Chapter 34
Chapter Thirty-Four
Josy
It’s been four hours, and Noah still hasn’t woken up.
Every second feels like an eternity, the sterile smell of the hospital seeping into my skin and making my stomach churn.
The rhythmic beeping of machines monitoring his vitals is the only sound in the room, each tone a reminder of how fragile this moment is.
The doctors came in earlier and told us they have the results from the tests they ran—tests I could barely bring myself to think about. A CT scan, an MRI, countless blood tests. All necessary, they said, to piece together what happened inside his body after the fall.
Beth sits beside me, her hands folded in her lap, her face a mix of worry and quiet strength.
James stands by the window, staring out into the parking lot as if the answers might be out there somewhere.
Violet and Austin left a while ago to get food, but I couldn’t leave Noah’s side.
My heart aches at the sight of him lying so still, the man who is always moving, always working with his hands, now hooked up to machines that breathe for him.
When the doctor walks in, we all sit up a little straighter. His expression is serious, and my stomach twists into a tighter knot.
“We’ve completed the scans and tests,” he begins, his voice steady.
“Noah has a severe concussion, which is likely contributing to his lack of consciousness. There’s also a small subdural hematoma—essentially bleeding between the brain and the skull.
Fortunately, the bleeding is slow and hasn’t caused significant pressure on his brain, so we’re monitoring it closely.
For now, we don’t believe surgery is necessary. ”
I let out a shaky breath, though the weight in my chest doesn’t ease.
“The MRI also showed a mild brain contusion, which is bruising on the brain tissue itself,” he continues.
“That’s not uncommon in falls like this, and we’ll continue to watch for any signs of swelling.
As for his spine, there’s no evidence of fractures, which is very good news, but he does have a sprained neck, likely from the impact of the fall. ”
“What about his arm?” Beth asks, her voice trembling slightly.
The doctor nods. “He has a hairline fracture in his right forearm. It’s already been set and splinted, so it should heal with time and rest. Overall, Noah’s injuries are serious but manageable. The biggest concern right now is the hematoma and ensuring it doesn’t worsen.”
“But why hasn’t he woken up?” I blurt out, unable to keep quiet anymore. My voice cracks and tears spill over before I can stop them.
He looks at me with a sympathetic expression.
“It’s not uncommon for someone with his level of head trauma to remain unconscious for a period of time.
His brain needs time to heal. It could be hours, or it could be days.
We’ll be monitoring him closely and will take action if we see any concerning changes. ”
I nod, but his words do little to ease the storm inside me. Hours? Days? How am I supposed to get through this, knowing that he’s lying here like this because of me?
Beth squeezes my hand, grounding me. “Thank you, Doctor,” she says softly.
As the doctor leaves, I lean forward, resting my head on the edge of Noah’s bed. His hand is warm but lifeless in mine. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper, the words choking me. “This is all my fault.”
Beth’s hand brushes my shoulder. “Josy, you have to stop blaming yourself. None of this is your fault.”
But her words can’t penetrate the guilt weighing me down. All I can do is pray that Noah will wake up soon, that he’ll forgive me, and that I’ll get the chance to tell him how much I love him.
It’s been three days, and Noah still hasn’t woken up.
Every passing hour feels heavier, like a weight pressing down on my chest, making it hard to breathe.
I try to stay calm for Everly’s sake, but the constant worry gnaws at me.
What if he doesn’t wake up? What if this is our life now, waiting, hoping?
I haven’t left his side at all. My body aches from sitting in this chair, and sleep has been a luxury I can’t afford.
Violet stopped by this morning, bringing clean clothes and a bag of my favorite snacks, though the thought of eating feels impossible.
She’s been amazing, juggling both coffee shops like it’s nothing.
I don’t know what I’d do without her. If it weren’t for Violet, my shops would’ve been closed indefinitely.
In the afternoons, she brings Adrian along, and his energy is like a small ray of sunshine piercing through the darkness.
He’s made it his personal mission to distract me with board games and card tricks.
Yesterday, he insisted we play Uno, and for a brief moment, I actually laughed when he smugly dropped a bunch of Draw Four card on me.
After I did, I felt awful because I was laughing while Noah is still unconscious in bed.
I am in this constant battle with myself.
I know that I need to take it easy but a part of me is also trying to survive this pain.
Esteban and Austin visit every day, each bringing their own version of comfort.
Esteban always has some wild story to share, his voice filling the sterile hospital room with laughter, even if it feels misplaced.
Austin is quieter, his focus on reassuring me that Noah will pull through, though I can see the worry etched in his face.
Beth has been my rock. She’s here every morning, armed with coffee and determination.
She makes sure I eat, even if it’s just a few bites, and keeps my spirits up with her unwavering positivity.
She tells me stories about Noah as a child; how stubborn he was, how he always looked out for others.
“He’s strong, Josy,” she says often, her hand resting on mine. “He’ll come back to us.”
All of Noah’s family has been by to visit, their love and concern filling the room in waves.
His sister, Eva, has been calling nonstop from Florida.
She wants to come so badly, but Beth convinced her to stay and finish her work commitments.
“He wouldn’t want her to drop everything,” Beth explained, though I can hear the longing in her voice whenever she talks to Eva on the phone.
The nurse comes in now to check Noah’s vitals, and I hold my breath, watching her every move, hoping for some sign of change.
But when she leaves, the room feels even quieter than before.
I reach for Noah’s hand, tracing the calluses on his palm with my fingers.
“You need to wake up, Noah,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “Everly and I need you. I need you.”
The door creaks open, and I look up to see Adrian peeking in, holding a deck of cards. “Are you ready to lose again?” he asks with a grin that’s too mischievous for his age.
I wipe my face quickly and manage a small smile. “You’re on, kiddo.”
As he sets up the cards on the bedside table, I glance at Noah again, willing him to wake up and join us. I’d give anything to hear his voice, to feel his arms around me, to see him smile. But for now, all I can do is wait. And hope.