Page 220 of Between Passion and Revenge: Part Two
She reaches over and does something to the tape on my cheeks, and the next moment, the cannula is gone.
Thank. Fuck.
Without that air blowing in my nose, it feels a bit easier to talk, too.
“So, I’m gonna have to learn how to walk again?” I ask, and she gives me a small smile.
“Yes, Storm, you will,” she says. “But you can do it. It’ll just take time. Can you be patient with your body?”
Can I? I look to Shae, and she radiates love and relief. All I feel is sinking dread.
Right then, a nurse with a skin tone that reminds me of my mama hops into the room, freezes, and says, “Oh! Full house right now.”
She moves over to the side opposite Shae, and the nurse greets her warmly.
“I’ll come back for a full assessment later,” the nurse says. “My name is Kaylee, and I’ll be your nurse for this shift.”
I grunt as she fiddles with an IV pole she brings into view from behind me.
“Can I check your IV site?” she asks, and I look away from her, tilting my chin down in approval and giving all my attention to Shae, who returns my gaze with a worried look.
Kaylee presses around the back of my hand, all around the IV, then places my hand back to my side.
“I’ll come back when we have a little more privacy,” she says to Shae and then to me. Shae nods.
“Mr. Sandoval, I’ll need to change your catheters, and it’ll be a good time for a bed bath,” she says in a low voice.
“My…what?” I bark at the nurse, and to her credit, she doesn’t jump. Instead, she folds her arms and gives me a long, hard look.
I move away from it, looking at Shae.
My beautiful, perfect Shae.
The love of my life who is now attached to a man with dead legs and tubes in his nether regions.
“I need a minute,” I say. “Everyone…get out….”
Dr. Swanson, who’d been watching me silently, gets up without a word, ushering Dr. Wu and Dr. Malcom toward the door.
“We’ll be back for the next rounds,” the doctor tells Shae.
The nurse leaves, and then there’s just me and Shae.
Shae…who’s shackled to a man who can’t even roll over in bed.
“You…you can go, too,” I say. “You should go.”
I look away from her, finally turning my head completely to the side. It’s painful as fuck, so maybe I can blame the tears in my eyes on that.
“No,” Shae says brightly. “Is your mouth dry? I have some sponges here to wet your mouth until you’re cleared to drink.”
“Shae,” I grind out, still looking away. I can’t even wipe my face, as if all my muscles atrophied in the weeks of stillness.
“I’ve been lotioning your hands and legs, and we’ll have to get someone to come home with us to give you a manicure. Your nail beds are terrible, baby.”
“Shae!” I say, raising my voice but not yelling. She lets go of my hand, and I tense, instead of relaxing. But instead of heading for the door, she goes to the long counter on the far wall of the room, fiddles with something, then turns around holding a white Styrofoam cup with a small stick poking out the top.
“What are you doing?Leave.You don’t need to deal with all this. The kids—” I choke on the word, their terrified faces flashing in my mind.
