“Why is he on a ventilator?” I ask as I turn to the nurse.
She glances at Piper.
“This is Durango’s wife,” Piper says.
The nurse nods. “I’ll get the doctor.”
She leaves us alone, and I turn back to Durango. “You were supposed to be on a quick assignment. You promised to take me to a Yankees game.”
He doesn’t respond. Not that I expect him to. I’ve never seen him this broken. All I want to do is wrap my arms around him and keep him safe.
“Mrs. Myers?”
“Willow?” Piper calls.
I turn and spot a doctor standing on the other side of the bed. “Yes,” I ask.
“I’m Doctor Jenkins.” He glances at Durango.
I turn my attention fully to the doctor. “Why is he on a ventilator?”
“We had to sedate him heavily. There was trauma to his brain from his fall. Mr. Myers also has broken many bones in his arm, leg, and ribs. There were lacerations on his kidney and gallbladder, and one of his lungs was punctured. We still don’t know the full scope of his head injuries. Miraculously, he had no spinal injuries. The man is lucky to be alive. According to a police report, two men saw him go over the falls along with a shed and a decent-sized tree.”
I lean back into the chair to brace myself.
Piper is next to me with her arm around my shoulders. “Willow, broken bones will heal,” she says.
I nod. “When will he wake up?”
“We hope this afternoon. But there is a possibility he never wakes up. You need to prepare yourself for that.” The doctor grabs his phone out of his pocket and stares at it. “Sorry, but I need to go.”
Never wake up? Tears fall down my cheeks. He has to wake up!
Piper sighs. “That doctor doesn’t have a good bedside manner, but I researched him, and apparently, he’s good.”
I stare at Durango, who is barely recognizable right now, and I kick myself for putting him off. After he had time to deal with everything I told him, he made it clear he wants us to try to date. And for all that time, I have kept him at arm’s length and kept him in the dark about all that happened to me. I haven’t even told him that I started therapy.
And now, if Durango dies… No. He can’t die. He can’t. Not after we found each other again.
“Durango,” I say as I wrap my fingers around his hand. “Please wake up.”
He doesn’t move. His eyes remain closed, and there’s no squeeze of my hand. Nothing.
“Were you able to sleep on the flight?” Piper asks.
When Piper told me what was going on yesterday, I booked the first flight to Seattle. It was a red eye. “No.” And I couldn’t.
My mind raced with what could be wrong. Piper had simply said Durango was in the ICU and I should come.
“Willow, there’s a blanket on the window seat. Why don’t you try to get some rest?” Piper suggests.
I glance over and spot a folded blanket and pillow on a cushion next to the window. But now that she mentions it, I am exhausted.
“It’s going to be hours before he might wake up. Grab a nap while you can,” Piper says as she settles into a chair on the other side of the bed.
“Thank you. I think I will.” I get settled on the window seat, and despite it not being very comfortable, I manage to fall asleep.
“She just got in a few hours ago.”
