Page 95 of I Can't Even

I went and got the doctor.

My Calamity was asleep when I came back with the poor man.

“I’m surprised she woke up,” Dr. Marroni admitted. “She’s been heavily sedated.”

I watched Ellodie’s chest rise and fall, still waiting for shit to hit the fan.

There was no way it was this easy. With her injuries… there was just no way this was going to be an easy road.

“Can you tell me about the baby?” I asked. “She asked when she woke up.”

“Your son, as far as we can tell, is perfectly fine,” Dr. Marroni said as if his words hadn’t just shocked my poor, abused heart. “We did an ultrasound after she arrived, transvaginal because of the trauma she sustained.”

I closed my eyes for a few long seconds, thinking about our son.

Our son.

“What’s the verdict?” I asked, surprised at how even my voice came out.

The doctor walked up and checked her chart for a few seconds before placing it back in the holder at the bottom of her bed before replying.

“At this point, we’ve stabilized her as much as possible,” Dr. Marroni answered. “It’s a waiting game. One of the biggest obstacles that we’re about to face is infection. Dirt. Grime. Germs. All of it got into her stomach wound. Though we disinfected it as best as we could, and we’ll treat her with antibiotics preemptively, there’s still a very real possibility that she’ll get an infection.” He paused to take a breath. “Then, there’s the obvious. Bruising, contusions, broken bones. It’s going to take a very long time to heal. She’ll be in the hospital, my guess, for about a month. From there, she’ll be on strict bed rest until the rest of her heals. Her belly’s already going to be compromised because of the wound she sustained. With the baby growing, it could also put stress on the wound. The OB/GYN will be able to tell you more about what she expects after we get you out of here…”

If we get you out of here was left unsaid.

It’s kind of rude how you have to work out to be in shape.

—Ellodie’s secret thoughts

ELLODIE

I woke up in a fog of confusion, my eyes so heavy they felt like they were sewn shut.

“Why’s she tied down?” someone asked.

“The crazy bitch…” I heard a man pause. “Sorry. The crazy girl keeps trying to get out of bed. Sleepwalking through sedation is a new thing for me.”

“She wasn’t sedated when she tried to sleepwalk,” I heard my favorite person in the world say. “She was on pain meds. She’s been off sedation for a week now.”

A week?

What?

“She must be doing better if she’s finally allowed visitors, though,” the same man who’d called me a crazy bitch said. “Right?”

“Tobin?” Quaid growled. “If you don’t fuck right off, I’ll literally castrate you, and save your wife the trouble of doing it for you in your divorce.”

What divorce?

Jesus, how much had I missed?

“Sorry, sorry,” Tobin murmured. “I’m just excited.”

I wondered why he was excited, but nobody asked him why.

The next question was from another familiar voice.

Garrett.

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