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There would be no asking though. She will be my wife.
End of story.
Before I can think anymore into it, the nurse strolls in with the little notepad in hand checking over Birdie like she is made of glass. I suppose that is the case since she has been lying motionless in the bed for several days. If she were awake, I just know she would throw a fit about being tended to. She has always been a bit of a stubborn woman.
“Her signs are stable, but I’m afraid some of the testing is not good,” she sighs as she jots down things from the monitor onto the pad.
“What do you mean?” Brows furrowing, I grip Birdie’s hand tightly in mine. The nurse raises her own skeptical eyebrow, glancing to where my fingers are interlocked with Birdie’s lax ones. The nurse sighs heavily, her gaze flitting to the door for a moment.
“I’m not supposed to tell you this…”
“Please?” I beg, unable to handle any more waiting. Questions have gone unanswered for the entirety of Birdie’s stay, and I’m quite honestly ready to jump out of my seat to start demanding some damn answers.
“The baby…” she mutters, grabbing a syringe out of her pocket and twisting it onto the line. “Is fine. Doc wasn’t sure if you had known…”
“You’re sure?” The air stays caught in my lungs while I wait for her final acknowledgement. “How could they not know that I know? I have been begging them to tell me for the last four days!”
“Keep your voice down,” she scolds, untwisting and disposing of the line. “The doctor will be in shortly.” With that, she turns on her heel and hustles out of the room. I don’t want to rat her out to anyone, but I can’t help the tears of joy filling my eyes.
It takes a moment to digest that the tests aren’t good. I jump out of my chair, only for the doc to open the door and greet me happily.
“How are you hanging in there, son?” He asks, giving my hand a bone crushing shake. I squeeze just as aggressively, which only makes him smile wider.
“I’m alright, doc. Just waiting for her to wake up, ya know?” Even I can hear the partial hopelessness in my voice, the anguish I feel finally starting to leak from me. There is only so much I can take from not being able to hear her voice, see her beautiful brown eyes…
“It may be a little while. After conducting a neuroradiology, it appears Ms. Yarrow suffers from a Traumatic Brain Injury, or TBI. We anticipate that she will remain unconscious for quite some time, which is encouraged to give her brain and body some respite.”
“So, it could be longer?” I ask dejectedly. She needs to heal from the shit she has gone through, but I just want her to wake up. I just want to know she is going to be okay.
“Potentially, yes. She also has a clavicle grade III separation. We are going to refer her to physical therapy while she is admitted to assist in the healing process, but she may need surgery in the future. With her current…condition,” he pauses, glancing away from me for a moment to the passed-out female. I follow his gaze, watching her chest move up and down evenly. The tube in her throat surely helps with that.
“She is pregnant, isn’t she?” I whisper, knowing full well that she is carrying our baby. The nurse blabbed, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have the doctor confirm it also. My cheeks burn from the smile I’m sporting knowing that my beautiful girl is alive, then add a baby on top of that…
“She is,” he confirms. I want to shout from the rooftops, call out to the world that she is officially mine in every possible way. “But as I was saying about her shoulder, it cannot be repaired at this moment. I can say with certainty that she will need surgery in the next couple of years.”
“What does the recovery look like?” I ask, glancing over to him again. He opens his mouth to answer when a rasping gasp draws our attention. Rushing over, I place my hands on her face and watch her pupils quickly dilate. From the small amounts of medical knowledge I know, that’s not a good sign.
“Birdie,” I call, gently patting her face.
“Move out of the way!” The doctor shouts as he shoves me away from her. She struggles to breathe even more when an awful, dreadful ring echoes from somewhere in the room.
“Shit, code blue!” He shouts and starts grabbing at things in the room. The nurses flood the room, “get the crash cart!”
Slowly I’m swept from the room and into the hallway once more. Like worker bees, they fly in and out of the room as they work to stabilize her. Her heart may have stopped, but mine won’t stop soaring far too quickly. My knees no longer have the ability to hold me up, and I go crumbling to the floor in agony.
I celebrated far too soon.
A hand lands on my shoulder and my instincts kick in. Grabbing their wrist, I lift my elbow and twist downward. The person comes stumbling in front of me, landing on their knees next to me.
“Fuck!” I bark, scooting away from Massimo while he rubs his shoulder with a smirk on his face. “I’m sorry, man, I just-”
“It was my fault for coming up on you,” he cuts me off, his hand held up in the universal stop sign. “I didn’t realize you had mastered the art of jiu jitsu.”
“I haven’t. I mastered the art of ‘I seem to work with the mafia and I want to keep myself safe.’ Ya know?”
“That’s why you carry a gun,” he says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. For him, he may be able to walk around with that thing wherever he wants to go, but I can’t.
“Yeah, well, it must be nice to have privileges,” I scoff, sliding down ever further and landing on my ass.
