I know now that Theo was merely a fixation, a crush, a craze. It wasn’t ever love that I felt for him. No. This is love. Only love can make you feel this absolutely terrified. Only love has the power to gut you completely like this.
Theo is great. But Jared … Jared is special. And he’s mine. Well, he was anyway. Now, our fate is hanging by a thread.
At lunchtime the next day, the doctors discharge Theo, and Kenneth and Deborah leave to take him home. Kenneth vows he’ll be back soon, but I tell him to take his time, have a nap, catch a shower, and I promise to call them if anything happens. He looks exhausted and is no good to anyone, sitting here, just waiting.
I’m left sitting by the bed on my own, chewing on my nails and picking at a loose thread on the sleeve of Heather’s jumper. My routine is stilted and repetitive. I can’t bring myself to leave, even to go down to the food court to eat even though my tummy rumbles so loudly that it’s almost embarrassing. So, I just sit in the uncomfortable chair, stand, walk around the bed, look out of the window at the roof of another part of the hospital, read the posters on the wall, watch the nurse do their checks. Sit, stand, repeat. My gaze never strays long from the heart monitor, watching the numbers and the rhythm, checking it’s still working and he’s still fighting.
A little while later, a porter and a nurse come in to collect Jared. They’re taking him to get a couple of scans to see how he’s doing, and once they have everything back in a couple of hours, they’ll make a judgement if he can start coming off the machines. The nurse refuses to let me accompany him and assures me they’ll be gone at least half an hour, so when they leave, wheeling him off on the bed, I dash to the concourse, stuff a Burger King down my neck in just a few short bites, and call Deborah, my mum, and Heather to give them an update before heading back upstairs. I’m back in the ward, waiting, before he is.
An hour later, the doctor comes in and gives me good news. The scans look clear, there’s no build-up of fluid around his heart, and he’s doing really well. The X-ray on his head shows no bleeding on the brain. They are ready to start taking him off the machines.
They remove the ventilator and tube from his throat, seeming very pleased with how he responds. The nurse, Kelly, sits in with me for half an hour, keeping an eye on his blood saturation and pressure. She chats away about Christmas and her plans she has with her boyfriend, seeming completely unaware that she’s slowly killing me inside because my boyfriend was so close to death just a few hours ago and I have yet to see his beautiful eyes open.
My gaze stays focused on Jared, and when Kelly leaves a little while later, satisfied that he’s stable, I sit forward in my chair and clasp my hands together under my chin, watching for any signs of movement. They took him off the sedative drip. It is now just a matter of time.
When his finger flutters a full two hours after they stopped the drip, my eyes widen, and I jump to my feet, looking down at him expectantly. He squeezes his eyes shut before they blink open, and relief washes over me in droves.
Those eyes, those beautiful brown eyes, flit to me, and I feel the hair on the back of my neck prickle as the tension loosens in my shoulders.
“Hi,” he croaks, his voice husky from the tube that was lodged in his throat for hours.
“Hi.” I smile, my eyes filling with relieved tears.
He reaches up towards his head, so I catch his hand and shake my head.
“Careful. Don’t move, okay?” I reach for the call button and press it.
His eyebrows pull together in a frown as he looks around, clearly confused. “Shit. What happened?” His voice is sore-sounding and cracked.
“You were in a car accident. You’re okay. You’re pretty banged up though, so you need to be careful. Stay still. The doctor will come in a minute. We’ve been waiting for you to wake up.”
He blinks rapidly. I see his lips silently repeat the words car accident as his frown deepens. Suddenly, his eyes widen. “Oh shit. Theo? Is Theo okay?”
I can see the panic building in his eyes and hear it in the hasty beat of his heart on the monitor as he turns his head, trying to see his brother.
I put my hand on the side of his face and lean over the bed more, trying to quell his panic and keep him still before he hurts himself. “He’s fine, I promise. He has a broken leg and some other minor stuff. They’ve sent him home already.”
His gaze comes back to mine, and I can see the question there.
I force a smile. “He’s fine, Jared, I promise. He’s home now. Your parents took him home; that’s why they’re not here.” I softly stroke his face, and the curtain is yanked to the side behind me.
I step back and look over my shoulder as the nurse who’s been checking on him steps in and looks from me to Jared.
Her mouth pulls into a warm smile. “Oh great, you’re awake!” She’s so cheerful that I feel a grin slip onto my face too. “How are you feeling?” She steps to his side, looking down at him, pulling out her penlight, checking the reactions of his eyes again for the hundredth time.
Jared goes to answer, but his throat cracks, and he coughs instead.
She smiles sympathetically and reaches for the jug of water, pouring a glass and popping a straw into it. “I know; your throat is sore. It’s from the tubes. It’ll ease off soon. Here.” She offers him the straw, and he takes a couple of pulls on it, his eyes moving from her to me and back again, as if he’s checking I’m not leaving.
He sighs and pulls his head back. “Thanks.”
When he reaches up to wipe his face, I wince and watch as he touches the bandages around his head, his eyebrows pinching in bewilderment.
“So, my name’s Kelly. I’ve been looking after you today,” the nurse says. “I’m glad you’ve finally woken. You gave everyone quite a scare.”
Understatement of the century.
She checks his blood pressure, writing down details from the heart monitor, and takes his temperature. “How’s your pain? You’ve not long had a dose, but I can give you a top-up on your pain meds if you need some?”
Jared shakes his head. “No, it’s okay. It’s not too bad. What happened?” His hand moves to his chest, feeling the bandages there too.
“The car accident caused some damage to your heart. We had to take you into surgery and fix you up,” she answers.
I notice she’s not giving him many details, likely trying to keep him calm and still.
“Heart surgery?” Jared repeats, his eyes flicking to me.
I press my lips together and nod.
“We’ll have you good as new in no time. Just try not to move too much, all right? I’ll let the doctor know you’re awake, and she’ll come down and have a chat with you, answer any questions you might have.” She steps back and puts her hand on my shoulder, giving it a supportive squeeze.
When she leaves, I move back up next to Jared’s head and smile down at him. My hands wander over to him, one on his neck, the other on his forearm—two of the few places left on him where he has no scratches and bruises. I revel in the warmth of his skin. His hand closes over mine, and our eyes lock.
“You scared me. Don’t ever do that to me again as long as we both live, okay? Promise me,” I say sternly. I don’t think I’d live through anything like this again.