Chapter 34
THIRTY-FOUR
I sit on the edge of the hospital bed, my arm in a sling and my hand and forearm wrapped in layers of bandages and a large splint. The doctor’s voice drones on with final instructions, but my eyes stay fixed on the floor while Mom and Heather listen intently.
“The forearm fracture will take about three months to fully heal,” the doctor explains. “But since both bones were fractured, plus the wrist, we could be looking at longer. We put three plates in due to the severity of the injury.”
I bite back the urge to tune him out completely.
“Your hand, however, is more complicated,” he continues. “Given the extent of the fractures and soft tissue damage, we may need another surgery in the future to improve functionality. For now, I’m referring you to occupational therapy to start early mobilization, manage scar tissue, and prevent stiffness.” He pauses for a moment, but I still don’t look up at him. “Progress will be slow,” he continues cautiously. “It’s going to be about six months to rehabilitate your hand. I’ll be honest… it will never be exactly as it was before.”
I close my eyes as my stomach drops and dread washes over me.
“But our goal is to get you as close to normal function as possible,” the doctor says. “And achieving this has a lot to do with the therapy that comes after surgery. So, work hard, and it will pay off.”
As he starts in on medications and pain management, I finally let myself zone out. Everything feels distant, muted by the haze of meds and the heavy weight of sadness sinking into my chest.
Until the bed dips beside me, and I glance up to meet Grandpa’s eyes. He offers a small, sad smile, patting my leg while the doctor finishes talking to Mom and Heather.
The doctor then gives me a nod with a, “Good luck,” and leaves the room.
“Ok, I think we got everything,” Mom says, glancing around the stark, depressing room.
“I already got your prescriptions filled, Theo,” Heather says, placing several pill bottles in my bag and zipping it shut. Then she looks at me with a forced smile. “Ready?”
I blow out a breath and push off the bed to stand, ignoring the fog in my head and the unsteady feeling beneath my feet.
“Wait,” Mom says, quickly stepping forward. “You’re supposed to use a wheelchair.”
“I’m fine,” I mutter, walking past her and forcing my body to cooperate. “Let’s just go.”
Mom and Heather murmur behind me as I leave the room, but Grandpa stays close as we make our way to the car.
When we get there, Heather places my bag in Mom’s car and turns to me. “Hey, Teddy,” she says softly.
I meet her eyes, and she offers a small, gentle smile. “You’ve got this,” she says. “Liam’s waiting for you at home. I told him to stay…” Her eyes flick between mine as they fill with some kind of emotion. “I called him yesterday after your surgery to fill him in on everything.”
I nod, swallowing hard as I drop my eyes, my own emotion gently nudging at the fog in my brain.
“I drove myself here this morning,” Heather adds, nodding towards her car parked nearby. “So I’ll check in later, ok?”
“Ok,” I manage with another nod.
She holds the door open for me as I slide into the back seat of Mom’s car, wincing as I try not to bump my arm. Mom and Grandpa get in the front, and by the time we’re pulling away from the hospital, sleep is pulling me under.
I don’t wake until I hear tires crunching on gravel, and I open my eyes to the familiar sight of my house as Mom parks next to Liam’s truck.
“Oh good, Liam’s here,” Mom says. “I should go over your meds with him.”
“He’s going back to work tomorrow,” I mutter, awkwardly pushing the car door open. Grandpa holds it for me as I get out, then grabs my bag and follows me inside.
The first thing I see when I step into the house is Liam, standing near the kitchen, watching me with wide, worried eyes.
“Hi, Liam,” Mom says warmly, placing a hand on his arm as she walks past him into the kitchen. “Theo won’t let me stay here with him for some reason,” she chuckles, “so I’m just going to run through his meds with you. He’s still a little fuzzy.”
I walk past them and head into the living room, ignoring the sound of their voices in the kitchen as I sit on the couch. Miss Bobber hops up with me, curiously sniffing my bandaged hand as I tip my head back against the couch cushion and close my eyes.
After a few minutes, a hand squeezes my shoulder, but I keep my eyes closed. I know it’s Grandpa, and I know they’re leaving… but I just can’t do it… any of it. Not right now.
“Take care, Theo,” he says softly. “Talk tomorrow.”
I hear the door close, and the house falls quiet. Except for the sound of Liam’s hesitant footsteps as they approach me.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice breaking.
My eyes open and I turn my head to look at him.
His eyes are wet with tears, and it looks like he’s barely hanging on. I stare at him for a moment, taking in the dark circles under his eyes and the sleepless look about him.
“I… I should have been there,” he says as a tear rolls down his cheek, and his hands shake.
And suddenly, I feel everything.
Every emotion I’ve buried since I woke up after surgery yesterday rushes to the surface. The anger, the sadness, the fear of what comes next… I’ve been holding it all back as I tried to stay in control. But now, with him, I can’t keep it in anymore.
I feel everything.
And I need him.
I reach out with my good hand, and the moment he takes it, I break. A sob escapes me as he drops down beside me and pulls me carefully into his arms.
“Fuck,” I mutter into his chest as my tears fall.
I fucking hate this, and I wish more than anything that I could go back to before, when everything was good. When we had plans to move forward with happiness and hope.
He kisses the top of my head as he holds me close, letting me catch my breath and let it all out. His breaths are shaky, but he remains calm and steady.
“Everything is fucked,” I say.
I feel him start to shake his head, but I pull back to look into his eyes before he can say anything else.
“It is,” I say, a wave of frustration rolling over me as I finally let myself realize what this all means. “It’s going to be six months before I have any sort of use of my hand again, and even then, it will never be the same. It’s the end of lobster season, my crew is left hanging, and I won’t make it back for tuna season either.” I shake my head as reality settles over me. “I may never fish again.” My eyes drop to the floor as the weight of it all crashes down on me.
Liam slides his hand into mine and squeezes, drawing my gaze back to him as I blink back tears.
“It’s not over,” he says softly. “You’ll take some time off to heal and then get back into it when you’re ready.” He gently rubs his thumb over the back of my hand. “I’ll help you.”
I stare into his eyes for a moment longer as his words hang in the air, and I want to believe him. But it’s hard to see how this is all going to be ok.
“Everything can wait,” he says. “Right now, you need to take care of yourself.”
My eyes drop to my arm wrapped in heavy bandages, and a dull ache creeps in as the meds begin to wear off. My vision blurs with fresh tears, but before they fall, Liam pulls me into him again and threads his fingers gently through my hair.
“I wish I was there for you,” he whispers.
“You are,” I murmur, finding comfort in his touch.
He shakes his head. “I should have been there…” he says again, his voice breaking with guilt.
I’m quiet for a moment as I think back to when I woke up after surgery, searching for him even though I knew he wouldn’t be there. But I know why he wasn’t. And I understand.
“I froze,” he continues, “and I couldn’t make myself go… I’m so sorry.” He holds onto me a bit tighter, like he’s afraid to let go.
I look into his tear-filled blue eyes, and my heart sinks, hating that he’s carrying this weight. “I get it,” I say. “It’s ok. We’re here now.”
He nods as a tear falls. “I thought I was going to lose you.” Then he takes a deep breath in and presses his lips to the side of my head. “But… we’re here now,” he says, repeating my words like he’s trying to believe they’re really true. “And you’re going to be ok.”
I drop my head to his chest again, letting my eyes travel out the window to the ocean. “I hope so,” I say quietly.