Ashrika
MY FIST PUNCHING THEpalm of the other hand, my butt perched on the edge of the seat, and my legs bouncing non-stop, I stared at the corridor leading toward the operation theater. I’d been sitting there for the last thirty minutes, my head a nervous wreck since Trent’s call that Zayne was hurt. Tia got me to the hospital in time but when the doors opened and they wheeled Zayne in, I could no longer breathe. Just watching them rush him off for emergency surgery, shredded my control and the tears poured, blinding me to Trent’s embrace and Tia’s calming words.
“Here, drink this.” I looked up into those serene blues filled tenderness. “Please, sweetheart,” Trent coaxed.
I took the bottle of orange juice and slowly sipped. The cold liquid did nothing for my calm but sated the burning dryness in my mouth.
“He’s going to be fine.” He took one of my hands in his and brought it to his lips.
“What did the surgeon say?” I’d been too nervous to sit still when they were chatting earlier. Then, too, I’d also blocked out the conversation, not wanting to hear.
“Gunshot to the abdomen and a punctured lung. Zayne lost a lot of blood but the surgeon’s confident he’ll survive.” Trent stood and pulled me up. He guided me to the couch at the back, sat, and patted the seat. “Come on, you need to get some sleep.”
I dropped down next to him and put my head in his lap. The soft caress of his hand through my hair pulled me under. My eyes fluttered open to blinding fluorescent lights. Squinting, I turned slightly. His eyes closed and head against the backrest, Trent slept with my head still on his lap. I sat up and he moved but didn’t wake. My throat was so dry it felt like I’d swallowed shards of glass. Rising, I made my way to the bathroom. When I returned, the nurse we’d met on arrival came through a door and smiled.
“He’s out of surgery,” she whispered.
My heart jumped. Excitement stealing my breath. “Can I see him?”
She nodded and gestured for me to follow her through another door. A few minutes later, I stared through a window at Zayne.
“He’s sedated but once he comes around, you can go in.” She patted my arm.
I had no idea how long I stayed outside his window pacing until I feared I’d wear a hole in my shoe when a familiar sound filled my ears. No. I’d been in a hospital long enough to recognize it. Code blue! My pulse soared. Startled, I watched as nurses and doctors hurried past me. I followed them. Silently I prayed. Not that room. Please. I froze. My mind switching to code blue, my heartbeat matching the cadence of the resounding alarm through the hallway. Then they were dashing into Zayne’s room.
Adrenalin pushed fear into me. I clenched the front of my dress in my fist. “No,” it came out as a whisper. Then another much louder scream, “No!” “I grabbed one of the nurse's arms as she flew by. “What’s happening.”
“Cardiac arrest,” she called over her shoulder, ducking into Zayne’s room.
I tried following but another nurse barred me from entering. Moving to the window looking into his room, I balked. Nurses and doctors crowded his bed.
“Please, please, please,” the incessant prayer filled my ears as my clenched fists pounded the glass. Pinpricks of heat stabbed my skin. Sweat pooled in my arms, beaded my upper lid and brow. “Don’t you leave me, Zayne,” I mouthed over and over.
I had no idea how long I stood there when I felt Trent’s arms snake around me. I spun around and the warmth of his embrace closed around me, shielding me, offering me protection, comfort. Tears burned down my cheeks, searing my skin with pain. Several minutes passed and calm begrudgingly settled over the ward, he sat me down on a chair.
“Wait here, I’m going to get an update, okay?” he lifted my chin to look at him. “Okay, sweetheart.”
I nodded, staring into eyes filled with tenderness. My body was ready to drop from exhaustion, looking at Trent, I could tell he was dead on his feet. This was taking its toll on him too. I covered his hand. “Thank you for being here.”
“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” With that, he went after the nurse who’d brought me to Zayne’s room.
Fifteen minutes later, I walked into Zayne’s room. I stood taking in everything. I heard the soft beep of the heart monitor, the melancholy drone of the ventilator, the muted buzz of the air-conditioning, and finally the soft breaths of a man I loved. I clasped my neck, telling myself to breathe, to clear my vision of tears so that I could see him. I blinked, letting the final pool fall.
Eyes, red and puffy, stared up at me, his breathing labored. His expression nothing like the austere man I knew. “Hi,” he whispered.
I balked, my insides on a crazy rollercoaster I couldn’t stop even though I held the controls. This man owned a piece of my heart and he was taking it with him. I swallowed and covered his hand with mine, gently squeezing. “Don’t you dare leave me,” words finally came.
