Page 1 of A Love Song for Dreamers

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I’ve never watcheda ballet with bloodbefore.

But that’s what thisis.

The two EMTs move around Tyler in a dance they’ve rehearsed, one I’ve never seen and have no part in. He’s strapped to a stretcher and lifted into the back of an ambulance. One of the techs, a woman, asks me questions about whathappened.

I try to answer, but I can’t take my eyes from Tyler—not when they put a mask over his face that hides his shallow breathing or when the lights inside the vehicle make his pale face look yellow. After the stretcher is locked in place in the ambulance, the vehicle takesoff.

I want to hold him, but there’s so much blood. It covers his dark dress shirt, making it stick to his torso and hisarm…

My stomachlurches.

They’ve got his shirtsleeve up and his arm lifted in theair.

I perch on a stool near Tyler’s face, but his eyes are closed. I clutch my necklace hard enough my knuckles go numb, as if I can rewind time, can bring us back to the restaurant or the theater before a man I’ve never met ripped my reality inhalf.

“Hey, you,” I murmur, brushing Tyler’s damp hair away from his forehead. “It’s going to beokay.”

My heart’s in my throat. I used to hate how it raced for him. Now I’d give it to him if it would bring color back to his paleface.

They hook him up to something, and a monitor beeps in slow intervals in thecorner.

The vehicle bumps every now and again, and every time, the gurney jumps with it. I want to tell them this should be easier on him, but they’re working away, one on each side, and the monitor continues to beep, and I can’t even watchthem.

In minutes or hours, the vehicle stops. The back doors swing wide, and a serious-looking man in scrubs eyes the scene inside the ambulance, his gaze findingme.

“Miss, you need to move out of theway.”

I stumble out of the ambulance and watch them lower Tyler to the ground, adjust the bed, and wheel him inside. I follow until they swing through a set of double doors, where I’m stopped by the same man fromoutside.

“I need to stay with him,” Iinsist.

“Are youfamily?”

“He doesn’t have anyoneelse.”

His eyes soften. “Can you help with medicalhistory?”

I follow him to chairs in the waiting room around the corner, answer his questions as best Ican.

Still, I don’t know if Tyler’s parents or grandparents had heart disease. If he’s ever had a reaction tomedication.

What I do know is that he’s strong and resilient and brave. That his smile fixes every problem I’ve everknown.

I know I love him and if he’s not okay, I’m going to stopbreathing.

Finally, the man sets down the clipboard. “Thank you. We’ll let you know when we have more. If you need to leave, please see the administration desk first.” He nods toward a window on one side of theroom.

I pace the hallway. There are people in beds outside of rooms.Is that what’s going to happen toTyler?

I find my way to the desk. “I’m here with Tyler Adams. He’s in the emergencyroom.”

“I don’t have any updates on Mr. Adams at thistime.”

“I know, but… he needs the best careavailable.”

She pulls up a file on her computer. “Of course. All of our patients receive the best care our hospital can provide. Does he haveinsurance?”

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