I think of our marriage like that. What was beautiful then is even more beautiful now. Because we worked so hard to hold onto it.
I don't despair, I think of Wendy, and I hope.
Chapter Forty-Two
Atlas
"For Wendy Durant?"
I pop up like a jack-in-the-box when a blonde doctor appears in the doorway. My legs feel like they might give out at any second, the adrenaline still buzzing through my veins.
My dad has been in and out of this waiting room for hours, making calls and organizing logistics—to my mom, to Michelle so she can handle the garage this week without me, to the other garages to cover him, to Trace and Taylor so they can run to the house and grab clothes for us.
The second I hear Wendy's name, everything else falls away.
"You must be the husband," she says with an easy smile, reaching out to shake my hand.
I take it, and am rather surprised by her grip strength. She's in dark navy blue scrubs, a badge clipped to it that readsDoctorin bright, bold letters.
"I'm Dr. Carolina King, Wendy's surgeon."
Something in my chest lightens at the doctor's first name.Carolina.Not really a common name.
In fact, I've only met two in my life—this doctor and my sister-in-law.
Is this a sign or just a coincidence?
I'll take it as a sign, agoodone at that.
"Is my wife okay?" The words tumble out of my mouth on top of each other.
"Wendy did amazing," she says, her voice warm and confident, like she's sharing news she's excited to share. "They're taking her to her room now."
The euphoric relief that floods my body makes me so dizzy that I have to reach out to steady myself. Dr. King is already there, guiding me to sit back down.
"Go ahead and sit," she says gently, dragging a chair over and settling into it across from me. I rest my elbows on my knees and tuck my head down, breathing deeply. "She's okay, Atlas. She's great, in fact."
My brain latches onto those words, and they settle in deep as I try to get my heart to slow down.
"She's okay..." I gasp, relieved tears stinging in my eyes. "She's okay."
"She's great, Atlas," Dr. King smiles. "The surgery went extremely well. We addressed the internal bleeding first, and once she was stable, I repaired the pelvic fracture. We placed a small plate and a few screws to hold everything in place while the bone heals."
The words screws and plate make my stomach twist, but I meet Dr. King's warm hazel eyes and ask, "But she's going to heal, right?"
"Yes," Dr. King nods. "She's young and healthy, and with proper rest and physical therapy, she will heal beautifully. It will be a long road, but we'll get there."
The tension bleeds from my body, leaving me weightless.
I feel like I could lift a truck without a hydraulic press, run a marathon, and jump over a ten-foot fence, but all I really want to do is see my wife.
I need to lay eyes on her, to confirm to myself that she is alive and healthy.
"Can I see her?" I ask, my whole body tensing to jump up and race through this hospital to wherever she is. ICU or the operating room or behind a thousand locked doors, nothing could keep me out. I'd find her.
The internal compass in my body, which never stops pointing to Wendy, would let me know.
"She's still asleep right now," Dr. King says, softening her voice. "She's under anesthesia and heavy pain control, so she'llbe out for a while. When she wakes up, expect her to be groggy—maybe disoriented. That's completely normal, especially with a concussion."
