Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Jenna
“Troy?” Ugh, why do hospitals insist on such bright lights above a patient’s bed?
Oh, that’s right, so people like me can do their jobs.
“Yeah, babe, it’s me.” I feel his lips brush my temple.
“What happened? Anyone else hurt?” I try to sit up, and a gentle hand on my shoulder stops me.
“Slow down, babe. I got it.” A monitor clicks on, and the bed slowly moves my upper body.
I feel a dual pinch coming from my side, and I grab his arm.
“Shot?” I guess from the sound of shooting in my memory.
“No, stabbed.” His voice turns cold as he answers me.
“Fucker. What did he get?” My eyes are finally adjusting to the light, and I’m able to focus on Troy.
“You look like shit.” He chuckles in relief.
“You ain’t winning any beauty pageants today either, Babe.” I roll my eyes.
“So, how bad is it?” I stretch carefully, trying to judge for myself.
“Stop that. He punctured your kidney and liver.” Fucking bastard.
“Hand me my chart.” I point to the folder sitting on the COW, computer on wheels.
“No, you are the patient, not the nurse. Ask the staff when they come in all the questions you want, but you are not working on your own recovery.” His voice sounds so strong that it makes me smile.
“Been practicing that long?” He nods proudly.
“For the five hours you were having surgery. It’s the only thing that kept me sane.
Knowing that if you lived, I’d have to fight you every step of the way.
Thank you for not disappointing me.” His eyes fill with tears, and I know without a single doubt in my mind that what he really wanted to say was thank you for not dying.
“I love you too much not to make the rest of your life difficult.” He laughs and wipes away his tears.
A knock on the door breaks the moment.
“Mrs. Lambert, you are one lucky lady.” My eyebrow arches at my new name, but I don’t correct the doctor.
“Very lucky it seems.” I give Troy a pointed look.
They give me a rundown of my injuries, how the surgery went, and my expected recovery time. I argue, my limitations known damn well; I won’t listen to half of them anyway, and by the time I’m done, the doctor looks at Troy with sympathy.
“Son, I was an Army combat medic. I’ve done field surgery during a hostage negotiation that was simpler than this. Good fucking luck.” Troy glares at me while the doctor chuckles, heading for the door.
“One other thing.” He stops flipping through the chart one last time.
“Your hCG levels were elevated. Follow up with your GYN.” He lays the chart down with all the grace of someone discarding a bomb.
“So, about the last name,” Troy starts as soon as the doctor leaves, but my heart is currently in my throat, so I can’t speak.
I raise my hand with one finger up.
Am I pregnant? I’m a nurse. I know damn well what the doctor implied, but if I am, it’s only a few weeks. Normal tests wouldn’t even register it unless you’re dealing with severe blood loss.
Like someone who just got stabbed.
“Babe, you’re freaking me out. Please let me explain.
I thought you were dying, and I begged Padre to marry us on the way here.
I didn’t want to bury you without giving you my name first. I can call him and stop him from filling out the paperwork on Monday.
” My heart rate spikes as the monitors beep crazily.
“DON’T STOP HIM!” He sits back as I slap him.
“Okay?” Troy looks confused.
Aren’t we all?
“I love you. You owe me a real wedding, though. But we need to be married.” He frowns and shakes his head.
“Have to be?” I take his hand and put it on my stomach.
“I’m pregnant.” A sheepish look crosses his face, and I narrow my eyes.
“You knew already?” He nods.
“The nurse told me before you woke up. I was leading up to that. Guess that’s what the doc told you on his way out.” His eyes fill with wonder as he rubs my belly.
“Troy, it’s stupid early. I don’t want you to get your hopes up. I may miscarry.” A tear rolls down my cheek even saying the words.
“I know. I’m just happy to have this opportunity with you. I love you both so fucking much it hurts. I don’t want to spend a single moment of my life without you by my side.” He leans down and kisses me gently.
“Good thing you married me then.”