Page 124 of Fall to Me
With my head still buried in my hands, I nod.
“She heard you. Thank you.”
“Let me know if you need anything. Bye,” Teagan whispers and ends the call.
I try to force air into my lungs, but my breaths are too short. Panic claws up my throat, and my heart feels like it’s being torn out of my body. This limbo of not knowing what’s going on with him is making me lose my damn mind.
Aspen pulls up to the double doors. I fling the car door open and take off running as fast as my feet will carry me. I skid to a stop, and my hand reaches out and clings onto a passing nurse’s arm.
“My husband is Carter Graham. Is he here?” My voice cracks.
She points me in the direction of a young woman sitting behind a thick glass with a little metal circle in the center. I race over to the window.
“I’m Carter Graham’s wife, River Graham.”
Her skeptical gaze scans me as I stand in front of her with tear-stained cheeks, messy hair, and in pajamas.
Aspen moves in behind me and says, “I’m Aspen Miles, the owner of the Blaze hockey team. This is Carter’s wife, River. My husband Callan Miles called and said the ambulance was bringing Carter here.”
The young woman’s frown relaxes, and she slips away from her station. A few seconds later, I hear a beep, then the wooden door opens, and she strides over to us. She looks around to seewho’s listening before speaking low where we can barely hear her. “Callan Miles is in the OR waiting room down the hall to the left. I’m sorry, I?—”
Her voice trails off as I take off running down the hallway, looking through every open door on the left, until I see Cal, hunched over in a chair. As I enter the waiting area, his chin lifts and his red-rimmed eyes meet mine.
“They won’t tell me anything,” he chokes out, his shoulders shaking as tears roll down his cheeks.
“I’m going to go find someone who can fill us in,” Aspen’s strained voice calls out behind me right as a door in front of me opens and a doctor steps into the waiting area.
“The ER registration clerk informed me Mr. Graham’s wife was here.”
“I’m his wife.” I rush over to him.
“Hi. I’m Dr. Thatcher, the ER doctor,” he greets, shaking my hand. “Mr. Graham was brought in by ambulance and taken directly into surgery upon arrival. I spoke to the EMT tending to him in the ambulance and was told the bullet entered through the right side of his chest and exited through his back. I don’t know much more than that, except due to the extensive loss of blood, he went into hypovolemic shock and the paramedics on the scene gave him blood on the way here. In full transparency, they almost lost him on the way, and right now, he’s in critical condition. I’ll let the surgeon know you’re waiting in here, and he’ll be in to talk with you shortly.”
Aspen wraps me in her arms and thanks the doctor while I bury my face in her shoulder, begging and making trades with God or whatever higher power exists.
Over the next few minutes, all our close friends and family arrive. There’s not an empty chair in the waiting room. Not that I need one. I’m too nervous to even think about sitting down. For the past couple of hours, I’ve been wearing out the tiled floor,pacing back and forth and waiting for someone to come in and give us some sort of update. My stomach is in knots, and I feel like I’m going to be sick.
The door opens, and a man in green scrubs steps into the room, swiveling his head as he looks around. I stride over to him.
“Mrs. Graham?”
My heart rate spikes. “Yes.”
“Hi. I’m Dr. Richards, Mr. Graham’s surgeon. The surgery was a success, and he’s in recovery right now.”
“Oh, thank God.” I breathe, placing a hand to my chest.
He continues. “We’ll be moving him to the ICU within the next hour and monitor him there for the next couple of days. Once we move him, you will be able to see him, but we’ll have to ask everyone else to leave until he’s in a regular room.”
“But he’s going to be okay?” Cal asks, taking a place at my side.
The doctor smiles as he looks around the room full of burly hockey players and says, “I expect him to make a full recovery.”
“Thank you. Thank you so much.” My voice cracks as tears spring to my eyes and spill over onto my cheeks.
He smiles and asks, “Do you have any questions for me?”
“I’ll have to get back to you on that. I can’t even think straight enough to formulate coherent questions right now,” I cry, shaking my head. “I’m just relieved.”
