Page 83 of The Autumn We Fell in Love

The car dips into what my ankle tells me must be a massive hole. Clenching my jaw, I clutch the sides of my seat with both hands and settle in for what promises to be a hell of a ride.

Ash

Once we peel off the dirt road, it’s a few quick turns until we’re on the highway, rocketing for the hospital. The road is practically empty, and I edge over the speed limit the entire way. We make it to the ER in record time, and as I pull into a parking space I release a ragged breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. I’m relieved to finally have gotten Isla to help.

“That wasn’t too long of a ride,” I say, releasing my seat belt buckle. But when I turn to Isla, it feels like a stone drops into my belly. Her face is pale beneath cheeks still flushed from cold, and the sheen of sweat shines from her forehead.

“Are you okay?” I ask, panic clutching at my heart like a spectral hand. I’m half out of the car, gesturing at the automatic doors of the ER. “Should I get a wheelchair, or a nurse?”

She clenches her eyes closed and shakes her head. “No, I’m fine.” Isla offers me a smile, but it’s thin and her lips too gray for my liking. She opens her door and pivots on her seat, then stops with a cry of pain.

The hand closes tighter in my chest. Her ankle is hurting worse than it was during our trudge through the woods. I linger at the car only a moment more, then decide.

“Wait here,” I say. “I’ll be right back.” She opens her mouth to protest, but changes her mind and settles back in her seat, eyes fixed on her injured ankle.

I jog for the hospital doors and grab one of the wheelchairs waiting, folded, just inside. I kick it open and wheel it back to Isla’s side of the car. I lock it and turn to my passenger. When we get her standing, this time it’s mostly my efforts that get her there, unlike in the woods. Her knuckles are white when she takes my hand, and I can feel her shaking as I help her lower slowly into the wheelchair.

I put the footrests down. She moves her feet onto them one at a time, whimpering when it’s the hurt one’s turn.

Shit.

Her injury might be worse than I’d feared. Much worse.

Another rock plummets into my gut. As I roll Isla into the ER and she begins the check-in process, I tell myself that I’ve done all I can — I got her out of the woods and to medical assistance.

But there’s a part of me that wonders what else I could’ve done, and what I did wrong.

Isla

The hospital staff takes immediate action after Ash wheels me into the emergency room. Once they have my information, a nurse propels me to an intake room where he takes my vitals, leaving Ash behind in the waiting room. From there the nurse whisks me to radiology for a few x-rays that seem like they’re done before I can even blink. By the time he rolls me to a curtained off section of an exam room and helps me into the bed there, I feel dizzy from all that’s happened in what feels like a matter of minutes. When I glance at the wall clock with an overly loud tick, my throat constricts with genuine surprise — it’s been nearly an hour since arriving at the hospital.

A different nurse, a woman with ginger hair, crooked glasses, and a kind smile, peeks around the curtain.

“The doctor should be in to see you shortly,” the new nurse says. “She’s got another patient she’s finishing up with. Then she’ll look at your x-rays. Anything I can get you while you’re waiting? Juice or water, maybe?”

I close my eyes. The mention of juice turns my stomach. “My —“ I grope for the right words.Frienddoesn’t seem the right term for Ash, but my overtaxed brain can’t come up with anything more appropriate. “The man I came with . . . he’s in he waiting room. Can he come in here?”

Her smile broadens and warms. “Of course. What’s his name?”

“Ash.”

“I’ll bring him right back to you.”

I settle back on the scratchy-cased hospital pillows. Even simply knowing that Ash will soon be here with me somehow calms the swirling of my mind. I close my eyes against the glare of the overhead fluorescent lights. I’m unable to stop a small smile from playing over my lips at the fact that Ash is coming to my side at this very moment.

Ash

Ipace the perimeter of the waiting room, around and around, then reversing direction. I’m not sure the other people waiting appreciate it, but hell, they’re sitting in middle seats, I’m not stepping over anybody, and they must understand — it’s an emergency room for god’s sake. I’d be willing to bet that most of us are feeling something similar.

A nurse whose cheerfulness does not match well with the storm of anxiety roiling in my chest pops in.

“Ash?” she calls.

The pressure in my chest feels like it explodes, but I’m not sure into what — relief? More concern? Everything is confusing, but the nurse has called my name, which means I get to see Isla, and I latch onto this fact like the lifeline it is.

“Is she okay?” I ask as I follow the nurse.

“She’s resting, and the doctor will be in to see her soon.” I recognize the nurse’s words for the noncommittal answer she’s required to give. And yet, it calms me. I don’t think they’d bring me, a non-relation, back if things were going to hell.

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