Page 122 of Wrecked
My senses become overwhelmed with her scent. She’s here. My baby is here.
Drip… Drip…
I open my eyes and scan my surroundings. I’m inside our shelter. The fire burns hot beside me.
Drip.
I look up and see Ellie above me, my head lying in her lap. Her tears drip down her cheeks and onto my arms.
My girl. She’s okay.
Thank God.
“Don’t cry, gorgeous.” I give her a weak smile, startling her with my sudden alertness.
“Nate,” she breathes, relieved to see me awake. Her eyes look at me with such sorrow it makes my heart clench. “Let me see that smile, Pip. The one you only give to me,” I whisper.
She tries. She tries so damn hard to smile. But her face scrunches up as she struggles to fight her tears.
“You’re going to be okay, Nate.” She hiccups, trying so hard to put on a happy face.
“Of course I am, baby,” I lie. “What’s that smell?”
“I made a paste out of cordoncillo leaves and put it on your wound.” She sniffles. “How is your pain?”
“It feels a lot better, actually.” I’m not lying. I don’t feel the wound at all. It’s all the other things that don’t feel so great.
“I was trying to find baccharis. It treats a lot of broad-spectrum bacteria. I just…I couldn’t find any,” she says, frustrated. “I don’t know if we are even in that part of the world. I just…I need to find something stronger.” She sniffles again.
“You’re doing so great, Pip. I’m already feeling a lot better. Pretty lucky I got stranded on an island with a hot nurse,” I joke, my voice getting weaker as I fight the need to sleep.
She lets out a wet laugh, her face twisting from laughter to raw, unfiltered pain. My baby is hurting, and it’s all my fault.
I reach up, taking a strand of her beautiful auburn hair between my fingers. “I missed this the most, you know.” I take a deep, stuttering breath. “Playing with your hair as you fell asleep. I missed it every night for eight years. I’m so happy I got almost twelve…months of holding you…when you sleep.” My words filter in and out as my eyes blink heavily.
I’m not doing well.
We both know it.
“Please stay awake,” she begs through her tears. Her muffled voice is breaking my heart. “I have a tawari stew cooking, and I want you to have some. It will help your infection. You’ll get better…in no…time,” she gasps between her words as sobs rack her body.
“Okay, love. I’ll stay awake.”
A few seconds later, the world goes dark once again.
CHAPTER 50
ELLIE (11 MONTHS ON THE ISLAND)
Nate slept through the entire evening and well into the next morning. I stayed awake to monitor his breathing and pulse all night. He was feverish around dawn, so I gently woke him to take some Tylenol. He tried to refuse, but I wasn’t taking ‘no’ for an answer. When he finally agreed to take the Tylenol, he could hardly swallow it.
Still, he gave me that sweet smile, thanked me, and went back to sleep. His heartbreaking moans, as he fights his pain in his sleep, tear me apart. I just want to make him comfortable. I want to make him feel safe, the way he always has for me.
He filtered in and out of consciousness for most of the afternoon. He was able to keep down some stew, but not without complaining about the earthy taste. It’s the most I’ve been able to get him to eat, so I am hoping that’s a good sign.
He let me wash him up a little, enjoying the warm cloth as I cleaned his body. He made some very inappropriate comments the lower I got, which means hehasto be getting better. He is going to pull himself out of this, and by next week we will be laughing about the whole ordeal.
He tries to be so strong for me when he’s awake. He makesjokes, kisses my hands as they feather over his face. He even asked me to play a round of ‘Go Fish,’ a game we found in a child’s suitcase months ago. He enjoyed that game often over the last several months, even though I always win. He tried so hard to stay awake, but he fell asleep after playing for about ten minutes. When he woke up an hour later, he swore I knocked him out on purpose so that I could cheat.
