Eventually, Donna wiped her face and stood. “Come. We’ve cried enough.” She pulled Ellie with her as she explained to the nurse that Ellie was Josh’s fiancée.
They made their way into his room hand in hand. It was so white. So cold. And Josh looked so fragile, so alone.
He had a drip in his arm, a feeding tube taped to his face and inserted into his nose. He was so pale, the bruises under his eyes so dark, that it almost took her to her knees. But it was her turn to hold on to Donna, to support her as they made their way closer.
And she did it. One aching step, one wavering breath at a time, they held each other. And when they sat beside Josh, they sat together, the three of them.
An hour later, a nurse came to tell her that Victoria was out of surgery. Donna and Liam promised to stay with Josh—and callher if there was any change—so she made her way down to the women’s ward and waited for Vic.
She called the vet, who assured her that Nissy would be fine and even let her FaceTime to tell Nissy how much she loved her. It looked like Warren had kicked her, but with time and care, she would be okay.
Vic came back with a nurse who explained that the cut in her neck was shallow enough that they could clean and stitch the wound closed without major surgery. Warren had missed her artery and her esophagus. Thank God. But the trauma would be another question.
Ellie sat quietly as Vic came out of the anesthetic, offering her ice chips when she needed them.
“Ellie,” Vic croaked eventually, “I have to tell you how sorry I am. I have to tell you?—”
Ellie shushed her. “Please don’t be sorry. It was all Warren. All of it.” She pressed a kiss to her friend’s forehead. “I only wish I’d realized just how bad things were for you.”
Vic shook her head gingerly, wincing as the moment tugged her wound. “I wouldn’t have listened. I—” She looked away. “I wanted him to love me.”
God. Ellie hadn’t realized it was possible to hurt any more that day than she already had. But it was. “I know you did,” she whispered. “That’s okay.”
“It’s not okay,” Vic rasped, her eyes heavy with exhaustion and red from crying.
“It will be,” Ellie replied, stroking her hair. “We all want to be loved, Vic. It’s going to take time, but Warren’s gone now. And we can do it together.”
“How’s Josh?” Vic asked carefully. “Is he… okay?”
Ellie tried to smile, but all it did was make her tears spill over. “His heart stopped when the knife…” She swiped at her eyes withher sleeve. “They got him back. But he’s still in a coma. There’s no change.”
Vic leaned against the raised back of the hospital bed and closed her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“No more apologies,” Ellie whispered. “Focus on getting better.” She pulled up a blanket and tucked it carefully around Vic’s shoulders and then sat with her until her mother bustled in and took over, crying dramatically and demanding to see her baby.
Victoria looked more horrified about her mum’s theatrics than the news that she would have to stay for a night to make sure there were no complications—but it was the first spark Ellie had seen in her friend, and it gave her hope.
She hugged Vic gently and promised to come back in the morning—or sooner if Vic needed her. Neither of them mentioned that her own father hadn’t come at all.
It stung, but in a strange way, it didn’t hurt as much as before. Ellie didn’t need Steven’s approval. She was creating a new family. A family who loved and supported each other, even when things were bad.
She gave Vic one last careful squeeze and made her way back up to Josh’s room. Donna and Liam were where she’d left them. She settled in between them and took Josh’s hand.
They didn’t talk. There was nothing to say. But just being there, together, was enough.
The sun set, and Donna and Liam got ready to leave, but Ellie couldn’t do it. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe next week, she would have the strength, but not yet. Liam took her keys and promised to see what he could do to clean up at her house, and she thanked him gratefully. And then she pulled the plastic chair close to Josh’s bed and told him stories—about her life, about the future she wanted, about the future they could have—but he didn’t stir.
She reminded him of the owls, mated for life, creating a home just outside their window. But he stayed just as still as ever.
She threaded her fingers through his and leaned her forehead against their clasped hands and told him the story of the orcs she was going to write into a game. With a brooding orc rebel who climbed the ranks young, trusting no-one, and the witch who escaped with him from the cruel king’s dungeons. How they fell in love, and their love was powerful and true. How their love was enough to save them.
But he didn’t wake.
She kissed his hand, whispering, “It’s you, Josh. It’s you I love.” But he never moved.
And then she put her head down and wept, her tears soaking the crisp hospital sheet.
There was no work she could do. No effort she could make. No way to save him. But she didn’t let him go. Even when she closed her eyes and finally drifted into a strange and shadowed sleep. She held on.
