“Hey, hey,” he said, comforting her physical pain when it was the emotional pain crushing her. He cradled her with half an arm as he tried to stanch the flow of blood.
Dex and a few guys with a white stretcher crowded into the conference room. One of the EMTs ripped open a packet of sterile gauze and took over applying pressure. Phoenix moved back as they hoisted her onto the stretcher.
“No,” she insisted, twisting wildly away from the man holding the bandage.
Phoenix stepped by her side, taking her hand. “Shh,” he said, “You need me to come with you?”
She nodded weakly and lay back onto the firm white surface. She held onto his hand. “Don’t leave me,” she said, and the meaning of the words struck her.Don’t leave me—now, ever.
“I’m right here,” he said.
They wheeled through the corridor, then crowd, rendered mute, to the elevator bank. Joan stood with another woman, mouth agape.
The motion of the swinging stretcher made her dizzy, and she shut out the world. In the dark behind her eyelids, Orchid could feel the swaying to the elevator, the rush of movement downwards, and through it all, the warmth of Phoenix’s hand. The medics hoisted her into the back of the emergency vehicle, breaking her connection to Phoenix.
She tried to sit up to protest. He clambered in beside her and she relaxed into the pressure of his palm against hers.
In the ambulance, despite the stinging pain, Orchid couldn’t stop looking at Phoenix. Even if she died, seeing him study her bandaged forehead with care was worth it.
“I want to be cremated,” she said from the back of the ambulance. “I don’t want to waste space in the ground.”
“You’re not dying,” he said, squeezing her hand.
“Then I don’t want to go to the hospital,” she said, feeling an impish humor cross over her face.
“Too late,” he said.
“I’m sorry if I ruined your party.”
“You kidding? With that crowd, I promise you they’re still boozing it up without us.”
Her chest squeezing a little less hard, she was able to study him closer. Fine lines had deepened between his brows. A flash of gray shone in his dark mane. Smooth flesh stretched taut over bone where his hand had been. He glared, catching her staring at the asymmetry of his left arm.
“Are you okay? Does that hurt?” Her reach wavered, then stretched for the arm on his far side.
He edged back, keeping out of her radius. “That’s not really your thing, remember?”
She processed the tight set of his lips, trying to make her fuzzy brain fathom something nearly within grasp of her consciousness.Not really my thing? What does he mean?
They arrived at Roosevelt’s ER where Orchid was whisked inside for registration and care. The scent of antiseptic, flickering of cold overhead bulbs, and sound of tinny voices paging doctors yanked Orchid back to a place sixteen years ago. Even though she wanted to shut out the place, her eyes widened.
Phoenix read her face and leaned down as they wheeled her to a room. “You are a strong woman. You run multi-million-dollar brands, travel the world, sway unit presidents to invest in your business and cook like a champ. You are going to be fine.”
“Thanks, but maybe this isn’t such an easy place for you to be, either,” she said. “When did that happen?” She indicated his arm peeking out from under the rolled white shirt cuff.
“Would you believe, the day you left for China.”
Her inhale hitched.Gray day. Plane in the sky. Phoenix on the ground.Unimaginable. His wry tone hinted at pain.
“While I was away? What happened? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why are you surprised? I figured I didn’t need to tell you after we saw each other in December,” he said, confusing her more.
“December?”
“At the holiday party.”
The nurse interrupted to settle her into a bed, clean her wounds, and measure her temperature, blood pressure, and pulse.
