Chapter 30
CHAPTER THIRTY
NATE
The cat’s out of the bag.
I drag a hand through my hair, resisting the urge to shove through the metal doors separating me from Mackenzie and Liam. The helplessness gnaws at me. I’ve spent years on the other side of the emergency room, being the one who fixes, who saves. Now, I’m just another person waiting.
And Mackenzie is in there alone.
The sterile walls are meant to be calming, but all I see is how artificial it feels compared to the chaos I’m used to; field hospitals, makeshift triage centers, and places where you don’t get the luxury of waiting rooms with matching furniture.
The silence stretches. The drive here had been thick with it after I peeled Mackenzie off her brother. To my surprise, he didn’t strike back. Mackenzie was so shattered she didn’t even question me about my profession. Not one word.
I don’t know if that’s a relief or a death sentence.
Another thirty minutes tick by before the doors swing open. Mackenzie steps out, looking wrecked. Her eyes, red-rimmed and heavy with exhaustion, barely meet mine.
“How’s Liam?” I stand and step toward her.
“Stable. But…” She swallows hard. “They took X-rays, and the te ch asked him to move his ankle. Move it. Like, hello? The bones aren’t even connected.” Her voice cracks with frustration. “I had to tell them to stop.”
I clench my jaw, biting back my own anger. Common sense should never be optional. “Did they scan his spleen?”
“Yes. They’re doing it now.” Her lower lip quivers, and before I think better of it, I pull her against me. She stiffens at first, but then she breaks, her body sagging into mine. Silent tremors wrack her frame as I hold her.
Damn, Liam’s uncle for trying to show up. Mackenzie was right to shut him out. If he had pushed her further, I might have broken my own rule about staying out of fights.
Her sobs quiet, and I gently guide her to a chair. The moment isn’t right to tell her the truth. Not when she’s barely holding herself together. She needs me now And Liam’s road to recovery will be long.
The doors open again, and two physicians dressed in blue scrubs approach us.
“Ms. Gillman, there’s no active internal bleeding,” the general physician says. “The bruising should heal on its own over the next few weeks.”
Relief flashes across her face, but it doesn’t erase the worry.
“They’re moving him to the surgical floor now.” The orthopedic surgeon adds. “You can see him before he goes into surgery.”
“Thank you.” Mackenzie’s voice is barely audible.
The general physician turns to me. “You’re lucky your boyfriend’s a surgeon. His quick thinking helped save Liam’s leg.”
Silence.
I feel her stare before I see it. Wide eyes. Unreadable expression.
I didn’t correct the boyfriend assumption. That’s not what sends ice down my spine. It’s the fact that she knows now. She knows.
And says nothing.
We walk toward pre-op, the unspoken words stretching taut between us. This is a battlefield I’ve never trained for. One where love and betrayal are at war, and I don’t know which side will win.
Liam is groggy when we reach him. Mackenzie presses a trembling kiss to his forehead, whispering reassurances even as her hands shake.
“They’ll fix you up soon, okay?”
He gives her a sluggish nod as the meds drag him under. A few moments later, they wheel him away. And we’re back in the waiting room.
Then she turns to me.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were a surgeon?”
Her voice isn’t angry. It isn’t cold. It’s calm. Too calm. Like a moment before a storm unleashes.
I open my mouth, but her phone rings.
“Mom,” she mouths, lifting it to her ear. She listens for a moment, rubbing a hand over her face.
By the time she hangs up, she sighs.
“Everything okay?”
“She picked up Nick from school.” She leans the back of her head against the wall. “She wants to come, but I don’t want him staying with Jordan. Stan may be doing better, but he’s in no condition to watch a five-year-old.”
“I can go get him. I hate leaving you alone, but if it helps…”
She hesitates, then nods. “Yeah. I’d feel better knowing he’s with you.”
Then Jill bursts into the room, rushing toward Mackenzie. They hug, and I take it as my cue to leave. But Mackenzie’s gaze finds mine over Jill’s shoulder. Her eyes hold so many questions, yet also regret.
I’d like to think she’s regretting that I have to go.
When she steps away, she turns to me again. “Thanks, Nate. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
I pull her into a hug, holding on just a little too long. I can’t lose her. Not over this .
She looks up at me with teary eyes. “It makes me sick. Physically sick.”
“I know. Me too.”
We’ll talk later. I just hope she still looks at me the same way when we do.
As I drive back to her mom’s house, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m about to lose everything I just found.