It’s impossible not to cry along with him.
Cupping the back of his head, I kiss the side of his face and close my eyes. Tears trickle down my cheeks as I listen to his keening sobs, my heart breaking right along with his.
Stroking my fingers through his hair, I do my best to comfort him. But there are no words.
I just have to hold him and let him know I’m not going anywhere.
I have no idea how long it takes.
My back is aching by the time he finally pulls away from me.
I want to ask him if he’s okay, but that’s the stupidest thing I can say. Of course he’s not okay. He’s completely wrecked.
Brushing the tears off his face, I then take his hand and press it to my lips, letting him know that I’m here in whatever capacity he needs me to be.
He’s still not talking, and I have to admit it’s unnerving. Wily’s usually the chatterbox of the two of us, and I don’t know how to fill this space.
But maybe I don’t have to.
Maybe just holding his hand and being with him through this is exactly what he needs right now.
The doctor finally comes to check on him, Coach Jones hot on his heels. They both look flustered, like maybe they’ve been arguing. Wily’s coach is glaring at the floor, his jaw clenched while the doctor apologizes for the delay.
“Your timing couldn’t be worse,” he explains. “We’ve just had a minivan collide with two other cars on the highway going out of town. Those surgeries take priority, so you’re going to have to wait, I’m afraid.”
“You haven’t even examined him. Is he going to need surgery?” Coach Jones growls in his throat, and the doctor gives him a look of forced patience.
“One of my residents checked him when we first brought him through, and according to her assessment, Mr. Wilson is going to need surgery. We just can’t perform it as soon as we’d like.” The doctor turns to Wily again. “I’m sorry. I know that’s not what you want to hear, but we only have so many surgeons in this hospital, and they’ll be working throughout the night trying to save lives.” He points to Wily’s knee. “We’ll manage theswelling as best we can and keep the pain meds coming. But for now, that’s all I can offer.”
I stare at Coach Jones, holding my breath as I wait for his reaction. After a painful beat, he runs a hand over his head and lets out an irritated huff while the doctor checks Wily’s chart.
My boyfriend hasn’t said a word yet. He’s just lying there like a desolate statue.
“How are your pain levels?” the doctor asks. “I can get you something stronger if you need it.”
Wily shakes his head, and I want to question his decision. He doesn’t have to be in agony.
“Okay, well, just press the buzzer if you change your mind. The nurses will continue with their regular rounds, although please be aware, the staff is under enormous pressure right now. We’ll get to you as soon as we can.”
Wily nods, and I watch the doctor clip away, his steps hurried.
Turning back, I check Wily’s expression. His eyes are closed, his head tipped back against the pillows. I’ve never seen him so pale. So sad.
This is horrible. Devastating.
“Are you okay?” Coach Jones asks.
I assume he’s talking to Wily, but when I glance up, his eyes are trained on me. I flush, my head bobbing. “Yes. I’m going to stay here.”
He didn’t ask me that, but I tell him anyway so there’s no confusion. I’m not leaving Wily, no matter what.
Coach Jones nods, giving Wily one more pained frown before softly murmuring, “I’m gonna go make some calls. But if you need anything…” He digs a business card out of his jacket pocket. “You let me know, and I’ll come right back, okay? I’ve already been in touch with his parents. They’re on their way.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, my fingers trembling as I take the card off him.
He walks away and I run my hand down Wily’s arm, curling my fingers around his listless hand and silently begging him to look at me.
But he won’t open his eyes.