19. Dominic
DOMINIC
“ H ow much longer?” I pace the waiting room.
Este has been all alone in the CT scanner for two hours since we arrived at the emergency room.
I’d called an ambulance right away, and when Este came around in the ER, she complained of a horrific headache.
The worst pain she’d ever felt, including childbirth, which encouraged the doctors to take her seriously.
It just so happened that Mallory’s cousin Amy—Dr. Harbinger, the ENT who Este has been seeing, had privileges in this hospital.
Not only is she an ENT specialist, but she also performs surgeries.
She’s already told me she suspects Este has a cerebrospinal fluid (CSF) leak that’s either leaking into her nose or her sinuses, which would explain the sinus infections she’s had over the last year.
Dr. Harbinger had diagnosed it as a maxillary sinus infection just a week before Este and I first met, and thankfully, she doesn’t have too big an ego to admit she made a mistake.
Finally, Este is wheeled back into the room.
“Turn out the lights,” she demands, throwing her palms up over her face. “They’re killing my eyes and my head!”
Dr. Harbinger adjusts the pain medication dose herself rather than ringing a nurse after she shuts off the lights.
“Rock star treatment,” I whisper to Este, who gives me a weak thumbs up and then presses her eyes closed.
Her face is pallid, and I’m terrified to see her in so much pain. I want to take it all away, take it on myself instead.
“Going to go pester them for results, stat,” Dr. Harbinger tells us in a low voice before she addresses Este. “You’re maxed on meds, hon. Hang in there another half hour, and we’ll get you more morphine as long as your blood pressure stays normal.”
“Thanks,” Este whispers before she pulls the blanket up over her head. I hear her crying underneath it, and I free her foot from the sheets and massage it, needing my hands on her, needing her to feel me here and know I’m not going anywhere.
She sits up. “It hurts less when I sit up. When should we call Reed? Have you checked my phone?”
Oh shit. Nope.
I managed to grab it after I wrangled a dress over Este’s head before the ambulance arrived, along with her purse, so I dig through it, find the phone, and offer it to her.
“No. My code is 2320, just check my messages. Make sure Reed’s okay.” Este moves her electronic bed’s back higher, leans her head back, and shoves a pillow over her face.
Reed recently texted to tell us she’s home, hungover, and going to sleep.
I read it aloud to Este, who just groans. “If I get worse, call her from my phone. And if the results are horrible, have her call my parents. They’re up in Dallas, and I don’t want them here, but if I need to be taken care of, they’ll come down.”
I shush her. “Este, I’ve got you. I’m the one taking care of you this time, no one else.
And I’ll take care of Reed, too. I’ll make sure to get her everything on the list for summer camp if you’re under the weather.
I’ve got you, Este.” I repeat it to make sure she believes me, not that I can see her expression since she’s still got a pillow covering her head.
“Okay.” Then she asks if it’s been half an hour yet.
“It’s getting there.” I don’t have the heart to tell her she’s still twenty-five minutes from her next dose of morphine.
It’s tearing me apart seeing her like this, and I feel responsible.
Dr. Harbinger asked about Este’s position before she’d passed out, and I showed her how she had been bent over.
She’d seemed to think it made the CSF leak worse.
I was terrified when she sprawled out on the floor, unresponsive, but my medical training kicked in fast. I assessed that her airway was clear, and she was breathing fine.
It had taken her some time to come around, and she’d been very confused when she was brought into a hospital room, chattering about how she just had a sinus infection and a headache but would be fine.
She’d suggested calling Dr. Harbinger to get her released from the hospital.
“I love you,” Este whispers from beneath the pillow. “Thank you for taking good care of me when I fainted.”
“You’re always safe with me, baby. I love you too. I’m going to run to the gift shop and see if they have face masks. They must, right?”
“And earplugs?” Este suggests.
I kiss the top of her ankle and tell her not to pass out again until I get back.
“Har-har.” She’s unamused.
Hair ties, check.
Earplugs, check.
Face mask, check.
A stuffed green alligator? Also, check.
By the time I reach her room, I spot Dr. Harbinger along with another doctor in a white coat at Este’s bedside and realize I must be late to this discussion.
Este is begging, “Isn’t there a more conservative option?”
I toss the items down on the bedside table and walk around the bed. Este is sitting cross-legged in the center, and she leans her back against my front.
“They’re saying they need to do immediate surgery. They found a hole at the very top of my nasal bone that they need to repair, or the fluid will keep leaking down my nose and into my sinuses.”
“Fuck,” I groan, then regret my choice of words when the older male doctor grimaces. “Sorry. Okay, so there’s no other choice?”
Dr. Harbinger looks serious as she replies, “This is the only way. The good news is that we can access the area through the nose rather than drilling into the skull. I expect you’ll have a positive outcome, and after thirty days of healing or so, you should be as good as new, Celeste.”
My eyes widen. How did I not know her full name was Celeste? I choose not to dwell on it as I remember she’d told me, “My friends call me Este,” when we’d met. Still, it’s a bit unnerving to be in love with someone and not know their full given name.
We’d moved quickly. Had it been too fast?
It was almost love at first sight for me.
Like a beacon of light had surrounded Este in that park, and the universe pointed my eyes her way at the perfect time to step in and secure the name tag pin to her shirt.
It had only taken one long look to sense she could be the one for me, and it was the first time in my life I’d experienced a recognition so strong.
“We’ll get you prepped for surgery over the next hour.
I understand your nerves, but this is the best and only treatment option,” Dr. Harbinger tells Este, who nods, agrees, and moves to press her face into my chest. I hold the back of her head, massaging her scalp as the doctors leave the darkened room.
“I’ve got a will in my file box. It’s in my closet, on the right side, in the back corner. The paperwork is all in order to transfer custody of Reed to Mallory in the event of my passing. Mallory is my power of attorney, so I need to give her a quick call.”
“Nothing’s going to happen to you,” I tell her in an emphatic tone. “You’ll get through this little surgery, recover, and never have to deal with this kind of pain again.” I kiss her head before she leans away to grab her phone.
Este tells Mallory not to bother coming to the hospital, but Mallory insists she’s already putting on her shoes. She arrives minutes before Este is wheeled back into the operating room.
All I can do is tell her, “I love you, baby,” and kiss her before she’s wheeled back.
The room plummets into silence.
Mallory’s bent over with her head in her hands, and I try to offer her some comfort by placing my hand between her shoulder blades. We sit there companionably, and by the end of the second hour, we’ve clasped hands, and Mallory is squeezing mine so hard my fingers have turned white.
“They said it would be quick.” Mallory breaks the silence with her worry-soaked whimper.
“Any minute now,” I tell her with a certainty I don’t feel as I tap my foot and hear it echo in the empty, quiet room.
An hour later, we’re both pacing the room like crazy, and my heart rate is jacked. It vibrates in my neck as I’m seized with anxiety. It was supposed to be a relatively straightforward surgery, and the wait is killing both of us.
Finally, we hear the racket of a bed being wheeled down the hallway, and we spot a sleeping Este with a massive bandage over her face.
“She’s fine,” Dr. Harbinger tells us as they place the bed and IV in the center of the room where it belongs. “We found the leak and patched it. There were no complications, and I’m optimistic about her recovery.”
“Thank you so much, doc,” I tell her, extending my hand to shake hers. She hands me some paperwork, suggesting to read over it while I wait for Este to wake up.
Mallory and I sit on opposite sides of the bed in chairs as we wait for Este to come around.
She’s had a lot of pain medication, and the sedation is just beginning to wear off when I finish skimming the booklet.
She’s going to have to sleep seated for some time, and there will be absolutely no sexual activity for the next thirty days.
Thirty. Whole. Days. Surgery—the biggest cockblock there is.
“It’s almost dinner time. I’m going to head to Este’s and get Reed some dinner, tell her what happened, and I’ll let her know Este will call as soon as she’s physically able.” Mallory glances at her phone as she stands up.
“Okay,” I agree. “I’m going to call over at Hansen’s Furniture and see if they have any adjustable bases for Este’s bed. Might have to get her a new mattress, too. Can you text me the name of her mattress so I can see if it’ll be compatible with the adjustable frame?”
“Will do. You stay with our girl.” Mallory kisses my cheek, then Este’s, and walks away.
Este sleeps for another hour and a half, and when she wakes up, it’s slowly.
“Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty.” I stroke her cheek as her eyes blink open, and she focuses on me. She gives me a little smile and an almost imperceptible nod. “How are you feeling, baby?”
“Better.” She croaks the word out, and I hold the ice water up and place the straw between her dry lips. I dig in her purse for her organic watermelon lip balm and gently apply it.
“Thanks,” Este whispers, before she rests against her pillow and falls asleep again.