Chapter Forty-Three
Atlas
"Atlas..."
My head snaps up at the scratchy, faint voice.
Blinking the sleep from my eyes, I focus on Wendy, and my heart jumps when I see her half-lidded green eyes open and staring at the ceiling.
Her brow is pulled like she's confused or in pain—probably both—and I reach over and press the alert button like Dr. King showed me last night.
"Baby?" I say, keeping my voice soft as she slowly blinks.
The sight of her awake and moving causes a wave of relief to wash over me.
"Atlas..." The air is knocked from me when she finally connects those beautiful green eyes to mine, a little cloudy, but there's recognition there.
Oh God, and then her lips curve in the smallest, but sweetest smile I've ever seen. Somehow, I think I fall even more in love with her, something I thought was impossible because I loved her enough to burst.
"Hi, handsome..."
I laugh, losing my battle against my tears.
"Hi, baby, I'm here."
Her smile widens slightly before she winces and squeezes her eyes shut.
The lights have been dimmed completely, but I know she probably has a bad headache right now, if the darkened bruise on her temple is any indication.
"I'm here—what do you need?" I ask, needing to ease her pain.
"My head hurts."
"I know, I'm sorry," I murmur, impatiently pressing the alert button again. And again. "Do you know where you are?"
She cracks her eyes open and glances around, looking more confused the more she sees.
"Did I miss dinner? I'm sorry..."
Not even pushing down the laugh, I shake my head and gently cup her face.
"Yeah, you did, baby. But it's okay, we'll have plenty more dinners. I promise."
She sighs and leans into my hand, nuzzling her cheek against it. "Okay..."
The door behind me opens, and I turn to see a kind-faced nurse walking in.
"Hi, Mrs. Durant, I'm Nurse Parker."
"What... happened..." she croaks, her throat bobbing as she tries to drink. Nurse Parker moves quickly, grabs a glass of water with a straw, and hands it to me.
He gently raises the bed so she's reclined, and I bring the water to her lips so she can sip. She winces compulsively as she drinks, her brows tightening, eyes squeezing closed.
"Thank you, honey."
The pet name makes me smile, and I lean down to press a kiss to her hair.
"Why does everything hurt—my head, my hip..." Wendy says, her voice still a little scratchy. She reaches up a shaky hand and touches the bandage and bruised side of her head, and I catch the hand, kissing it and keeping it in mine.
"You had a pretty big accident, Mrs. Durant.
You were in a car collision and took a pretty hard hit to your side and head," Nurse Parker gently explains as he checks her vitals.
"The doctor stabilized your pelvis through surgery, so you'll be a little sore for a while, but we'll give you meds to manage the pain. "
"The accident..." Wendy frowns before flinching a little. "I remember being hit and then..."
"Everything's okay," I lean down, gently squeezing her hand and feeling so happy when she meets my eyes and squeezes back, light but there. "Everything is going to be okay, baby. I promise."
"The boys?" She asks, because of course she does.
I smile, "With their grandparents, but eager to see you later. I hear you might even be on the receiving end of a Noah Durant original work."
Wendy grins and gives a small gasp, "Ooh-la-la, what have I done to deserve a masterpiece from such a renowned artiste?"
That. Right there.
That's one of the reasons, among the innumerable list of reasons, that I love my wife.
Because even now, in a hospital bed, in pain, she can still find the energy to joke and smile. She will forever put her own pain aside to comfort and care and make someone else laugh.
I love her more than words can say, more than the stars in the sky, and there isn't a force in this universe that could ever change that.
"You exist," I tell her, leaning down to press a kiss to her head. "That's reason enough."
◆◆◆
Two days later, Wendy is moved to a regular room, for which we're all very thankful.
The ICU allows only 2 visitors in the room at a time, so when the boys visited, they had to go in one at a time. Liam had sent his brother in first, even though I knew that he was itching to see his Mama.
Noah had presented Wendy with the painting he made for her, a fiery field of orange and red and yellow flowers. She had gasped and said she loved it, asking me to hang it up for her.
It's now pinned above her bed in her room, to be admired by all.
Liam's reunion with her was more emotional, as he cuddled into her side with a couple of tears trailing down his cheeks.
She just held him with her right arm and kissed his head. I had warned the boys that she's okay, but she's hooked up to a bunch of machines and can't walk, which can be a little scary.
They reacted perfectly, not even blinking, just completely focused on their smiling Mama.
However, Liam had asked Dr. King so many questions when she came back to explain Wendy's further recovery to my parents and sons, who were there. He showed a real interest, which made my wife and I share a curious look.
Maybe if the basketball dream never takes off, he might be interested in a medical career.
My parents bring the boys by for a couple of hours now, and seeing her has really soothed their anxieties.
Now, I know they're at the house with their Aunt Taylor, who came by earlier to visit Wendy. They're grabbing some clothes for a sleepover, and Taylor said something about taking them and Birdie to the movies.
Wendy is sleeping. The doctors have said it's the best way to heal—to sleep as much as she can and move as little as she can.
I know she's itching to come home, but I have Trace working on the house, installing a wheelchair ramp and moving our bed downstairs so Wendy doesn't have to go up and down the stairs as much.
Mabel has delivered groceries to my parents' house and cooked meals to the hospital, so we don't have to eat awful hospital food, for which we are very grateful.
The way everyone has just dropped everything to help...
It just makes me feel even more fortunate to have this community of people willing to help us.
"Hey, baby brother."
The voice makes me freeze.
Turning to the doorway, I see my older brother there, looking healthier than the last time I saw him.
There's none of that grief-laden despair in his eyes, the dark circles gone, the gauntness of his cheeks gone. My brother stands there, smiling softly at me, eyes flicking back and forth between Wendy on the bed and me.
I'm moving before I even realize it, walking right into my older brother's open arms.
"Si..." I gasp, the tears welling up and spilling over fast.
"I'm here," he says, his voice firm. "It's gonna be alright. I'm here."
"How did you—"
"Mom called me, I'm sorry it took a little bit to get here," Silas says, clapping my back. "The girls are with Carrie's parents. They send their love for their Aunt Wendy and their Uncle Atlas."
"Why are you here?" I ask, pulling back to meet his eyes.
Silas shrugs his broad shoulders, putting his hands in his pockets. He's always been the more taciturn of us, hard for him to admit his feelings and be vulnerable.
Carrie and his daughters were the only ones who could pull it out of him.
"Wendy took on my girls without blinking an eye when Carrie died. I'm doing the same for you guys."
"Thank you," I whisper, and he nods once, before his eyes trail to Wendy's unconscious form.
"How's my sister?"
"Improving," I say, settling back in my chair. Wendy hasn't moved a muscle, lulled to a deep sleep by her pain meds.
"Fractured pelvis. Internal bleeding," I say. His eyes widen at those words, and I quickly add. "They fixed that, but she won't be able to walk on her own for a bit."
"Whatever she needs, she's got us to help," Silas says, his eyes meeting mine. The combination of emotions in them makes my chest hurt. Heartbreak, longing, and confidence. "Most importantly, she's got you."
I take in his words, and I instantly feel better.
Too much information from the doctors, too many words of physical therapy, aides, and mobile assistance made my head swirl enough to shut down. But now, it doesn't feel as overwhelming.
We have our family. We have our friends.
My dad is handling the shop and my clients for the foreseeable future because no way am I going to be able to work and take care of my wife, and the choice between the two is quite fucking obvious.
My mom is handling the boys now, watching them, calling their school to excuse them from attending this week.
And now my brother is here as backup for anything we need.
We're not alone.
We're going to get through this together.