Page 13 of Scorched

Needing a brain break, she took out her phone and opened a jigsaw puzzle app. She scrolled through the pictures, finding one of the beach she liked. She was partway through reassembling it when the door opened and Dr. Demarco stepped inside.

Declan sucked in a breath, and his eyes fluttered open at the sound. He scrubbed a hand over his face as he yawned.

The doctor sat down on the stool and logged onto the computer, talking as she worked. “Okay. Your hip looks fine, but you did break some ribs. The sixth and seventh. The seventh rib is a clean break, but your sixth rib has me a bit concerned.” She pulled up his x-ray and turned the monitor so they could see it. “It’s in three pieces.” She pointed to the screen. Two obvious fractures stood out. “This piece here is slightly out of place.” She traced one of the breaks. “Normally, with this minor degree of displacement, I would recommend we do a nerve block and you take it easy for four to six weeks, but I have a feeling you wouldn’t follow orders very well.”

“So, what do you suggest, then?” Declan asked, not contradicting her, Maggie noticed. “I grin and bear it until they heal?”

“No. I think you should let me admit you for surgical repair. They’d probably do both ribs to be safe.”

“What? How is that any better?”

“I know it sounds worse, but in your case, I think it would be beneficial. You’ll get more mobility faster, and you won’t have to worry about that fragment slipping further if you don’t follow instructions. My concern is that with the angle of displacement, it’s going to slide deeper into your chest and puncture your lung. Then you’ll be in the hospital with a different set of problems. And still end up with the surgery to fix the rib.”

Declan groaned, closing his eyes. Maggie leaned forward and took his hand, sensing he needed to know he wasn’t alone. He looked over at her, then at the doctor.

“How long would I have to stay?”

“Just a day or so to make sure you don’t have any complications. I don’t see any evidence of free air in your chest, so it should be pretty straightforward. Within a few weeks, you should be mostly back to normal.”

“And if I opt for no surgery? How long then until it’s healed?”

“If you behave and don’t do any lifting, pulling, or pushing, you’re looking at four weeks minimum. And this is assuming it heals on its own. With the displacement, there’s a chance it won’t.”

He muttered a curse. “Fine. Do the surgery.”

She smiled at him. “Excellent decision. I’ll call the cardio-thoracic team and we’ll get you sorted. Hang tight.” She stood and breezed out of the room.

Maggie squeezed Declan’s hand, a little in shock herself about how things turned out.

“You okay?”

He grunted. “Peachy.”

“Look at it this way—you’ll actually heal faster with the surgery.”

“Yeah, but I still have to stay in the hospital.”

“It won’t be all bad. Macy will baby you.”

He moaned. “God, don’t remind me. The last major injury I had, she parked herself on my couch for two weeks. I love her, but I also love my space.”

Maggie giggled, and Declan smiled. “I’ll head her off.”

“How? Have you met my sister?”

“Yes.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ll tell her I’m taking care of you.”

He scoffed. “That won’t stop her.”

“Sure it will. She might come check on you, but it’ll keep her off your couch.”

“Not when she realizes you’re not there to watch over me.”

“Who says I won’t be?”

His eyes widened. “I’m not trading one pushy woman for another.”

Maggie’s lips flattened. “Well, you can either take pushy, hovery Macy, or just pushy me. Which is it?”

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