40. Cassie
40
CASSIE
“ M atthew?” I asked, hesitantly. I wiped my eyes from the dried-up tears that were stuck on my cheeks.
Audrey turned to Dr. Torres, peering at him with awe. I noticed the way she was looking at him and almost smiled.
Oh, Audrey , I thought, turning my attention to the doctor whom Matthew's fate depended on.
“Matthew has been moved up to a room in the ICU. We were finally able to stop the bleeding.” Dr. Torres paused, and I hung onto every word he said.
“His liver was severely damaged. The bullet thankfully had an exit wound, but because of the liver’s sinusoidal blood system, it was what we call a bleeder. Matthew needed multiple blood transfusions, and he did code once,” he continued, looking at me and making sure I was still with him.
“So he’s going to be okay?” I asked carefully, a little breathless. Tears of relief and joy streamed down my face.
I felt Audrey’s arm wrap around me, offering me support just in case Dr. Torres had bad news.
Dr. Torres sighed. “Well, we’re not out of the woods yet. In fact, it’s going to be tough for a while.”
I gasped and was about to speak when Dr. Torres raised his hand to stop me. “But, I’m feeling very good about his chances. He’s young. We were able to get him into surgery quickly. We placed him under a medically induced coma to give his body a chance to heal. We’ll start to wean him off the medicine over the next few hours, and we’ll know more about his recovery at that point.”
I exhaled, taking it all in. “Can I see him?”
The young doctor nodded. “He just got moved into his room, so you should be able to go up and visit with him shortly. Only one visitor at a time though. Also, I should warn you—we needed to give him extra morphine for the pain, so even when we do bring him out of the coma, he may be in and out of consciousness for a while,” Dr. Torres added, looking down at his clipboard. “He’s going to need a lot of support over the next several weeks. And I think it goes without saying, but absolutely no drinking. His liver is very delicate, and while it will heal, I don’t advise ingesting excessive amounts of alcohol.”
I nodded. Giving up alcohol for a while seemed like it was a small price to pay for being able to have years ahead of us.
“Thank you so much, Dr. Torres!” Audrey perked up, smiling from ear to ear.
“Thank you,” I breathed. All I wanted to do was see Matthew.
“All part of the job. And you can call me Henry.” He winked at Audrey and walked toward the nurses’ station.
I stood in the doorway as the nurse finished checking Matthew’s vitals.
“You can come in, dear,” the nurse alerted me, stepping into the hallway.
But I was stuck. I was scared, terrified really. My mind kept replaying the events of the day, reminding me how differently things could have turned out.
How close I’d gotten to losing him today.
How one mistake almost ripped him from me again.
Fucking Charlie. I’d deal with her later.
I took a deep breath and stepped into the room. I sat down in the lounge chair beside Matthew’s bed. Looking at his hand, I had an internal war with myself over whether or not to touch him.
While Dr. Torres hadn’t gone so far as to basically assure me Matthew was going to pull through, he had sounded optimistic about the odds of him making a full recovery, so why was I so scared? I was traumatized. I couldn’t help but think that this was all too good to be true. That my chance at a happily ever after would be yanked away from me yet again.
For hours, I sat there, taking in the IVs, machines, and staff coming in and out. As Dr. Torres had told me, they eased up on the medication keeping Matthew asleep. The sun fell low in the sky as the day dragged on. Audrey had texted me she was going home to feed the cats and would be back soon with some dinner. My stomach growled and I realized I hadn’t eaten all day. Not that it mattered. Not if I couldn’t do it with Matthew.
Over the course of the day, I had been psyching myself up to just hold onto Matthew, to have tangible proof that he was still here, still fighting. I prayed for strength, for both of us.
Gently, as if touching a broken piece of glass, I grasped his hand in mine.
As I touched him, Matthew’s body jolted in response to my touch.
“Matty, please wake up. I love you,” I pleaded. I’d just gotten him back. Our time wasn’t supposed to be up so soon.
Moments passed and aside from that one small reaction, he lay perfectly still. I felt the walls closing in on me in the sterile, white hospital room. My shoulders sagged in defeat, a lone tear trailing down my cheek.
The next thing I knew, monitors started going wild, beeping incessantly, and Matthew’s fingers fluttered in mine. His grip grew stronger as they tightened around me.
Green eyes flew open. Wild and confused.
Awake and most importantly, alive.