Page 96 of Unbearable

THIRTY-FIVE

Dotty

ANOTHER LOVE - TOM ODELL

I satin the dimly lit hospital waiting room, the sterile smell of antiseptic mingling with the scent of stale vending machine coffee. The hard plastic chair beneath me was uncomfortable, but I barely noticed as I picked off the fuzz from my sweater, one by one.

My mind was consumed with thoughts of Trent, lying in the ICU, fighting for his life.

It had been hours since the doctors took him into surgery. Every minute the uncertainty gnawed at me from the inside out.

I stared at the clock on the wall because when I closed my eyes, all I could see was blood.

So much blood.

I watched the second hand tick away as the waiting room filled with my family.Trent’s family.I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to hold in the fear and worry that threatened to overwhelm me.

“Dotty?” A soft voice broke through my thoughts.

I glanced up to see Noah standing there, her expressionfilled with concern. She came to Woodstone as soon as she found out I hadn’t gotten on the plane and had been with me since the moment I got to the hospital. She sat down beside me, her hand gently squeezing mine.

“Any news?” she asked quietly.

I shook my head, tears brimming in my eyes. “Not yet. They said it could be hours before we know anything.” I let my head fall to her shoulder.

She nodded, her own worry evident in her eyes. “He’s strong, Dotty. He’ll pull through.”

I wanted to believe her.

Damn, did I want to believe her.

My mind kept replaying the scene in the barn. The image was seared into my brain and would forever be a reminder of how delicate life was.

The hours dragged on, and I found myself pacing the length of the waiting room, unable to sit still. Every time the door opened, my heart leapt into my throat, only to sink back down when it wasn’t news about Trent.

Finally, the door swung open, and Trent’s doctor walked in, his expression serious. I rushed to him, my heart pounding. My brothers and Noah were right behind me.

“How is he?” Dorian asked, his voice softer than I had ever heard. Noah came up behind him, giving his arm a small squeeze.

The doctor sighed, his eyes kind but tired. “He’s stable for now. The surgery went well, but he’s not out of the woods yet. We’ll need to monitor him closely over the next twenty-four hours.”

I nodded, relief and fear swirling inside me. “Can I see him?”

“Yes,” the doctor said. “But only for a few minutes. He needs rest. Only three at a time.”

“You go, Dotty. He needs you,” Dorian said. I nodded, unable to form any words.

I followed the doctor down the stark white sterile hallways, my heart in my throat. When we reached Trent’s room, I hesitated for a moment before stepping inside.

Trent lay in the hospital bed, pale and still. His chest rose and fell with the steady rhythm of the ventilator. I approached his bedside, my hand trembling as I reached out to touch his.

“Don’t you dare give up now,” I whispered, my voice breaking. A sob rose in my throat. “Not before my mom can prove us wrong.”

I sat down in the chair beside his bed, never letting go of his hand as the salt from my tears slipped into my mouth. The machines beeped softly around us, a constant reminder of the severity of the situation. Tears streamed down my face as I watched him.

“Please,” I begged, my voice barely audible. “You have to be okay. I can’t do this without you.”

The hours passed in a blur, the steady hum of the hospital a backdrop to my silent vigil. I barely noticed when Dorian came to sit with us. Neither of us said a word. Occasionally, nurses would come in to check on Trent, but my focus stayed entirely on him.

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