They know what’s coming. I’ll fucking kill all of them for this.
“How the fuck did Romero get into the house? You had one fucking job! To keep the place secure, and make sure no one got in. Find him!”
They disappear, dispersing in different directions as they start searching the house. I let the sounds around me fall away, the entire world disappears around us.
If there is no Elena, there is no me, and I realize that now.
Holding Elena’s hand, I stroke her hair gently, afraid even that will hurt her. I have to do something, anything to make myself feel a little less helpless.
Seconds turn into minutes, and it feels like an eternity until the ambulance gets here. A buzzing fills my ears as the front doors burst open, and three EMTs come rushing to her side. I make space for them by moving out of the way, even though everything inside me tells me to keep holding her hand.
They work over her, their hands moving fast, and every move is precise as they carefully slip on a neck brace and slide the gurney beneath her. They ask me questions in between, and I answer each one like a zombie.
I follow them out as they carry her outside and rush her into the back of the ambulance. For a brief second, I consider getting into the ambulance with them but know I’ll only be in the way. My feelings and fear are the least important things right now. I need to make sure Elena is okay, that she is still with me, and that she will make it through this.
Getting into my car, I pull behind the ambulance and follow them to the hospital. With light and sirens, they fly through the streets, and I stay close behind. When I pictured our wedding day, I never expected it to be over before it even started.
Clenching the wheel tighter, there is only one thought running through my mind, like a cassette on replay as I stare at the back of the ambulance.
Please, don’t let her die.Since the moment they rolled her back into this room, I haven’t taken my eyes off her. They ran every test I demanded them to run, but even I couldn’t make the MRI machine work fast enough. Now, I sit beside her, watching... waiting for her to wake, for the doctor to return with the test results. All of this is out of my hands, and I feel like a plane spiraling out of control, nosediving into the ground.
Forcing my thoughts to slow, I look down at Elena’s unmoving form. She looks peaceful, her face relaxed, and her head slightly turned into the pillow as if she’s simply sleeping. I wish it was mere sleep she was experiencing and that there wasn’t a risk I could lose her. The thought leaves a fist-sized hole in my chest.
A quiet knock filters through the door that has me tearing my eyes away from her still body. The door opens, and the doctor steps in, his movements are cautious. He’s an older guy with graying hair and dark eyes. Apparently, he’s the best the hospital has, and he better hope so.
“Mr. Moretti, I’ve got your fiancée’s test results,” he explains. “I’m happy to tell you, her MRI came back good, considering the tumble she took. There are only minor injuries. Her right ankle is twisted badly. We’ll keep the foot raised and put a brace on it for a few weeks. Her left ribs are bruised, so we recommend that you keep them wrapped and iced to help with the swelling, aside from that, there is not much more we can do for her.
Her head looks good. No bleeding or swelling in the brain, she does have a concussion, which is to be expected. Again, that is something that will heal with time. It’s like a very bad headache. I’m recommending she stay here for observation for at least one more day.”
“But she’ll be fine? Make a full recovery?” The words rush past my lips.
“Yes, she should be completely back to normal in a few weeks,” he confirms, and I suck a deep breath in, oxygen fills my lungs, for what feels like the first time today. “We’ll keep her on IV pain medication while she is here, and of course, send some home with you as well. Her body will heal on its own, but she will be in a good amount of pain for the first week.”
A deep primal possession rips through me. I’ll take care of her. Make sure she only moves if she needs to. She will be taken care of, and her father will pay for hurting her.
“She has all the time in the world to recover,” I say, a little gruffer than necessary.
He merely nods and walks out of the room. I return my full attention to the angel in front of me. I stare, my gaze burning into her face. All I want is for her to wake up, for her to be okay. I know the doctor said everything is going to be okay, but I can’t believe that until she’s awake.