“You know I can’t tell you anything other than he’s here and asking for you.” She stresses the word asking. He’s awake and able to speak. That has to be a good thing. Please let it be a good thing.
“I’ll be right down.” I lock my computer but don’t bother with anything else in my office. I let the office assistant know that I won’t be back today.Please let him be okay.After all these years and all the work it took to find each other, I can’t imagine a world where we’re apart again. I barely hear anything as I take the elevator and find my way to the emergency department. I need to see him and touch him. Fuck, I’ve been trying to tell him how much he means to me for weeks now. What if I don’t get the chance?
I try to look calm as I walk up to the front desk. “I’m here for Nathan Winslow. I got a call that he was here.” My voice shakes as I talk to the woman at the front desk. I hope she doesn’t ask about my relationship with Nathan. Can I lie and pretend he’s my husband? Probably. But since I work here, that could get complicated. Maybe I can call in some favors? I grip the counter to keep myself steady while she stares at her computer.
“Name?”
“Colt Addington.” I hold up my badge in case it buys me some extra credibility.
“You’re on his list. He’s in room five. You can go on back.” She nods her head down the hallway.
I can’t decide if I’m moving too fast or too slow. I’m trying to make myself seem put together, but without any information, I have no idea what I’m walking into. My mind is dreaming up all sorts of worst-case scenarios. I keep reminding myself that he’s awake and talking.
I find the room with the curtain drawn across the door. “Nathan?” I manage to croak out as I pull the curtain aside. I spot him, eyes closed on the bed. His skin is pale.
“Hey.” He sits up a bit in the bed and straightens out the blanket.
“What happened?” I take his hand and look him over. There’s dried blood on the side of his neck, but the rest of him looks okay.
“I don’t know,” Nathan says, his hoarse voice barely above a whisper.
I grab the chair and pull it over close to his bed. Reaching over, I grab his hand again and pull it close. I need to be touching him. “What do you mean you don’t know?” The adrenaline is wearing off slowly now that I’m here.
He’s okay. We’re okay.
“I was at work trying to get through the list for the fundraiser and started feeling weird. The next thing I know, I was lying on the ground with a bunch of people around me, and they’d called an ambulance.” He closes his eyes and swallows hard. “They said I passed out. I guess I hit my head on the edge of a filing cabinet and got a nice gash.” He tentatively reaches for a spot on the back of his head but pulls his hand away.
I knew why. He’d been working himself to death these last few months. I’m guessing he hadn’t eaten anything today, either. I’d left early for work this morning, or I would’ve forced him to eat breakfast like I did yesterday. “Okay. I’m sure we’ll work it out. Rest right now.” I lean down and kiss his temple. He leans into me and closes his eyes. Seeing him in this hospital bed is killing me. I want to crawl into the bed beside him and hold him close.
“Will you stay?” Nathan whispers.
Would I stay? They’d have to drag me out of here kicking and screaming. “Of course. I’ll be right here.” He hums but lets his eyes drift close again. It’s overwhelming being here like this. The wordsI love youare on the tip of my tongue. I have to bite my lip to keep them from spilling out. This isn’t the right time or place.
My eyes never leave his face until the doctor comes into the room.
“Dr. Andrews,” he said, sticking his hand to me.
“Colt.” I shake his hand and nudge Nathan. He opens his eyes, but they’re glassy and won’t focus.
“He might be like that for a while. He was a little agitated and in pain from his wound, so we gave him some meds to help him relax.”
“Is he going to be okay?”
“He should be fine, but he does need to work on taking care of himself. Nathan probably passed out from low blood sugar from not eating. He should follow up with his primary physician,but the stitches will need to stay in for ten to fourteen days to make sure it heals up okay.”
“When can he go home?” My shoulders relax for the first time since that phone call.
He’s okay.
“We’ll get his paperwork together, and as soon as it gets processed, you can take him home. Someone does need to stay with him tonight, just to be safe. He doesn’t appear to have a concussion, but if he starts showing signs of confusion, you should bring him back right away.”
“No problem.” There’s no way I’d leave him alone right now anyway.
“He’ll probably sleep a lot because of the medication. Otherwise, if you can get him to eat something or drink some water, that would be good.” He turns back toward Nathan. “As long as you slow down and care for yourself, I don’t expect to see you back anytime soon.”
“Thanks,” Nathan and I say at the same time.
We wait another hour before they discharge him. I run to the employee garage and pull my car around to the patient pick-up area in front of the Emergency Department. The parking enforcement people there don’t look happy with my plea to leave the car for a minute while I get Nathan, but they don’t tell me no.
