Page 76 of Whispers and Wildfire
Kyle was already driving away before I made it through the automatic doors. At least someone had been willing to get me to a hospital. I figured I should be grateful for that much.
I staggered to the front desk, and the receptionist raised her eyebrows.
“You need to be seen,” she said. It wasn’t a question.
“Yeah. I wrecked my car.”
To the hospital’s credit, they didn’t make me stand thereto check in or sit in the lobby for an eternity. A nurse brought out a wheelchair and took me back to a curtained-off room. Someone else came in and got my information while the nurse took my vitals.
I didn’t lie, exactly. But I didn’t tell them the truth about the race, either. Just that I’d been driving too fast on some backroads and wrecked. A friend had dropped me off.
Since there was concern about internal bleeding, everyone worked fast. I was in too much pain to track what was going on. Medical staff swarmed around me, and as I lay there, a horrifying thought took root in my mind.
What if I didn’t make it?
I squinted at the harsh lights above me. This wasn’t how I wanted to go. I hadn’t done half the things I’d wanted to do with my life. Sure, I’d built a successful business, and that was great. But lying there, contemplating my own mortality, that sort of thing didn’t seem to matter. Not the money, the stability, the accomplishments, the awards I’d won. Who cared if I could restore an old car?
Instead, I thought about the people in my life—the people I might be about to leave behind. My parents. My brothers. My nieces and nephews. I wanted to watch them grow up.
They were what mattered.
And I thought about Melanie. As they wheeled in an ultrasound machine and discussed whether I needed emergency surgery, I thought about her.
Why? I had no idea, any more than I knew why I’d thought about calling her on the way to the hospital.
But she was there, at the forefront of my mind. What if I died and she married Hank? I couldn’t let that happen. Urgency gripped me. I wanted to jump out of bed and find my phone. Call her and tell her to break up with him. Whatever else she did, she couldn’t stay with Hank.
I’d been wearing my helmet, but I kind of wondered if Ihad a head injury. Why did I care so much about who Melanie dated?
It’s hard to keep deluding yourself when you think you might be dying. I knew exactly why I cared so much. Because I cared about her.
I always had.
Finally, the flurry of activity around me slowed. One nurse and the doctor remained. I blinked, my attention coming back to the room.
“I have good news and not-so-good news,” the doctor said. “The good news is, there’s no evidence of internal bleeding.”
“What’s the not-so-good news?”
“You probably have bruised ribs. There might be a small fracture or two, but the treatment is the same. Which is to say, you mostly have to wait for them to heal.”
“So I’m not dying?”
“No, you’re not dying. But you’re going to be in a fair amount of pain for a while.”
I closed my eyes in relief. I wasn’t going to die. That was good news.
But it also meant I would have to face the truth about Melanie. I kept trying to hate her, but I didn’t. Not at all.
In fact, it might have been the opposite.
The doctor had more to say, but it was hard to focus. They wanted to keep me there for a few hours for observation. Then they’d release me to go home.
The nurse gave me something for the pain and helped get me into a position that was relatively comfortable. I spent the next several hours in and out of sleep, dimly aware of the nurses coming in to check on me. Eventually, they decided I could be released.
Which brought up another problem. How was I going to get home?
It was five in the morning, and whoever I called, I was going to have to tell them the truth.
