“Yes, and that’s all I can tell you for now. You’ll need to wait for his doctor for more information.” She points down the hall. “There’s a waiting room around the corner. We have coffee and vending machines in case you get hungry.”
She looks back at her computer, dismissing us, and I know if I don’t get Summer out of here soon, she might explode.
“Come on,” I say to her, tugging on her arm. “Let’s go sit. Hopefully his doctor will be out soon.”
Summer glares at Drea, and I almost feel bad for her. But I’m too busy being worried about Summer to truly care.
We make our way to the waiting room, and the first thing I notice is the quietness. It’s almost eerie. There are several people spread around and plenty of empty seats. We take two near the back.
For a while we just sit there. Summer stares at nothing in particular, and I stare at her.
The urge to reach over and hold her is so fucking strong, but I don’t. I’m not sure what she needs right now, but I’m waiting for her to tell me.
“Do you want anything to drink?” I ask her after thirty minutes have gone by.
She shakes her head.
I rise from the chair and make my way to the vending machine and pay far too much for a bottle of water. When I peek back over at her, she’s still staring blankly, and I can only imagine the thoughts racing through her mind. I’m sure they’re the same going through mine.
Is her father going to be okay? Will he survive this? Will he ever be the same if he does? How fucking long is this surgery going to take?
I grab the water from the dispenser, crack it open, and gulp it down. I refill it from the water fountain, then resume my spot next to Summer.
She moves for the first time since sitting down, and it’s to slump back in her seat.
She’s tired and defeated, and I don’t blame her one bit.
Her head falls into her hands, and I know instantly she’s crying. Her shoulders shake, her little whimpers ringing in my ears, and it fucking hurts. Seeing her like this, going through this. It’s literally making my chest ache.
I press on it, trying to suppress the feelings, but it’s useless.
So, instead, I turn to her and rub her back.
“He’ll be okay,” I say softly. “He’s Sheriff Turner, for crying out loud. There’s no way he won’t be all right. Besides, if he’s not okay, then who the hell is going to yell at me for speeding, huh?”
“Deputy Jenkins.”
“Fucking Jenkins.”
She laughs lightly, but it turns into more sobs just as quickly as it comes, and I have to close my eyes. Seeing her like this is too hard.
She eventually falls over into me, her head practically in my lap. I let her stay like that, running my fingers through her hair, wanting so desperately to wipe away her tears, but I don’t.
One hour goes by, then two.
From the window, I can see that the sun is beginning to peek through the Cascades. The colors streaking through the sky are objectively gorgeous, but nothing feels pretty in this moment. Not with Summer lying in my lap, her heart breaking into tinier pieces by the second.
We’re nearing three hours when a new face finally steps through the doors.
I look up immediately, but Summer stays where she is. I feel her slipping, losing hope, and I wish I could give her all of mine.
“Summer Rawlings?”
My heart stutters, doing a goddamn somersault right in my chest cavity.
Fuck, that sounds good. Too good.
“That’s me.”
