“We stopped the internal bleeding,” the surgeon continued. “His spleen was ruptured, and he had significant damage to his liver, but we’ve repaired what we could. The bigger concern is the traumatic brain injury. There was considerable swelling, and we’ve had to place him in a medically induced coma to give his brain time to heal.”
“When will you bring him out of it?” Isabel asked, her voice steady despite the fear in her eyes.
Dr. Smith’s expression shifted, becoming even more careful. “That depends entirely on how well he responds over the next few days. We need the swelling to go down before we can safely reduce the sedation. It could be days, or it could be weeks.”
“But he’ll wake up?” Lynda’s voice was so small, so fragile, that Susan’s heart cracked.
“Ms. Morth, I need you to understand what we’re dealing with.” Dr. Smith met Lynda’s eyes directly. “Matt sustained a severe blow to his head during the impact. We won’t know the full extent of the damage until we bring him out of sedation. There’s a possibility…” He paused, choosing his words with obvious care. “There’s a possibility he may not wake up at all.”
Lynda swayed. Susan caught her before she fell, wrapping both arms around her friend as Lynda’s legs gave out completely. Isabel rushed to help, and together they lowered Lynda into the nearest chair.
“I need to see him.” Lynda’s voice broke on the last word. “Please. I need to see him.”
“Of course.” Dr. Smith’s professional mask softened slightly. “He’s being moved to the ICU now. Give us about thirty minutes to get him settled, and then one of you can go in. Only one visitor at a time, I’m afraid.”
After the surgeon left, Kathleen returned with four cups of coffee in a cardboard carrier. She took one look at their faces and set the drinks down with shaking hands.
“How bad?” she asked.
Susan filled her in while Lynda sat in the chair, crying silently, her hands covering her face. Isabel knelt beside her, one hand on her knee.
“Christmas Eve,” Lynda whispered. “We’re supposed to get married on Christmas Eve.”
No one knew what to say to that. What words existed that could make this better?
Susan pulled another chair close and sat down facing Lynda. She took her friend’s hands, forcing Lynda to look at her.
“Matt is strong,” Susan said firmly. “And he’s got every reason to fight. He loves you. He wants to marry you. That man has built a life here that matters to him, and you’re the center of it. He won’t give that up without a fight.”
“But what if he can’t fight?” Lynda’s face was streaked with tears, her eyes red and swollen. “What if the damage is too severe? What if I lose him before we even get to start our life together?”
Susan’s throat tightened. She thought about Paul, about the conversation they’d had about taking things slowly. About how he’d looked at her when he said he wanted to try building something real with her.
She thought about her own fear, the way she’d been holding back, waiting for the perfect moment to tell him how deeply she’d fallen for him. Waiting for some imaginary point in the future when everything would be certain and safe.
There was no such moment.
There might not be any moment at all.
“Listen to me.” Susan squeezed Lynda’s hands. “You and Matt found each other against all odds. Two people who’d both been hurt, who’d both given up on love, and you found each other anyway. That’s not something that just disappears because of an accident.”
“Susan’s right,” Kathleen added, moving to sit on Lynda’s other side. “Matt fights for the welfare of the animals you look after when any reasonable person would walk away. He fought for the wildlife center when the funding looked impossible. He fights for what matters to him.”
“And you matter to him,” Isabel said softly. “More than anything.”
Lynda nodded, wiping at her face with the back of her hand. “I can’t lose him. Not now. Not when we finally have a chance at happiness.”
They sat together in the harsh fluorescent light of the waiting room, four women bound by friendship and fear. Outside, the snow continued falling, covering the world in white as if trying to hide the ugliness of what had happened.
A nurse appeared in the doorway. “Ms. Morth? Your fiancé is settled in the ICU now. You can see him.”
Lynda stood on unsteady legs. Isabel started to rise with her, but Lynda shook her head.
“I need to do this alone first.” She looked at each of them. “Thank you. For being here. For driving through the snow. For everything.”
“We’re not going anywhere,” Kathleen promised.
They watched Lynda follow the nurse through the double doors, disappearing into the labyrinth of hospital corridors beyond.
