Chapter Twenty-Nine
Jesse
Two hours later, Janine and I sat together in the waiting room, holding cups of coffee from the vending machine in the hall.
A roast beef sandwich and two dark chocolate bars had brought me back to life.
I’d forced Janine to eat a sandwich and a few bites of chocolate, too.
Sebastian was still in surgery, and my anxiety level increased with each passing minute.
The waiting room was crowded. What tragedies had brought these people here?
What lurked behind their tired eyes and hunched backs?
Everyone spoke in hushed voices, the atmosphere reminding me of my dad’s funeral, where everyone whispered, especially those closest to me.
Did they think I was made of glass and that the very sound of their voices would shatter me?
They’d been right. I’d never felt more fragile than I had that day—until now.
My senses were so heightened I could hear each movement of each hand of the clock mounted on the wall, opposite our uncomfortable chairs. The hands inched around in endless circles, measuring life and death.
Janine slid her phone back into her bag. She’d been texting someone, and now she turned her attention back to me.
“My friend Kim will pick up the kitten from the vet’s and keep him at her place for tonight. She has two cats. Robin will feel at home.”
“Thanks for taking care of this, Janine. I haven’t even thought of poor Robin.” I propped my elbows on my knees, burying my fingers in my hair. “Some cat mom I am, huh?”
She patted my bare knee. “You were too busy saving his dad’s life. Are you feeling better now?”
“I am. I was just a bit weak and dizzy, but that’s passed.”
Actually, I’d almost fainted when I’d gotten up after giving blood.
Anxious to get news about Sebastian, I’d stood too quickly and my vision had faded to black.
However, the nurse knew her donor idiots well and caught me expertly, making me lie down again.
She’d wanted to give me an IV, but I refused.
Instead, I chugged two bottles of fruit juice to prove I didn’t need an IV to get fluids into me.
The last thing I wanted was to be tied to that bed any longer.
After the juice and some food, most of my physical state improved.
The only thing getting worse was the knot in my stomach and the tension running from the follicles of my skin to the deepest nerve endings in my core.
I had to see Sebastian. I had a visceral need to know he was alright.
What if something had gone wrong during the surgery?
What if the blood hadn’t been enough? What if he was already dead, and no one had told us?
I was driving myself crazy. I sprang to my feet and walked over to the large window. I’d learned this route so well in the past hours I could do it with my eyes closed.
The door to the waiting room opened, and I turned to see who it was, my neck familiar with this repetitive motion. This time, it wasn’t in vain. I didn’t know Sebastian’s doctor, but when Janine rushed over, I knew this had to be him.
He was in his late forties, with salt-and-pepper hair, and a matching beard. His eyes looked surprisingly alert, considering that he’d had his hands in people’s innards all day long.
“Doctor, do you have any news about my brother?” Janine asked.
The doctor looked down at the papers he held.
“I do.” His voice was a calm, reassuring baritone. “Mr. Wright is out of surgery and has been transferred to the Intensive Care Unit. Everything went well. We’ve repaired the femoral artery, and my colleagues from Orthopedics set his shoulder. We’re monitoring him closely.”
His gaze moved to me, as I exhaled a breath that came straight from the bottom of my heart.
Janine wrapped her arm around my shoulders. “Thank you, doctor. This is Sebastian’s girlfriend.”
The doctor’s eyes brightened. “Ah, Ms. Nielsen. You donated some of the blood for Mr. Wright’s surgery. How are you feeling?”
“I’m much better now, thank you.”
He must have sensed my shock at his use of my name.
He smiled. “Nurse Bishop informed me that you’re a regular blood donor.
I can’t tell you how much we appreciate people like you.
Your generosity and selflessness save lives.
Doctors can only do so much. I hope you’ll continue to donate, and after this experience, perhaps you’ll spread the word and bring more friends with you next time. ”
“I will,” I promised. “Thank you, Doctor, and thank you for saving Sebastian’s life. Can we see him? Or at least, one of us?”
I realized I wasn’t family, but if Janine got to see him, I would still be grateful.
The doctor nodded. “You can both see him, but only one at a time, and only for a couple of minutes. Which of you would like to go first?”
I nudged Janine. “You go first.”
Gratitude filled her eyes, and she squeezed my shoulder. “Thanks. I won’t be long. You’ll get to see him, too.”
After she left with the doctor, I returned to my seat. I finally understood the meaning of the expression ‘weak with relief.’ Following hours of tension, my muscles relaxed and I let my head fall back against the white cement block wall. My body went limp.
He was okay. He was alive. I was going to see him in a few minutes.
I didn’t have the energy to swipe at the tears sliding down my cheeks.
No matter what Janine said, I would never stop blaming myself for his accident.
But all that mattered now was that Sebastian was alive.
I didn’t consider recovery time or the ordeal that would follow.
I didn’t think of anything except thanking God and the Universe for saving him.
I drank some water and wiped my face. When Janine returned, her face was radiant.
I hurried to my feet as she signaled to me.
“Come on, Jesse. I’ll show you to the ICU, and a nurse will guide you from there.”
“Did you see him? Is he awake? How is he doing?” My questions tumbled one over the other.
She nodded, smiling. “He’s okay. He’s going to be alright. He can’t wait to see you. Actually, he’d dozed off, and when I came in, he called your name before he realized it was me.”
She hadn’t said it with any malice. My heart sang with joy. I was the most important person on Sebastian’s mind.
“Thanks for telling me that, Janine.”
We stopped in front of the door to the ICU, and Janine pressed a button.
“Yes?”
“Here to see Sebastian Wright,” Janine answered.
When the door opened, she pushed me toward the nurses’ station and stepped back. “Go and see your man.”
With one last glance at her, I stepped forward.
A nurse welcomed me warmly. “You’re here to see Mr. Wright.”
The hushed conversations and controlled atmosphere in the corridor lent an air of reverence to the area.
“He’s doing quite well after surgery,” the nurse said. “Follow me.”
My heart beat madly, but my steps were filled with determination. I was nervous about seeing Sebastian. I had to keep a straight face, even if he was badly hurt. I had to handle this calmly and remind myself his injuries were temporary.
Following the nurse, I used hand sanitizer, rubbing the disinfectant all over my fingers and under my nails. No one wanted germs in here.
The nurse led me down the corridor to the ICU. We stopped at the door to Sebastian’s room. His name was on the whiteboard, along with information about his care plan and the visitation rules.
My heart tightened as I stepped into the room and saw Sebastian connected to monitors and IV lines. His eyes were closed. He was very pale, but he was still the most handsome guy I’d ever seen.
The nurse touched my arm gently. “He’s still sleepy from the medication and anesthesia.
You can sit with him for a few minutes, hold his hand if you’d like, but please don’t touch anything else, and be careful not to disturb the equipment.
Keep your voice low and reassuring. I’ll be back in a couple of minutes,” she added with a kind smile.
“Thank you.”
“He’s been asking for you. You’re a lucky woman.”
It was my turn to smile. “I am. Thank you so much.”
The nurse left, and I stepped closer to Sebastian’s bedside.
Although I’d been terrified that I would lose my shit, an eerie state of calm descended over me.
The lower side of his body was covered by a sheet.
Under it, I detected substantial bandaging around his left thigh.
His left shoulder was bandaged and secured to his body by a sling.
The black ink of his tattoos contrasted with his ghostly pale skin.
To me, he’d never looked more beautiful. He was alive. Had the paramedics on the scene and doctors not acted as quickly, had he been unable to get the blood he’d needed from myself and other donors, the man I loved could have been lifeless right now.
Sebastian opened his eyes. The sparkle in them was dim, but it grew bright when he saw me.
His cracked lips curved into a smile. “Hey, babe. How are you doing?”
I forced a smile and sat gingerly on the bed next to him. I took his right hand in mine, careful not to disturb any of the tubes and wires surrounding us.
“Probably not as bad as you,” I said.
I restrained myself from crushing his hand and throwing myself on top of him to hug him until I cracked the rest of his ribs.
His hand was bruised, the knuckles scraped. He had a Band-Aid on his forehead and another on his left cheekbone.
“How are you feeling?” I stroked his hand as gently as I could.
His lack of strength as he squeezed my fingers worried me.