“Can I see her now?” I rasp and wonder when my hands started shaking.
“I’ll take you to her room.”
“And can you go tell my friend in the waiting room that my wife is stable, and that he can go home?” I can’t face Kostos right now. A single kind smile from him would make me break down, and I can’t afford to do that.
“Of course,” the doctor says kindly.
He leads me down the hall. He opens the door to Maura’s room, gently closing it behind me when I enter.
Half-open blinds show a dark sky outside. It’s already night. Already, the bright blue sky from our hike feels like a distant dream. Small beeps from Maura’s monitor fill the room. It’s a comforting reminder that she’s still here, still alive.
I take the small, padded seat next to her bed and gaze over at her. She looks thinner and paler than ever, her skin veined likedelicate flower petals. She looks like I could bruise her with the lightest touch.
I’m furious with her, I realize. She kept a fundamental truth about herself from me. If I knew about her heart condition, I would have refused to take her on that hike. I would have made her take a specialist doctor with us. I would have fucking stopped this, if she’d given me a goddamn chance.
I would scream at her, if it would do any good. She just lies there, peacefully sleeping, unaware of the hell she put me through over the past few hours.
Even though the monitors are beeping, it's not enough. I have to hear it for myself. I bend over, lowering my ear against her chest until I can hear her heart beating. Every beat makes the anger ebb away, my fury going from a roaring bonfire to a small, flickering flame.
She’s still here. She’s safe. She’s just asleep, not gone.
My neck starts to ache, and I realized I’ve stayed listening to her heartbeat for far longer than I planned.
34
MAURA
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
The small electronic noises seep into my consciousness like the world's gentlest alarm clock. My eyelids feel impossibly heavy as I flit them open, taking in the room around me.
The real I'm lying is unfamiliar. The monitor beeps and the antiseptic hospital smell are not. My heart has put me back in the hospital, but not one I know. The staff and rooms are completely alien to me.
In my peripheral vision, something shifts. Someone’s sitting next to me, a black blur against the white walls. The same person is holding my hand. James. His grip tightens and he leans forward, his face close to mine.
“You’re awake.” His voice sounds hoarse and groggy. It matches the rest of him, still wearing the clothes from our hike, dirt still dusted across his face and nose. He looks like he spent the whole night awake. It's possible that he did.
“Hi,” I whisper. It's the loudest I'm capable of being at the moment.
James releases my hands and grabs the electronic pager attached to my bed. “I'm calling the doctor,” he explains. He doesn't have to; I spent enough time in hospitals to know what it is.
“What happened?” I ask, but he shakes his head.
“They'll explain when they get here. They said you could have ice chips, if you want.”
I nod eagerly. I'm suddenly aware of how parched my mouth feels.
James walks out of the room, returning quickly with a small plastic cup. He places a small piece in my mouth, accurately guessing that I don't have the strength to lift my arms yet. I close my lips around the ice and let it melt on my tongue.
A tall, dark-haired man in a white coat enters, closing the door behind him.
“It's good to see you awake,” he says in a deep voice. “I’m Dr. Dimakos. I’ve been treating you for the past thirty-six hours.”
I glance over at James. Has he really not left to change clothes for that long?
