She had more than enough time to memorize every sound, every scent, and every sterile detail of this place.
The coffee in her hand was lukewarm and vile, a bitter sludge that coated her tongue with every cup she drank.She took another sip, wincing as the unpleasant burn seared her throat.
“Ugh, disgusting,” she protested quietly, but she drank it anyway.Because what else was there?Food had lost its taste weeks ago.Sleep was a fragile, fleeting thing that happened in brief, exhausted bursts when her body finally betrayed her and forced her into unconsciousness.She had stopped counting the days.The only thing that mattered was the steady rise and fall of Rex’s chest, the rhythmic beep of his heart monitor, and the way his fingers twitched sometimes, as if reaching for something—for her—before stilling again.
“Six weeks...”Six endless, soul-crushing weeks of watching him fight and watching the doctors come and go, their faces carefully neutral.He had bled out on that beach without anyone realizing, his body was shocked into submission by the sheer brutality of the trauma.The sepsis had set in like a silent assassin, creeping through his veins, poisoning him from the inside out.They had pumped him full of antibiotics and induced a coma while fighting to keep his organs from failing.
“Why aren’t you waking up, Rex?I need you to wake up,” she said in a teary voice.
Xia’s reflection in the smudged glass of the ICU window was a ghost of herself.Her cheekbones were sharper now, her collarbones jutting like accusatory fingers beneath her skin.Her once-lush curves had melted away, leaving behind a hollowed-out version of the woman she had been.She didn’t recognize herself anymore.She didn’t care.
“It doesn’t matter,” she whispered.“Not as long as he’s still here.”
She set the half-empty Styrofoam cup down on the plastic tray beside Rex’s bed.Her fingers trembled as she reached for his hand.His skin was too warm, clammy with the faintest sheen of sweat glistening beneath the harsh hospital lights.She traced the veins in his wrist.The pulse point fluttered weakly beneath her touch.Alive.He was still alive.
But for how long?
The dread coiled in her stomach like a snake, squeezing tighter with every passing hour.She had read the medical journals.She had scoured the internet, devoured every article, every case study, every horror story about sepsis.She knew what happened when the body gave up.She knew the worst-case scenarios.
And she needed to hear it from Cheri.
Xia
Dr.Cheri Butler’soffice, LSUHSC Trauma and Critical Care faculty...
The force of the door slamming open rattled the diplomas on the wall before Cheri could even react to the knock.Xia stood in the doorway with wild eyes and her breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps.She looked like a woman on the edge of unraveling.Her hair was tousled, her clothes rumpled, and her skin shallow beneath the fluorescent glare.
Cheri’s expression darkened.“Xia.You look like hell.”
Xia snorted.“I don’t want more of the usual bullshit mambo jumbo about Rex’s condition, Cheri.I want the truth.”
Cheri sighed, rubbing her temples.“You’re exhausted.You need to sleep.You need to eat.”
“Enough!”Xia snapped in a raw voice.She knew she was on the verge of collapse, the struggle to remain awake dragging her down.“I’m not leaving this hospital until Rex tells me to.In his own voice.In his own words.Until then?I’m not budging.”
Cheri’s jaw tightened.“You’re killing yourself.”
“Then put me on a feeding drip if you’re so concerned,” Xia shot back.Her hands curled into fists.“Because I’m not leaving him.”
A long, heavy silence stretched between them.Cheri studied her.Her dark eyes filled with something like pity.Then, finally, she nodded.
“Fine.You want the truth?Here it is.”She leaned forward, her voice dropping to a grave murmur.“If he doesn’t respond to the treatment...if the sepsis doesn’t clear...his organs will start to fail.One by one.First his kidneys.Then his liver.Then his lungs.His heart will struggle to keep up.He’ll swell, his skin will turn yellow, and his breathing will become labored.Then...”She paused, her throat working.“Then he’ll slip into multi-organ failure.And once that happens?There’s no coming back.”
Xia’s breath hitched.The room tilted.She could see it—Rex, pale and bloated, his body shutting down, his eyes glassy and unseeing.The machines flatlining.The doctors shaking their heads until...the final, terrible silence.
“How long?”she whispered.
Cheri’s expression was grim.“If he doesn’t wake up soon?Days.Maybe a week.”
Xia’s knees nearly gave out.She grabbed the edge of the desk, her knuckles turning white.“And if he does wake up?”
Cheri hesitated.“Then there’s a chance.A small one.But he’ll be weak.He’ll need months of rehab.He might never be the same.”
Xia closed her eyes.The burden of it pressed down on her like a physical force.But she wouldn’t break.Not yet.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice steady.“For not lying to me.”
Cheri reached out, squeezing her arm.“You need to take care of yourself, Xia.For him.”
