I’ll take Chance’s advice.
Be patient.
Be persistent.
And never give up.
Nothing will stand in my way of having the one thing that has made me feel the closest to whole again. I only wish I’d seen the light before I kicked her out and fucked everything up.
Emma’s so lost in her own thoughts she doesn’t even realize we’ve arrived.
“Em, we’re here,” I say.
I can see the fear in her eyes as she turns her head toward the hospital. She swallows hard before jerking her hand from mine and removing her seat belt.
The driver takes our bags out of the trunk, and I reach for hers, but she snags it before I get the chance. At least it frees up one of my hands so I can hold hers. That’s a positive.
Emma starts moving toward the entry, and I have to jog a few steps to catch up.
Reaching for her hand, I entwine our fingers together before she has a chance to pull away. I can feel her trembling, so I tighten my grip.
“I’ve got you,” is all I say. As hard as it is for me to see her in this position, I’m thankful she’s not going through it alone.
I’m sitting on an uncomfortable vinyl chair in the corner of the tiny room we were stuffed in, watching Emma pace back and forth, her dainty fingers knotting by her sides. She’s consumed with worry for good reason, but if she doesn’t stop pacing, she’ll wear out the linoleum floor. We’ve been here for almost two hours and still no word.
No news is good news.
That means he’s still alive.
I catch her on her next pass, pulling her onto my lap.
“Ashton,” she says, squirming. The movement gives me a semi. Inappropriate timing, I know, but she affects me in so many ways. “I can feel that, and you’re disgusting.”
I rest my forehead on her back and chuckle. “I’m sorry. You were moving around on my lap and—”
“Whatever,” she says, cutting me off. “Let me up.”
“No. All the pacing in the world isn’t going to get us news faster. Let me help by distracting you.”
“You’re delusional if you think I’m going to have public sex with you in this hospital… or sex with you, period, for that matter. Been there, done that, and it’s nothing I’d like to repeat.”
I chuckle again. “I meant to talk, sweet-thing. It might help the time go quicker.”
“I have nothing to discuss with you,” she says, removing my arms from around her waist and standing.
“Well, I have plenty to say to you.”
Emma blows out a puff of air, smoothing the palms of her hands over her hair. “Can it wait, please? I have enough on my mind at the moment.”
“On one condition… you come and sit. All that back and forth is making me antsy.” I tap the seat beside me instead of my lap. I don’t want to push my luck.
“Fine.”
“Thank you.”
She flops onto the chair.
“Did you mean it when you said you wanted me to jump out of the plane?”
I see a smile tug at her lips. “Yes, maybe… I don’t know.” Her eyes meet mine. “I’m not completely heartless. I said with a parachute strapped to your back… I wasn’t suggesting freefall.”
We both laugh.
I grab her hand, bringing it to my mouth, my lips grazing her knuckles. “He’s going to be okay, Em.”
“I hope so,” is all she says.
We sit in silence for the next half hour, my hand still wrapped around hers. But, when the door opens and a man dressed in light blue scrubs steps into the room, she tugs her hand from mine and springs out of her chair.
The doctor, I presume, and he’s a lot younger than I anticipated.
“How is he?” she blurts out.
A small grin forms on his lips as his eyes travel down to her tits before coming back to her face. It immediately gets my back up. “He’s doing remarkably well, considering.”
“Thank God,” she says, throwing her arms around him. As soon as she realizes what she’s done, she steps back, her face turning bright red. “I mean… um, thank you… I’m sure God played a hand it, but…”
He chuckles, and I stand.
“I’m Dr. Stevenson.” He gives her a full smile, extending his hand to her. “But you can call me Adam if you like.”
The hell she can.
“Emma. Emma Phoenix. I’m the daughter.”
“And I’m Ashton,” I say, stepping forward. “The boyfriend.” I arch an eyebrow letting him know she’s mine.
“Right,” he says, clearing his throat.
My eyes dart to Emma, and she gives me a look that says she’ll deal with me later.
“Take a seat.”
I sit first, pulling Emma onto my lap. She doesn’t flinch, but when I wrap my arms tightly around her waist to hold her in place, she puts one of her hands over mine, slyly pinching it. I bite my lip to suppress my laugh.
His gaze darts between the two of us, and I pin him down with a glare. “Obviously, you know your father had a heart attack,” he says, his eyes now solely trained on her.
“Yes.”
“The artery supplying his heart with blood and oxygen became blocked. Fatty deposits built up over time forming plaque within the walls. If the plaque ruptures, a blood clot can form and cause a blockage resulting in a heart attack. In your father’s case, the coronary arteries became so narrowed we had to perform bypass surgery. The blockages were too severe to be managed with medication or other treatments.”
“I see,” Emma says. “And it was a success?”
“Yes.”
“So, his heart is okay now?”
“Part of his heart was injured by the attack, but the rest of the heart is still functioning properly. Because of the damage, though, it’s become weakened and unable to pump as much blood as usual.”
“Oh. Will that affect his quality of life going forward?”
“It’s going to take some time. He’ll be lethargic in the weeks and months to follow, but with proper treatment and lifestyle changes, further damage can be limited or prevented. If he can get through the next few days without any complications, I’m confident he’ll be able to return to a relatively normal life going forward.”
“The next few days?”
“Your father had major heart surgery, Miss Phoenix. There are always risks following these types of procedures. He’ll be closely monitored in ICU for the next twenty-four hours, and once he’s stabilized, he’ll be moved to the cardiothoracic unit for further treatment.”
“Can I see him?” she asks.
“Of course.”
“He’ll be in recovery for another half hour or so, but once he’s moved to intensive care, I’ll have the nurse take you in.”
“Thank you.”
I stand, extending my hand to him, squeezing it a tad harder than necessary. “Thank you for everything, doc.” I’m not a complete asshole, he did save her father’s life.
Emma’s eyes dart to me.
“You’re welcome,” he says, clearing his throat.
He turns, leaving us alone, and the moment the door closes behind him, Emma collapses into my arms. My hand strokes her hair soothingly, and she softly cries into my chest. They’re tears of relief and helplessness. He’s not out of the woods yet.