Chapter 49
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Evie
Four hours later, I’m sitting in the Silverton Hospital surgical waiting room surrounded by family.
Charlie is strapped to my chest, asleep. I know I should let someone take him home, but I don’t know how to convince myself to be apart from him. Half of my heart is in the operating room and the thought of being separated from Charlie after what we’ve gone through is incomprehensible.
After Declan was life-flighted to Silverton Hospital, Charlie and I were brought in an ambulance. They transported Katrina in a separate vehicle since she had, in fact, been shot.
But she shot Declan twice, and I’m not sure how I’ll ever recover from seeing him losing so much blood while still trying to show me his beautiful heart.
I sniffle and press my hand over my mouth. My eyes are red and swollen from crying at his side, then crying as someone handed me Charlie, and on and off until this very minute.
I have lacerations on my wrists, and my shoulders are horribly sore.
I’m sure I’ll be bruised where my legs were taped.
The pain reliever they gave me helped my headache, and I managed to avoid swallowing much vodka.
I worried maybe she’d spiked it with something else, too, but in the end, I got off easy.
Charlie would be okay, too, I hoped. Time would tell, though from what everyone can see, he’s okay physically.
It’s Declan who paid the biggest price.
He’s been in surgery for several hours now, and from what they told us, it’d likely be several more, so when Sloane McCarthey comes into the waiting room, everyone sits up.
“So far, everything is going as well as it can. The bullet to his right side destroyed his gallbladder, as we thought, so they’ve removed that.
It also nicked his kidney, so that’s a bit more complex.
The good news is there’s no evidence of vascular rupture or damage, which is the most pressing concern we had.
I’m sure the surgeons will update you as soon as he’s in recovery.
But he’s stable in surgery and there’s every reason to hope he’ll come out of this. ”
Mary walks straight up to her and hugs her, Connor hovering nearby.
Sloane was the emergency doctor to triage him and help evaluate beyond what the EMTs could do during transport until she handed off to the surgical team, or so they told me.
She was incredible, and I hadn’t realized she’s engaged to Declan’s cousin Kieran, so she’s practically family.
Everyone asks questions. I’m sure they’re smart and worth listening to, but I’m so tired, I can hardly stay upright. It’s as though her saying we can expect him to come out of this sent an instant wave of exhaustion to every part of my body.
Someone taps my shoulder and I startle, jolting upright to find Clementine’s kind face smiling at me.
“Would you please let me take Charlie home? I can get him to sleep in his crib, and if he’s at all upset, I’ll just hold him. I don’t mind.”
She makes sense. As much as I don’t want to be away from Charlie, I do trust Clementine and I know it’s best for Charlie to be at home. It’s nearly midnight already, and who knows how much longer until the surgery is finished.
“I can go, too,” Finn says, his face an utter shadow of its usual good humor.
“No.” Clementine clears her throat. “I mean, you should stay here. Be with your family. I’ll take care of Charlie and I can even bring him back first thing if you’re all still here. Whatever you want.” She directs this last thought to me.
“Okay. Thank you.” My eyes brim, but I suck in a breath and hold the tears back.
“Let me help you get him into the car,” Finn says, and his tone clarifies there’s no arguing.
They carefully take Charlie from me, and though he stirs, he settles easily enough back in Finn’s arms as he follows Clementine out. I hope Charlie won’t be upset when he wakes and he’s without me, but Clementine will handle it. If he’s too upset, she’ll bring him here again. I trust her.
The night wears on with every horrible eventuality playing out in my mind. Mary apologizes for not realizing Kathy was Trevor’s mother, which is of course unnecessary since she purposefully made sure never to betray that connection. She planned this and executed it well, all until the end.
By two a.m., everyone is here save Sam, who’s at home with the girls.
I talked to her on the phone after Charlie and I got checked out, and I’m glad she’s there.
I’m also selfishly glad Grant is here, and so is Jack.
He’s somewhere looking for food, but he’s been a steady presence at my side—quiet, solid, and a comfort when I feel myself breaking.
Gus sits silently a few chairs away. He’s been quietest out of everyone, but he was here before Charlie and I were released from the ER.
May has her knees against her chest, arms wrapped around them, across the aisle from him.
Next to her, Davis has one arm around the back of May’s chair and with the other, he’s holding Eirinn.
It’s the closest I’ve seen them in months, though I’m not the expert.
“The family of Declan Ryan?” A woman in green scrubs and a surgical cap stands at the side of the waiting room.
I vault from my seat right as everyone stands. “I’m his wife.”
The family crowds around, so I add, “This is all his family.”
I have a flash of recognition. I’m his wife, and they’re his family.
And now they’re mine. It has gradually settled over me in the last few weeks, the acceptance that not only is Declan mine, but they are, too.
As I am theirs. Even in the terror of this day, I feel this recognition for the gift it is.
The doctor smiles. “I’m Doctor Herdez, and I’m the surgeon who operated on Declan. We removed his gallbladder as it was irreparably damaged. We repaired the part of his kidney that was nicked.”
She explains the caveats to his recovery from this injury in particular, the risks, what they’ll watch for. I do my best to stay focused and not grab her by the shoulders, shake her, and beg her to show me to my husband.
“He’s currently in recovery and will be there for a little while, then will transition to the ICU for a few days. We’ll observe him for the things I’ve mentioned. For now, you can see him and one or two of you can be there when he wakes up, though unfortunately not everyone.”
“You go, darling, of course,” Mary says kindly.
“Would you come with me?” I need to see him, but I don’t need to be alone for it. As a mother, I can only imagine the heartache she’s experiencing and I won’t deny her seeing her boy’s okay.
“Of course. Thank you.” Her eyes shimmer, and over her shoulder, Connor mouths, “Thank you.”
We follow Dr. Herdez down the hallway and through a set of double doors after she swipes her badge. Another few turns and we arrive in a large room separated by curtains with beds, mostly empty save one.
My heart quickens when I see him. Tears hit even though I don’t want to cry right now.
I want to rejoice that he made it out of surgery.
I want to feel relieved. But right now, all I can feel is sorrow that he’s been so hurt.
This strong, sturdy man who is so completely capable and alive looks small and ashen in the bed.
They’ve already removed his intubation tube, but he has a canula for oxygen in his nose and of course an IV snaking out from under the covers.
“He’s not moving yet. May take a while. We’ve got to see eyeballs here, if possible, before we take him into a room for the night.” This comes from a nurse who’s notating something on a computer next to his bed. “I’ll get you another chair.”
Dr. Herdez excuses herself and says she’ll be back to check on him in a bit. Nurse Erica, as she introduced herself, brings another chair, and Mary and I take our seats at Dec’s bedside.
There’s no stopping myself from touching him once they’re gone. I reach for his arm and pull in a long breath as some of the vise-like tightness in my chest eases at the feel of his warm skin.
“I’m so sorry. I should’ve known.”
Mary’s voice halts me and I move toward her, grabbing her hands. “How could you possibly have known? And it’s me who should apologize. If I hadn’t married him—” My words cut off with a soul-deep ache at the thought.
If I hadn’t married him, I would be missing so much. So much fullness and joy and delight and love.
But if I hadn’t married him, he wouldn’t be here right now. He wouldn’t be pale and wounded in this bed after literally throwing himself in front of me to save me.
“No, no. None of that.” She squeezes my hands right back and waits until I give her my eyes. “You and Charlie are a part of this family. We love you. Declan loves you. And what that woman did is her own fault. Can we agree on that? Can we agree you did nothing to bring this on yourself?”
These are words I’ve heard before, and words I do believe. I know fighting for sole custody of Charlie was right—it wasn’t vengeful or selfish. I know leaving Trevor when I did was also right, and likely the only way I made it out of the pregnancy alive.
It’s like a gift for her to say these words because it reminds me of what’s true. I didn’t cause this, and she certainly didn’t. The person responsible for all of this is Katrina Trundle, and no one else.
“Thank you. I’m so grateful to you, Mary.”
She wraps me in a hug and whispers into my hair. “Love you, darling girl.”
“Love you, too.”
And oh, how clearly I feel it, how my heart can be broken and completely full at the same time.