Chapter 26
The trauma center’s waiting room smelled like antiseptic and fear.
Susan sat with her arm around Lynda, who’d stopped shaking but hadn’t stopped staring at the double doors that led to the surgical wing.
Kathleen had gone to find coffee twenty minutes ago and still wasn’t back.
Isabel paced near the window, her phone pressed to her ear as she spoke quietly with Pastor John.
They’d been here for three hours. Three hours that felt both endless and too short, each minute stretching thin while the clock on the wall ticked forward with brutal efficiency.
A police officer had spoken to Lynda. A drunk driver had crashed into Matt’s truck, sending it over a bank and slamming into some trees. The impact had ripped the engine off Matt’s truck, and left the other driver fighting for his life.
“Ms. Morth?” A surgeon in blue scrubs emerged through the doors, his face professional but unreadable.
Lynda shot to her feet so fast she nearly stumbled. Susan caught her elbow, steadying her friend as Isabel ended her call and rushed over.
“I’m Dr. Smith.” The surgeon gestured toward a quieter corner of the waiting room. “Let’s talk over here.”
Susan felt Lynda’s entire body go rigid as they followed Dr. Smith. Whatever news came next would either give them back their friend or take him away forever.
“Matt survived the surgery,” Dr. Smith began.
Lynda made a sound that was half sob, half prayer of thanks. Susan tightened her grip on her friend’s arm.
“We stopped the internal bleeding,” the surgeon continued.
“His spleen was ruptured, and he had significant damage to his liver, but we’ve repaired what we could.
The bigger concern is the traumatic brain injury.
There was considerable swelling, and we’ve had to place him in a medically induced coma to give his brain time to heal. ”
“When will you bring him out of it?” Isabel asked, her voice steady despite the fear in her eyes.
Dr. Smith’s expression shifted, becoming even more careful. “That depends entirely on how well he responds over the next few days. We need the swelling to go down before we can safely reduce the sedation. It could be days, or it could be weeks.”
“But he’ll wake up?” Lynda’s voice was so small, so fragile, that Susan’s heart cracked.
“Ms. Morth, I need you to understand what we’re dealing with.
” Dr. Smith met Lynda’s eyes directly. “Matt sustained a severe blow to his head during the impact. We won’t know the full extent of the damage until we bring him out of sedation.
There’s a possibility…” He paused, choosing his words with obvious care.
“There’s a possibility he may not wake up at all. ”
Lynda swayed. Susan caught her before she fell, wrapping both arms around her friend as Lynda’s legs gave out completely. Isabel rushed to help, and together they lowered Lynda into the nearest chair.
“I need to see him.” Lynda’s voice broke on the last word. “Please. I need to see him.”
“Of course.” Dr. Smith’s professional mask softened slightly. “He’s being moved to the ICU now. Give us about thirty minutes to get him settled, and then one of you can go in. Only one visitor at a time, I’m afraid.”
After the surgeon left, Kathleen returned with four cups of coffee in a cardboard carrier. She took one look at their faces and set the drinks down with shaking hands.
“How bad?” she asked.
Susan filled her in while Lynda sat in the chair, crying silently, her hands covering her face. Isabel knelt beside her, one hand on her knee.
“Christmas Eve,” Lynda whispered. “We’re supposed to get married on Christmas Eve.”
No one knew what to say to that. What words existed that could make this better?
Susan pulled another chair close and sat down facing Lynda. She took her friend’s hands, forcing Lynda to look at her.
“Matt is strong,” Susan said firmly. “And he’s got every reason to fight. He loves you. He wants to marry you. That man has built a life here that matters to him, and you’re the center of it. He won’t give that up without a fight.”
“But what if he can’t fight?” Lynda’s face was streaked with tears, her eyes red and swollen. “What if the damage is too severe? What if I lose him before we even get to start our life together?”
Susan’s throat tightened. She thought about Paul, about the conversation they’d had about taking things slowly. About how he’d looked at her when he said he wanted to try building something real with her.
She thought about her own fear, the way she’d been holding back, waiting for the perfect moment to tell him how deeply she’d fallen for him. Waiting for some imaginary point in the future when everything would be certain and safe.
There was no such moment.
There might not be any moment at all.
“Listen to me.” Susan squeezed Lynda’s hands. “You and Matt found each other against all odds. Two people who’d both been hurt, who’d both given up on love, and you found each other anyway. That’s not something that just disappears because of an accident.”
“Susan’s right,” Kathleen added, moving to sit on Lynda’s other side. “Matt fights for the welfare of the animals you look after when any reasonable person would walk away. He fought for the wildlife center when the funding looked impossible. He fights for what matters to him.”
“And you matter to him,” Isabel said softly. “More than anything.”
Lynda nodded, wiping at her face with the back of her hand. “I can’t lose him. Not now. Not when we finally have a chance at happiness.”
They sat together in the harsh fluorescent light of the waiting room, four women bound by friendship and fear. Outside, the snow continued falling, covering the world in white as if trying to hide the ugliness of what had happened.
A nurse appeared in the doorway. “Ms. Morth? Your fiancé is settled in the ICU now. You can see him.”
Lynda stood on unsteady legs. Isabel started to rise with her, but Lynda shook her head.
“I need to do this alone first.” She looked at each of them. “Thank you. For being here. For driving through the snow. For everything.”
“We’re not going anywhere,” Kathleen promised.
They watched Lynda follow the nurse through the double doors, disappearing into the labyrinth of hospital corridors beyond.
Susan leaned back in her chair, exhaustion suddenly overwhelming her. She pulled out her phone and looked at her last meaningful text exchange with Paul. After Michelle’s service, she’d told him she was thinking of him.
They weren’t the words of someone who was in love or committed to a special relationship. They were the words of someone who was putting her feelings in a box and hoping for the best.
Now she started typing again.
Hi, Paul. I’m at the hospital in Polson.
Matt was in an accident. He’s in a coma, and they don’t know if he’ll wake up.
I’m sitting here watching Lynda fall apart and all I can think about is how fragile everything is.
How we wait for the right time to say what matters, and there might not be a right time. There might not be any time at all.
She stared at the message for a long moment, her thumb hovering over the send button.
I love you, she added. I should have said it sooner. I should have said it the first time I realized it was true. Life’s too short to wait for perfect moments.
She pressed send before she could talk herself out of it.
Across the waiting room, Kathleen was praying quietly, her rosary beads moving through her fingers. Isabel sat with her eyes closed, her lips moving in her own silent conversation with whatever she believed in.
Susan closed her eyes too, but she wasn’t praying. She was remembering Paul’s smile when he looked at her. The way his hand felt in hers. The sound of his laugh when she said something that surprised him.
She was holding onto those memories like lifelines, understanding for the first time how precious they were. How easily they could be taken away.
When her phone buzzed in her hand, she looked down to see Paul’s response.
I’m leaving Sapphire Bay now. I’ll be there as soon as I can. I love you too. We’ll talk when I get there.
Susan felt something loosen in her chest, just slightly. Just enough to breathe.