Chapter 30
Finally, after what feels like hours, and for all I know, it has been several hours, a doctor comes through the swinging doors. The receptionist behind the desk points him in my direction. “Rachel Reese?”
“Yes,” I step forward immediately. “Is he okay?”
“He’s stable,” the doctor says, his voice reassuring. “He’s got a severe leg injury, and we aren’t sure of the extent yet. He will be here for a few days. After a few more tests, we will have a more concrete plan in place. We’re moving him to a room now, and you can go in and see him.”
A deep breath rushes out of me, and I nod, relief flooding through me. “Thank you.”
“I’ll be back to check on Mr. Samuels in a few hours,” the doctor says before disappearing down the hall.
Someone in scrubs leads me through sterile hallways that all look the same. After one painfully quiet elevator ride and another long corridor, we reach his room. Oren lies there, unconscious but breathing steadily, his leg elevated, wrapped tightly in bandages, and covered in a mountain of ice packs. I take a seat beside his bed, my heart aching as I look at him. I lean back against the uncomfortable chair, setting Lily up against my chest. I rock her softly, hoping that she will fall asleep quickly. I keep a watchful eye on the man who looks so unlike the man I've come to know while whispering softly to Lily, telling her Daddy is going to be okay. Hours pass, and I don’t move.
My phone starts to buzz, the screen flashes Ziggy’s name. She never misses a moment, especially when I really need her. I pick up as soon as I can reach the phone.
“Where the hell are you?” Ziggy’s voice is sharp, but I can hear the concern undercutting it. “Elliot told me about Oren’s hit, and then you didn’t answer my texts. I was about to knock down your door to check on you.”
“I’m sorry…we’re at the hospital,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “Lily and I were at the game. Oh my God, Zig. It’s bad. He’s still unconscious.” Despite trying so hard, my voice cracks at the end.
“Oh, Rachel!” There’s a pause, and then Ziggy’s voice softens. “I’m coming to get Lily. That way you can stay with Oren. Let me help.”
I open my mouth to argue, to tell her I’ve got it under control, but the exhaustion won’t let me pretend. I’m bone-tired. The thought of trying to manage Lily on top of everything else feels impossible right now, and I’m certainly not leaving yet.
“Okay,” I whisper, not bothering to try and disguise my emotions. “That would be really helpful. Thank you.”
“I’ll be there in ten,” Ziggy promises and hangs up.
True to her word, she arrives quickly. Breezing into the hospital room like a tornado, she brought with her the protests from the nurses like a trail in her wake. She scans the room quickly, taking in Oren’s silent figure, Lily is asleep in my arms, and then she looks at me. Just her being here is a major relief, like I’ll be able to manage tonight with her help.
“You look like hell! Sorry, I’m probably not supposed to say that,” she says gently, reaching out to take Lily from my arms. “Here, let me take her.”
I cackle at her reaction; we can blame it on the rollercoaster of emotions. “It’s good to see you too, Ziggy.”
Ziggy cradles her easily, shifting her to her side. “She’s been asleep for a bit,” I say quietly, my voice hoarse. “I think she’ll go down easily once you get her home.”
“No worries,” Ziggy says with a soft smile. “I’ll take your car home so that we don’t have to move the car seat and send Elliot to pick you up.”
I’m not sure if I’m ready to deal with Elliot. So much has happened in such a short 48 hours. The fight, the argument, all of it feeling obsolete at this point. But Ziggy interrupts my thoughts, “Trust me. Just tell me where you parked. Don’t worry about anything. Just text us when you are ready to come home.”
“Uh, somewhere by the ER? Maybe? I honestly don’t remember.” I hand her my keys, overly embarrassed by my lack of recognition. I mumble, “I’ll just get an Uber home, don’t worry about it.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ziggy just shakes her head, already moving toward the door with Lily. “Stay here, take care of Oren, but text us when you are ready to go!”
I nod, watching her slip from the room. Lily is still sound asleep on her shoulder. The weight on my chest eases, knowing Lily is in good hands. The stiff plastic hospital chair does nothing to keep the exhaustion from pulling at me, but sleep isn’t an option. Not now. Not when every time I close my eyes, I hear the impact of the hit or feel the panic that surged as they strapped him to the stretcher.
I never thought about this aspect of Oren’s life. I knew him being part of our lives meant dealing with the risks, with the reality of what being a professional hockey player means. But seeing it? Seeing him laid out like that, nothing could’ve prepared me for this. Since the day Lily was born, I’ve worried about how letting him in would change things. How it disrupts the careful balance I’ve created for us. And after I finally let him in, I always assumed if he left, it would be his doing. Not because of something bad happening to him. I reach up and rub my temples, trying to push away the painful mental images.
I want to keep the images of the impressive man Lily will grow up getting to know, the father I tried to keep her away from, in my mind. Not the bone-deep terror that we might lose him before I’ve gotten the chance to figure out how I feel about him. This isn’t just about Lily anymore. I can’t deny it any longer. He’s become a real part of my life, too. And the thought of him not being here, of not having him around, is frightening.
I look over, watching him again. His bleached curls have started to grow out, their inky roots betraying his natural hair color. A single bunch of curls falls over his forehead, the color of his hair usually a stark contrast to his golden undertones, but not under these harsh hospital lights. Tonight he looks impossibly pale. I lean closer, brushing a strand of hair back, letting my fingers linger just a second too long.
How did everything get so complicated? It feels like tonight will last forever, like I’ve been suspended in this awful limbo of waiting. I don’t know what to do with myself. Sitting feels wrong, but moving makes me feel like I’m in the way. I sit carefully on the edge of the bed next to him, but then I panic. What if I hurt him? What if I mess up the equipment? I hop up just as quickly and start pacing the small room like a caged animal. I glance at Oren, nope, still unconscious. I sit down again, my leg jumping up and down uncontrollably. I lean forward, my elbows on my knees, rub my temples, and let my eyes drift to him again. Then I’m up on my feet, pacing once again. Every few minutes, I search for some sign, some twitch of his fingers or flutter of his eyelids. But nothing. Just stillness.
Somewhere around two, maybe three in the morning, I don’t even know, his eyelids finally flutter. My heart picks up, and I stop dead in my tracks, holding my breath as I watch him. His eyes slowly open, unfocused and groggy, blinking rapidly.
“Oren?” I rush to his side, gripping the handle of the hospital bed, relief flooding through me. “Can you hear me?”
He groans softly, his head turning toward me, eyes bleary and confused. I can see him struggling to piece things together, but it's not quite coming to him.
“I’ll get the nurse,” I whisper, my voice trembling as I press the call button with jittery hands.
Within a minute or less, the nurse comes rushing in, followed by the doctor. They check his vitals, talking to him with a low volume, asking him questions, assessing the status of his condition. I hover by the wall, afraid to leave, and anxious of being in the way.
The doctor glances at me, offering a small reassuring smile. “He’s coming around,” he says, his voice gentle but professional.
I exhale a deep breath, my knees feeling weak and relieved as I lean into the wall behind me. Oren’s groggy eyes flicker between me and the doctor, his brow furrowing slightly.
The doctor turns back to Oren, his tone a little lighter now. “Your fiancée was very worried about you.”
Oh, no. My heartbeat hits a galloping pace in my chest. Blush starts to creep up my chest and neck. Shit! I glance at Oren, ready to fess up that I lied to get back to see him, but there’s a faint glint of amusement in Oren’s tired eyes. He doesn’t correct the doctor, and for self-preservation reasons only, I don’t either.
The softer tone the doctor previously had transitions to one which is way more serious, his expression hardening. “You took a nasty hit tonight. You’ve suffered a bad concussion. We’re going to keep monitoring you through the night to make sure everything stays stable.”
Oren nods slightly, though his movements are sluggish, and I can see the exhaustion all over him.
“Now, about your leg,” the doctor continues. “We believe it’s isolated to your knee. You will need an MRI in the morning to assess the damage. For tonight, though, the best thing you can do is rest. Don’t worry about anything else right now.”
Oren’s jaw tightens at the mention of his leg or his knee, but he doesn’t say anything. I can see the fear starting to creep into his body, the way his hand clenches slightly around the bed sheet. He’s trying to stay calm, but his anxiety, fear, anger, all of it is there, simmering just below the surface.
The doctor pats Oren’s shoulder gently. “Get some rest.”
Rest, right. That’s what Oren needs now. After the doctor leaves, I turn back to Oren, forcing a smile even though my stomach is in knots. “I’m glad you’re awake.”
Oren looks up at me, his eyelids heavy, but deep down, there’s still some of his usual sparkle. “Fiancée, huh?” he says weakly.
I roll my eyes, unable to suppress a small smile. “I had to say something to get past security. Just keep your mouth shut, and don’t blow my cover.”
“Noted,” he mutters, his voice soft.
I watch him, my heart aching, I let out a small sigh. "I have to go home and relieve Ziggy,” I say softly, trying not to disturb him too much. “Take care of Lily."
He barely manages to nod, his voice a sleepy mumble. "Call me in the morning?"
“I will,” I promise, leaning down, brushing the wayward curl out of his face again. "Get some rest, okay?"
Oren doesn’t respond, already back in the land of sleep. I watch him for a few more seconds before quietly stepping out of the room, closing the door behind me as quietly as I can.
As I walk down the sterile hallway toward the elevators, my mind spinning, I stop short. Sitting in a chair at the end of the hallway, slouched and looking as shitty as I feel, is Elliot. I approach him slowly, my footsteps echoing in the quiet.
“How long have you been here?” I ask, crossing my arms, trying to not worry about how our conversation might go.
Elliot looks up at me, his face pale and full of sadness. “Since I dropped Ziggy off,” he mutters, rubbing a hand over his mustache.
“That was hours ago,” I say, frowning at him.
He shrugs, staring down at his hands. “I figured you would rather chew off your own arm than call me for a ride, so I just waited. You shouldn’t have to get an Uber. Tonight’s been difficult enough.”
I sigh, holding back a laugh, shaking my head. He’s right, I wasn’t going to call him. But this isn’t the same Elliot I’m used to. He isn’t goofy, loud, the self-assured guy with an opinion about everything. Tonight he is defeated. Broken, even.
I soften my tone, glancing back down the hallway toward Oren’s room. “You should’ve come in.”
“Nah,” Elliot says, still not meeting my eyes. “He didn’t need me in there bothering him…he needs rest.” There’s a long, uncomfortable pause before Elliot stands up, brushing off his pants like he’s shaking off the conversation.
“Come on,” he says quietly. “Let’s get you home.”
The drive back to my apartment is complete silence. I stare out the window, my mind replaying everything from tonight—Oren on the ice, the doctor’s words, the way Elliot looks like he’s the one who put Oren in that hospital bed.
When he pulls up in front of my building, he finally breaks the silence. “I’m sorry,” he mutters, his voice low and raw. “For being a giant douchecanoe.”
I blink, turning to look at him, surprised by his bluntness. I don’t say anything for a moment. Instead, I just stare at him, feeling a mix of emotions swirling in my chest. In the grand scheme of things, none of the bullshit matters anymore. So instead of lecturing him more, I just nod. “I know.”
And with that, I grab my things and head inside. The adrenaline of the night finally gone, all I’m left with is the crash. I head upstairs to find Ziggy and Lily, desperate for my bed. When I open the door, the apartment is dark and still. The only light that guides me in is from Ziggy’s phone in the darkness of the couch.
“She went down easy,” she says quietly, standing up to meet me. “How’s Oren?”
“He woke up,” I say, my voice trembling. “He’s got a concussion, a fucked up leg, but he is going to be okay. Now he’s back asleep. We will know more in the morning. Holy shit, Ziggy—it was terrifying!”
“I know, Rach. I’m so sorry.” She pulls me into a hug, her arms wrapping around me tightly.
She releases me from the hug and gathers up her bag, as she heads out the door she stops to give me a lecture about getting some sleep. With Elliot waiting for her downstairs, she shuts the door behind her and is gone in a blink after the lecture. After checking on Lily, I collapse onto my bed. I lie there in the dark, staring at the blackness of the ceiling, and then, without warning, the tears come. Silent, gut-wrenching sobs that I can’t stop. I cry for Oren, for my fear, because he is hurt. I cry because I don’t know what the future holds and for how much I care about him when I shouldn’t. Eventually, I fall into a fitful sleep, one where Oren’s face is the last thing I see before the darkness pulls me under.