Gwen pointed to Taryn’s treatment bay, where the curtain was still tightly drawn around it. “How’s Tar doing?”
The somber note in her voice told of her worry, possibly exacerbated by the fact that she’d seen all of it happen firsthand. Cassie reminded herself that Gwen wasn’t a medical professional, and crashes often looked worse than they were, especially when they involved loved ones. She then reinforced that with the assertion that Fischer was the best doctor Taryn could have asked for. His patient survival rate was 83% and second only to hers. She squeezed away the temptation to flick through his latest records to do the math. Was he due some of his 17%?This is about people, not statistics. Taryn was physically the strongest woman she’d ever met; she was tough, and she loved life.Thosewere the things that would pull her through this. Her survival wouldn’t be at the mercy of quantitative numbers.
“Dr. Kennedy?”
Cassie tuned back into Gwen’s voice and pasted on a professional expression. “She’s in excellent hands. Dr. Fischer will let you know how she’s doing as soon as he’s able.”
Gwen frowned. “I know you have to seem detached for everyone else in here, but you’re talking like a robot, doc. I’m her friend… You’re her…lover? From the little I’ve seen of you two together, I thought you were more invested in her well-being. Am I wrong? Don’t you feel anything?”
Cassie gritted her teeth against the inference that she didn’t care for Taryn, when she actually wanted to scream, and bargain, and whatever the hell else it would take to ensure Taryn was safe and healthy on the other side of that damned blue curtain.
“Give her a break, wife.” Fig patted Gwen’s hand then coughed.
Gwen immediately turned away from Cassie. She pulled an ice chip from a cup of them she’d just returned with and pressed it to Fig’s lips. She sucked it for a while before crunching it into oblivion and giving a lop-sided grin.
“I’ll giveyoua break,” Gwen said. “What the hell are you doing getting yourself banged up like this?”
Cassie would’ve laughed had she not just been on the receiving end of Gwen’s ire.
Fig lifted her arm to point at Cassie and her face crumpled in discomfort. “Not everyone is like you and me. Some people just hook up for the sex, you know that. Especially people in high pressure careers where they don’t have time for real intimacy.”
Christ. With Gwen’s pop psychology and Fig’s philosophy, Cassie felt like retreating to the on-call room now that the ER had calmed down. “I’ll leave you to it.”
Gwen widened her eyes and put her hands on her hips. “I don’t think you will.”
Again, Cassie had to fight the urge to laugh. She was maybe eight years younger than Cassie but was acting like she was the matriarch. Cassie idly wondered if that’s what role she fulfilled for the not-so-little stunt family she’d met last week. “I have other patients to attend,” she said calmly. “If you’ll excuse me.”
Gwen shook her head and stepped toward the end of the bed. “No, we will not excuse you. Do you care for Taryn or not?”
“Wife,” Fig said and got a powerfully silencing stare from Gwen.
Cassie shrugged and pulled the curtain partially closed. There seemed to be little harm in answering Gwen’s question honestly, particularly if it would serve to stop the interrogation. “I care for her deeply, and because of that, I wasn’t able to treat her. The AMA Code of Ethics advises us not to treat family or anyone when our feelings might affect their care in some way.” She admitted the formality of it sounded like a hollow, practiced excuse, but she’d also been physically prevented from treating Taryn. She was certain that any further attempt she made would’ve been met with security protocols, especially once Barr was in play.
Gwen waved her words away as if they were tangible stink in the air. “Pff. That doesn’t mean you have toactlike you don’t give a shit.”
Cassie pulled her shoulders back and stiffened. Enough of this. She yanked the curtain back, and Dinah gave her a questioning look from across the main room. She faintly shook her head to indicate there was nothing for her to worry about.
“Doc, please don’t go just yet. Let me explain.” Fig attempted to push up from the bed to a seated position.
“What are you doing?” Gwen rushed back to her side but helped her get into a more comfortable position. When Fig was settled, her indignant expression was restored. “And what do you need to explain?”
Fig took Gwen’s hand and shook her head slowly as she let out a deep sigh. “You’re projecting, wife.”
Cassie bit her bottom lip to stop a smirk. The way Fig referred to Gwen only as “wife” was adorable, and even amid this tension, Cassie could appreciate something so tender and intimate.
“I’m sorry, doc,” Fig said. “We’re soulmates, you see. I know you’re a woman of science and probably don’t believe in that kind of thing, but we do, and we were meant to be together, to find each other.”
Fig looked at Gwen in a way that made Cassie’s heart ache and might even convince her that what Fig had said was true. She smiled and took a step closer to the bed to show she wasn’t about to bolt, despite Gwen’s attitude.
“Now that we’ve found each other, the thought of losing what we have… The thought of me dying is terrifying, and it’s something she has to deal with every time I get on my bike for the shows.”
Gwen’s shoulders began to shake, softly at first, before she dissolved into a full sob and dropped into the chair beside Fig’s bed.
“Aw, wife. Come on, it’s okay.I’mokay.” Fig reached over and gently rubbed her wife’s back as Gwen cried into her hands.
In her peripheral vision, Cassie saw Rachel enter the ER with someone, another performer from the show if her leather outfit was anything to go by. As they drew closer, Cassie realized it was Dee, Fig’s twin, and beckoned her over. Dee jogged across the room quickly and made her way to the other side of Fig’s bed. They hugged then fist-bumped.
Dee jutted her chin toward Gwen. “What’re you wasting your tears for, Gwenny? Our girl’s invincible.”
