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“Take a deep breath,” she instructs, her voice soothing, as she pulls a chair up beside the bed and sits down. “Do you remember anything that happened to you?”
I nod as the guilt washes over me. “We were in a car accident.”
“When you came in, you had a small brain bleed and a skull fracture. It’s slowly resolving on its own, but you’ve been in a coma for the past two weeks.”
Two fucking weeks...
She pauses with a sympathetic look in her eyes. “You also sustained some other injuries. You had a collapsed lung, but we were able to remove the chest tube a few days ago. You also broke both bones in your right forearm and your shoulder was dislocated and the muscles were torn. The doctors were able to perform surgery to correct those, but you have a long road ahead of you with your recovery.”
She has no idea how long my recovery really is going to be.
“What about my neck?”
“There wasn’t any significant injury. The pain was just from the whiplash from the impact from when the car hit the telephone pole.”
I stare at her, my mind struggling to process everything that she’s telling me. None of it really sinks in, because none of it really fucking matters. “What about Killian? Where is he?”
“Is that your boyfriend? The one who was driving?”
I nod, opening my mouth to demand that I see him when we’re rudely interrupted by the doctor and Lindsey following behind him. Jackie gets up from the chair beside the bed, stepping to the side as the doctor comes to stand beside my bed.
“Ainsley.” The man smiles down at me with a hopeful expression. “I’m Dr. Evans. I am so happy to see that you’re awake. How are you feeling?”
“Look, I appreciate the concern, but it doesn’t matter how I’m feeling.” My eyes move between the doctor and the two nurses. “Can somebody answer my fucking questions about my boyfriend?”
Dr. Evans glances over his shoulder at the two nurses. “Can you two give us a few minutes? And then you can finish whatever you need to do with her.”
They both nod before disappearing from the room without another word. Dr. Evans follows after them, softly closing the door behind them before turning back around to me. “Your boyfriend. He was the one driving, right?”
“Yes,” I answer him quietly as he takes a seat on the chair that Jackie was sitting on. My throat hurts so bad, but I ignore it. The pain is a welcomed feeling. “Is he okay?”
“He never came into the hospital.” Dr. Evans clears his throat, folding his hands on his lap. “I’m not sure what all you remember from that night, but they found drugs in the car and in his system. I know that they arrested him that night after the medics on scene cleared him. I’m sorry, but I don’t have any other information in regards to what is going on with him.”
“How can I find out?” I ask him, my voice frantic. “It was all a mistake. The drugs weren’t his, they were mine.”
Dr. Evans gives me a small smile. “I can reach out and see what his status is. I’m assuming that he is awaiting his sentencing, unless he posted bail.”
“I have the money. I can get him out.”
“Ainsley,” he starts slowly, his voice sympathetic. “I know that you are worried about him, but we need to focus on you right now and getting you better.” He pauses for a moment. “We also need to discuss the drugs that we found in your system.”
Fuck.
Why does it always come down to this? Regardless of what happens in life, it always comes down to my addiction and my issues. If it weren’t for me going out and getting high that night, this all would have been avoided. I know that I have a problem and it just keeps rearing its ugly fucking head at any chance that it gets.
I ruin everything that I touch.
“I know that I need help,” I admit, quietly. It hurts to say it out loud and I wish they would stop the medications so I could feel the physical pain instead of this emotional pain. “I was in an intensive outpatient program.”
Dr. Evans raises an eyebrow. “And do you feel like that was working for you? Because there were quite a few different things that came up on the toxicology screen that we did.”
I shake my head, hanging it slightly in defeat and shame. “No, I don’t think it was.”
“I didn’t think so.” He gives me a sympathetic smile. “And that’s okay. The same programs don’t always work for everyone. That’s why there are so many different options when it comes to your treatment.”
“So, what are my options?”
Dr. Evans abruptly stands up. “Why don’t you try to get some rest? I know that this is a lot for you to take on, and I think that this is a conversation we should have with your family.”
