Total pages in book: 150
Estimated words: 136791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
"They are?" My gaze darts to the machines, but I don't know what number means what or what they should say. Some are high, some are low. They might as well be Greek for all they tell me. After spending as much time in hospitals as I have, you'd think I'd know what they mean, but I never cared to find out. All I needed to know was that they meant I was alive. Anything beyond that was moot.
The nurse nods, giving me a gentle smile. "We let you stay for so long because she seems to find comfort in your presence here. Her blood pressure leveled out as soon as you entered the room. Her heartrate is stronger too. She knows you're here."
"She does?"
The nurse chuckles at how suspicious I sound. Can't help that shit, though. January's under heavy sedation. I'm not sure she knows much of anything right now.
"Yes," the old lady says. "Just because she can't talk to you right now doesn't mean she can't feel you here. You're good for your girl, so we let you stay."
"She's good for me," I mumble, staring down at January in the bed. I think her color is a little better, but the soft pink tint to her cheeks could just be my imagination or wishful thinking.
"You've lived a hard life," the nurse says, replacing another IV bag and then pressing a few buttons on another machine when it starts a consistent, staccato beep. "I overheard part of your story. I'm sorry for all the two of you have lost. I can't imagine that's been easy for you or for her. I hope I'm not overstepping by saying this, but we have grief counselors and psychiatrists on staff here if you'd like to talk to someone. Maybe it'll be good for you."
"I…yeah," I say and clear my throat as gratitude bubbles up hard and fast. "Yeah, I would appreciate that." I know Ames is trying to find me someone, but I'll be here until January leaves. Might as well start trying to figure my shit out now.
The nurse beams up at me, her craggy cheeks wrinkling. "I'll get some names for you. See if anyone has time to stop in and meet you and your girl today, dear."
"Thank you," I whisper. For the first time in seven years, I actually feel hope.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Cade
"Are you sure you don't want us to come back?" Tristan asks, the same question he's asked me every time I've talked to him over the last five days.
"I'm sure," I reply, giving him my usual response. As much as I appreciate him for wanting to be here for me, I know L.A. is the last place he wants to be.
It's not like there's much for him to do anyway.
January is…fuck, I don't know. They keep telling me she's improving. She looks better. But they had to rush her back into emergency surgery four days ago when her catheter began filling with blood at an alarming rate, and her blood pressure almost bottomed out. After that, every time I left the room for even a few minutes, it seemed like there was some new setback.
I finally planted my ass in her room and told them I wasn't leaving unless they dragged me out. The setback shit stopped after that. Her blood pressure has leveled out, and her heart rate is within normal ranges. Her lab work all looks good, and they removed the drain tube from her stomach yesterday. They've been slowly weaning her off the ventilator. A few hours ago, they finally took it out completely and moved her to a step-down unit.
I've just been sitting beside her ever since, fascinated by the steady rise and fall of her chest. I can't seem to tear my gaze away.
They started weaning her off the sedation meds before they removed the ventilator, but she hasn't woken up yet. She's still on a lot of pain medication, so they think it could be a little while.
I'm desperate to see those emerald eyes. It's been too long since I last gazed into them.
"You aren't coming home, are you?" Tristan asks.
"I am home, man," I say, speaking softly. "January's always been my home."
"It's about fucking time. We'll miss you around here, but that's where you belong." He pauses. "You deserve happiness."
I think I'm actually starting to believe that myself. A shrink has been by several times to check in and see how things are going. He's not terrible. I don't necessarily like the dude, but he's honest and calls me on my bullshit when I try to feed it to him. I respect the fact that he's willing to tell me like it is, even when I don't want to hear it.
It's a start.
Once January is out of here, I think I'll continue seeing him. At least for a little while. I've got a lot of shit to work out.