“What’s the healing timeline?” I ask.
“The wound should close in about two to three weeks, as long as there’s no infection. You’ll have normal finger and wrist movement within a week, and we’ll start very light shoulder-mobility exercises during week two. By week four, you can resume daily activities, but no heavy lifting or sports.”
Andrea processes everything for a few seconds, eyes lost somewhere over the doctor’s shoulder. When she speaks again, she sounds skeptical. “So, like… no sex, either?”
“Andrea!” Isabella scolds while I clench my teeth. Of course, she’d be worried aboutthat.
“What? It’s a fair question,” Andrea defends herself.
“It all depends on the kind of intercourse we’re talking about, but I wouldn’t recommend it for at least four weeks. Optimally, six.”
“Even if I just lie spread ea—”
“Thank you, Doctor,” I say, cutting Andrea off.
She’s clearly holding back her amusement, doing her best to remain professional. “You’re welcome,” she says before returning her attention to Andrea. “We’ve notified the police, and they’ll be here in the morning to take your statement. Is that okay with you?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Again, you were very lucky, Miss Walker.”
“It doesn’t really feel like it at the moment, but thank you.”
The doctor nods a salute and leaves the room after returning the chart to its holder.
Andrea doesn’t waste a second turning to me inquisitively. “My fiancé?”
I sigh. “I wasn’t sure what the policy was on boyfriends. So, I lied to make sure they’d let me be with you. And when it turned out I didn’t need to lie, it felt weird to let them know.”
“Sure… Can I drink again?” Isabella quickly complies, bringing the cup and straw near her lips. “And I’m starving. Can you see if you can find a Snickers bar somewhere, Mom?”
“Of course,pollito. I’ll see where Rafa and Kate are, too.”
“Perfect, thank you,mamá.”
I’m almost tempted to follow Isabella, knowing Andrea enough to realize she wants us alone on purpose.
“I know you’ll be insufferable about it,” she starts, almost jaded, “so I’ll just say it. The goal wasn’t to take a bullet for you, but to push you out of the way.”
“The result is the same, isn’t it?”
“The intent isn’t.”
She squints at me, daring me to oppose her reasoning. Which, of course, I do. “You put yourself in danger.”
“And I’d do it all over again.”
There it is. Her infuriating stubbornness. “Don’t say that.”
“Why?”
“Because I can’t stand the idea that you’d sacrifice your life for mine!”
“It’s not about sacrificing myself, Lex. It’s about saving you. Again.”
“The outcome is the same in the end.”
“I didn’t die.”
