corridor. Past more rooms with more people having more emergencies. Everything blurs together except for the sound of my shoes on the linoleum.
Squeak.
Squeak.
Squeak.
I’m dreading seeing Marco.
Dreading seeing the damage to his beautiful face and body.
Terrified of it.
The doctor stops outside a room with dim lighting visible through the window. “He’s in here. Take your time.”
Then he’s gone.
Ethan shifts Ben in his arms. She’s still out cold. Her face pressed against his shoulder. Frederick clutched in one hand that refuses to let go even in sleep.
“You ready?” he asks me.
No. Absolutely not. I’m never going to be ready to see what’s behind that door.
But I nod anyway.
We go inside.
The room is small. Quiet. The monitors beep softly. There are two chairs in the corner. A tray table. A window with the blinds pulled shut.
And Marco.
Except it’s not Marco.
It’s a body in a hospital bed with bandages wrapped around its head. Thick white gauze covering everything from forehead to jaw. Only his mouth and eyes visible. Except his eyes are closed. Taped shut actually. And his mouth is slack.
He looks... dead.
When the man who made you count orgasms last night looks like a mummy today.
No. Stop. Don’t think about that. Don’t think about anything except putting one foot in front of the other and making it to that chair without collapsing. Or balling your eyes out.
Shellshocked, I sit. The vinyl squeaks under me. Ben stirs slightly in Ethan’s arms but doesn’t wake.
“Want me to take her out?” Ethan asks quietly.
“No.” My voice is too loud. I dial it back. “No. She should be here. When he wakes up. She should be here.”
Ethan nods. Settles into the other chair with Ben still cradled against him. She weighs nothing. Just a small warm bundle of kid who shouldn’t have to deal with any of this.
I reach for Marco’s hand. The one that’s not wrapped in gauze. His fingers are cool. Still. I thread mine through his and squeeze.
Nothing.
No response. No squeeze back. No sign he even knows I’m here.
The monitors keep beeping. Steady. Reliable. Proof that his heart is still working even if the rest of him isn’t.
