Chapter 34
A warm hand brushed my cheek as I slowly stirred awake. And the more I came to, the more I ached.
Every muscle in my body felt like it had been set to a low tumble dry with a couple of bricks. And that was mild compared to how my chest felt.
A soft, broken groan escaped me as my brow pinched. I tried to shift, hoping for a sliver of relief, but my body refused, the pain quickly flooding back and settling deep in my chest.
“Take it easy, baby girl.” I heard his gentle voice, and my head slowly turned in its direction as my eyes fluttered open. I blinked Blake’s blurry face into focus, meeting his soft blue eyes and even softer smile. “There you are.”
“Hi…” I drawled in a whisper.
He carefully lifted my hand that was held by his and leaned forward, kissing my knuckles. “Hi, yourself.” His other hand lifted, gently tucking my hair behind my ear. “You’ve been coming in and out for the past hour. How are you feeling?”
“Sore.”
“Yeah. You’re gonna be for a while.” A slight cough slipped past my lips, and I grimaced from the pain; then he grimaced on my behalf.
“Here…” He grabbed a styrofoam cup filled with ice water from the bedside table and guided the straw to my lips so I could take a small sip.
“Your mom, Wes, and Morgan went to grab something for dinner. But they’ll be back in a bit. ”
Wes knew Blake was there with me? I had questions, but I was still too out of it to let myself worry enough to ask them.
“Do you remember what happened?” he asked.
Flashes of the accident filled my head.
I remembered it happening, the almost weightless feeling as my Jeep hydroplaned.
I remembered the burst of fear followed by pain as it flipped.
I remembered seeing him suddenly appear, a part of me believing I’d just conjured him in my head and that he wasn’t really there.
After that, everything faded.
“For the most part,” I said quietly as I searched his eyes. “You showed up…”
“Yeah.” He swallowed and nodded. “I, um…you were having a hard time breathing. I found your stethoscope. You had a pneumothorax. So I did a needle decompression right there.” My brows rose slightly.
No wonder my chest hurt. “Turns out your questionably accumulated medical supply really came in handy.”
I grunted out a laugh, then winced. “Oh…don’t make me laugh.”
“Sorry.” He stiffened and brushed his thumb over my knuckles. “All in all, you’re pretty damn lucky. The worst of it was the pneumo. You have a nice little cut on your brow, but they had plastics come in, so you shouldn’t have a scar. Some scrapes and bruises, but…you’re alive.”
His voice cracked at those last two words as his grip on my hand tightened. Tears pricked my eyes, my emotions ricocheting. “Blake…”
“You scared the absolute hell out of me,” he whispered through a shaky breath.
“I thought—thought that you…” He trailed off, refusing to voice the worst-case scenario out loud.
His hand came up, carefully running over the top of my head as he let out a breath before he leaned forward, brushing his lips against my temple.
“You need to rest.” I tightened my hand around his. “I’m not going anywhere. Just rest.”
I didn’t want to. I wanted to stay in that moment with him—to talk to him—but my body had other plans. Between whatever meds they had me on and his gentle voice and soothing touch, I drifted back to sleep.
The next twenty-four hours were the worst in terms of pain and some shortness of breath. Blake and my mom hadn’t left my side.
My brother and Morgan had to work, but they decided to wait to come back until I was feeling up to visitors. I still hadn’t figured out what my brother knew, if anything, but it was the furthest thing from my mind at the moment.
On Friday, Blake had to work, but since he was just downstairs, he came up to see me when he could, alternating visits with Marie and the other nurses while my mom stayed at my side.
And that evening, after my updated X-ray confirmed the reinflation of my lung, they did a clamping trial to ensure the pneumothorax wouldn’t return.
By Saturday morning, they’d removed the chest tube, and that afternoon, I was moved from the ICU to a step-down unit for observation for at least the next twenty-four hours.
They said if all looked well, I could possibly—hopefully—be discharged tomorrow.
I was feeling better, but I was still sluggish and sore, which was expected.
However, they were pleased with my progress so far, all things considered.
My mom finished arranging my get-well flowers.
I had some from the ER nurses, a couple from the doctors, one from my brother and Morgan, one from Gabe, one from Lucas and Callie, and even one from Blake.
After she was done, since I could now eat solid food, my mom went to grab me something for a late lunch, so I wouldn’t be stuck eating hospital food.
I was in the middle of one of my breathing exercises when a light knock came on the door. Blake walked in a moment later, dressed in his navy blue scrubs—he had to work that day.
“Hey.” He smiled as he closed the door behind him. “How are you feeling?”
“Still sore, but better now that the tube is out.”
He chuckled. “I bet.” He pulled a bandage and ointment from his pocket, and I gave him a look.
“The nurse was coming in to change your bandage,” he said, gesturing to my brow.
“I told her I’d do it.” He sat on the edge of the bed, slipped on a pair of gloves, and reached up to gently peel the old bandage off. “Doesn’t look bad.”
He carefully cleaned the small wound. Then, he took a Q-tip and began applying the ointment. While I let him work, I became curious enough to finally ask—plus, it was the first time we were alone without someone else in the room.
“Does Wes…does he know?”
I saw the corner of his lips twitch as his eyes dropped to mine. “Yeah. He knows…” He put the cap on the ointment and opened the bandage package. “He figured it out that day based on where the accident happened. Plus, my being there was even more of a giveaway.”
Oh shit. “Was he pissed?”
“Yeah, at first,” he quietly answered with a nod. “But we talked. We’re good.”
I didn’t know what that meant. We’re good. Who? He and Wes? He and I? All three of us?
The day of the accident, I was supposed to go to Blake’s after I got done with work.
He said he’d cleared his head and that we needed to talk, but I still had no idea what he wanted to say.
Now, knowing my brother knew, paired with him saying “we’re good,” I was left confused and with more questions.
I wanted to ask about the conversation he wanted to have, but at the same time, I didn’t. I was still slightly anxious about it, unable to stop myself from thinking the worst. But he’d been here with me. So, that had to be a good sign…right?
“We still need to talk…” I said it in hopes of gauging him, to see if I could get a feel for what it would be about.
He finished placing the small bandage on my brow, his eyes concentrating on what he was doing and not meeting mine. “Yeah, we do. And we will.”
That was it? That was all he was giving me?
It only put me more on edge and made me more anxious, but I didn’t push him for more. Not yet. Not here.
Late the following morning, after being examined and assessed again, the doctor told me I was okay to be discharged. I was relieved. I couldn’t wait to get the hell out of there and be back in my own space.
My mom had already packed a bag for me with clothes and brought it yesterday.
I couldn’t shower yet—I felt so gross, but I had to wait at least another day because of the incision from the chest tube.
Marie made fun of me while she was helping me wash my hair with a shampoo cap yesterday—we always joked about how those must be the worst. While it wasn’t the greatest, it got the job done.
While I was waiting for my mom to get there, since I assumed she’d be coming to take me home, there was a knock on my door. Blake walked in a moment later. He was wearing jeans and a T-shirt, not his navy blue scrubs like he should be, as today was part of his weekend shift.
“Hey,” I greeted him. “What are you doing?”
“Taking you home,” he said casually.
My brow furrowed. “You don’t have to do that. My mom can take me back to my place.”
“I know I don’t have to, but I want to. And you’re not going to your place. You’re coming to mine. I talked with Dr. Tomblin yesterday and took the next two weeks off.”
I stilled.
He was taking me back to his place?
And he talked to Dr. Tomblin?
“What?”
Before he could answer, the doctor and the nurse walked in. Blake looked at me. “I’ll explain everything later.”
The nurse closed the curtain around my bed, and while she helped me get dressed, I listened to the doctor go over my discharge instructions with Blake. He said he was well aware we both already knew the routine because of our positions, but had to tell us anyway, “per protocol.”
And I did know the routine—monitor the incision, avoid strenuous activity, take pain medication as needed, increase activity as tolerated, and so on.
Once I was dressed, I signed the paperwork. While I waited for the nurse to return with the wheelchair—another protocol—Blake retrieved a cart and took my bag and get-well flowers down to his car, which was already waiting out front.
When I was wheeled out, he was right there, helping me from the wheelchair and into his car. Just that bit of movement had me tired and winded since it was the most I’d done in days.
Blake got into the driver’s seat once I was in, and glanced over at me as he buckled his seatbelt. “You okay?”
I nodded, resting my head back against the seat as I closed my eyes. “Yeah.”
I felt his hand curl around mine a moment later, and I looked over at him. I had so many damn questions running through my head, but I didn’t have the energy at the moment to ask any of them.
We pulled into his driveway twenty minutes later—he drove like a grandpa the whole way, trying to avoid every little bump and dip in the road. He got out and walked around to the passenger side, opening my door. I carefully turned in the seat, and he offered his hand. “Careful…”
My grip on his hand was tight, his other hand going to my hip as I carefully slid out of the vehicle. I could hear Maverick barking from inside, and I smiled through the ache I was feeling as he helped me walk toward the porch.
Maverick was at the door the minute Blake opened it. “Stay down,” he said, gentle but firm, as Maverick whined happily and bounced.
I reached my free hand down, scratching behind his ear. “Hi, buddy.”
He trotted alongside me as Blake led me over to the couch and helped me sit, and I let out a breath as I rested back against the cushions. “You feeling okay?”
“Yeah, just…” I paused, trying to catch my breath. “Didn’t know walking from your car to the couch would be so tiring.”
“Just rest,” he said. Maverick jumped onto the couch a moment later, inching toward me, almost like he knew he had to be careful.
“I’m going to grab the stuff from the car. I’ll be right back.”
By the time Blake got everything inside and situated, I was feeling less winded. He walked over to the couch, set a bottle of water and my pain meds on the coffee table, and then turned, crouching down to slip off my slippers for me.
I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He was being so caring and gentle—he’d been this way the whole time I was in the hospital—and it made my emotions start to feel wonky. I think they were more heightened than usual due to everything that happened the last few days and my body being out of whack.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
He lifted his eyes to mine and smiled. “It’s just slippers,” he quipped.
“Not just for taking them off…but for everything.” His gaze softened, and my eyes stung.
Maybe it was being alone with him in his house, but I hadn’t really been able to fully process it all before. But Blake had saved my life. If he hadn’t gone out and found me, if he didn’t do what he did before the ambulance got there—I knew how lucky I was that things didn’t pan out worse for me.
And a massive part of that was because of him.
His next words broke through my thoughts like a wrecking ball. “Are you feeling up to having that talk?”
I felt my heart stutter. The talk. I was far too curious at that point, needing to know what he wanted to say, even if I might not be ready for it.
So, I nodded.