Page 121 of Versions Of Us

I try again anyway, but just as it had with EJ, the call goes to voicemail. I leave a message telling her to call me back urgently.

I’m upset that Henley’s family won’t be here when he wakes up.

Ifhe wakes up.

No.

When.

I silence the voice of doubt in my head. He will get through this. We’ll get through it together.

I try Mackenzie’s number again. I’d tried to call her in the car on the way here, but she isn’t picking up either. I sigh as it goes to voicemail again, then I leave a message for her too.

Liv storms back into the waiting room carrying three small coffee cups. She hands one to each of us. “Have you heard anything yet?” she asks.

The way she grips EJ’s hand hurts my heart. What if Henley never gets to feel my hand in his again?

“No. He’s still in surgery,” EJ answers.

Another hour ticks by and I’m sure I’m not going to have any nails left by the end of the day the way I’m nervously biting them down.

Finally, a surgeon appears. We all stand, eagerly awaiting the news of Henley’s condition. EJ places a gentle arm around my shoulder as he approaches.

“Are you relatives of Alex Henley?” the surgeon asks.

“Yes,” I answer automatically, then realise I need to correct myself. I’m not a relative but I’m the closest thing he has to one right now. “I’m his girlfriend.”

“Oh,” the surgeon replies. “Does he have any family here?”

My shoulders slump. I’ve watched enough TV medical dramas to know they aren’t going to tell me anything because we aren’t blood related.

Liv speaks up as EJ’s tries to comfort me. “His family couldn’t be here. We’re all that he has right now.”

“I understand,” he nods. “But I’m only supposed to give out information to family.”

“Can’t you tell us anything?” I throw my head into my hands in despair.

We’ve been waiting here for hours, and this jerk isn’t even going to tell us whether he’s okay.

“Dr. Harris,” I hear a familiar voice boom from down the corridor. “This young lady is very important to Alex. Perhaps we could bend the rules given the circumstances.”

I look up to find Victor Petersen standing over us, clipboard in hand, looking as authoritative as ever. I give the surgeon a hopeful look. I can’t bear to hear bad news. “Please tell me he’s okay.”

The surgeon wears a grim expression. “As you know, Alex sustained two serious stab wounds to his right side. There was significant damage to his right kidney, part of the liver as well as the large and small bowel. We’ve done everything we can, but he has suffered extreme blood loss.”

My heart races as the surgeon rattles off the extent of Henley’s injuries, my anxiety escalating with every word.

“We were able to stop the bleeding, but he isn’t out of the woods yet. The next twenty-four hours are crucial, and we’ll know more after that.”

“Can I see him?” I plead.

Dr. Harris turns to Victor as though asking for permission. Victor gives a quick nod.

“Okay, I’ll allow it,” the surgeon agrees. “But be aware, he isn’t conscious, and it will be sometime before he wakes up.”

“Okay,” I nod, chewing nervously on my bottom lip.

He leads me down the corridor to the room that Henley occupies. I pause at the door, mentally preparing myself for what I might be about to witness. I take a deep breath as I round the door frame and step into the room.

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