31. Rosie

Chapter Thirty-One

Rosie

I reread Wyatt's message with tears welling in my eyes. On the heels of a shaky breath, I tapped out a reply.

Me: I did ask for space, and you gave me plenty. Honestly, I owe you an apology. The whole thing hurt that day, and it was a lot. I know my brother put you in a bad spot. I love you, and I miss you. Let's make this official-official. ??

I found the wedding ring emoticon and smiled to myself when I hit send. I had just arrived at work when his text came in. I set my phone in my locker and quickly changed into my scrubs, then checked it once more before I hopped into the shift. I tried not to be let down that he hadn't responded yet.

I was heading down the hallway to the nurses' station. It was a big circular desk with hallways branching off. I heard the sound of a siren departing the hospital as I pushed through the swinging door into the desk area. "What's our status?"

The last ER supervisor quickly updated me on the status of the most recent patients who'd been admitted. One had come in with chest pains, and another after a severe asthma attack when they ran out of inhalers because their insurance wouldn't pay for them.

I met Linda's gaze. "In the next life, can we have some type of gladiator ring where we all get to put the insurance company people in the middle?" I let out a sharp sigh. "This is life and death for her. She's had asthma since she was a little girl."

Linda pressed her lips together. "I know. Sign me up. Onto the next, we have a new kid, just diagnosed with type one diabetes. He's fighting his parents on his insulin shots. He should be ready for discharge soon. That call we just heard? Somebody got hit by a motorcycle on Main Street. Both the motorcyclist and the pedestrian were injured. I'm gonna get the hell out of here before they get back with that one. We have a full crew, and Dr. Jackson is on duty today, so you are in the best hands."

I waved her off. I knew I only had a short window before the ambulance got back, so I zipped around to check on everyone. For a brief few minutes, it was quiet. That never lasted in an emergency room, but you took the moments when you got them. I was walking back down the hallway when I heard the doors to the emergency bay opening. The EMT crew came in, racing down the hallway with two stretchers.

I was checking on the guy driving the motorcycle when I glanced over my shoulder and realized the man he'd hit was Wyatt. My stomach plummeted to my feet, and my heart felt like it might literally fall out of my chest. I froze, just as I had been about to move to put the IV needle in the man's wrist.

"Rosie!" one of the EMTs said.

I glanced over, and he must've seen the look on my face. "I got it," he said swiftly.

My hands were shaking as he took the IV needle from me. I knew what I should do was turn and walk straight away. I was trembling all over. But I couldn't. I stepped to the side of Wyatt's stretcher. They already had an oxygen mask on him. My eyes landed on a scrape on his hand, a tear in his jeans, and a small bandage on his forehead.

"What's the status?" If this crew noticed my wobbly voice, it didn't slow them down.

"Unconscious when we arrived. Came to within a minute or so. We've already contacted his family. I assume they'll be here any minute. We did the initial concussion checks, but when we moved him to adjust his leg, which is broken, he passed out from the pain. It's a clean break. We just need to get it set."

"We should do a scan for any internal bleeding," I croaked.

Dr. Jackson appeared at my side. "I'll handle this, Rosie."

"Dr. Jackson, I am?—"

He put a hand on my shoulder. "His vitals are stable. We need to set the break."

"I need you to do a scan," I pressed with adrenaline nudging the panicky feeling inside higher and higher. I was on the verge of creating a scene.

"We will. I need you to let me handle this. You can stay on duty, but you need to stay at the desk, or monitor anyone who is currently stable. That's it," he said firmly.

I was frozen in place. Dr. Jackson called a name, and someone appeared at my side and literally led me away from Wyatt.

A while later, I sort of came out of my fog. I was sitting on a chair inside the nurses' station. Everything else was carrying on around me. The phone was ringing, monitors beeping, and one of the nurses was typing and talking to someone on the phone.

I looked around, catching the eye of Harry, one of the nurses on duty. "He's fine," he said.

"How long has it been since I sat down here?"

He moved his hand back and forth. "Fifteen minutes, give or take. They've had time to do the X-ray and the scan you demanded. Dr. Jackson probably did that just as a favor to you."

Dr. Jackson's voice came from the other side of the desk. "Not as a favor to Rosie. You never know what might happen whenever someone's hit by a moving vehicle. We're going to get him prepped to set the break. He should be done in about an hour. He doesn't need full anesthesia for this, but we're going to sedate him." Dr. Jackson held my eyes as I began to stand. "You are not to come in until he's in the recovery room." With that, he hurried off.

I sat back down. "How's the motorcyclist?" I asked.

Harry replied, "Just a little banged up. He feels terrible. There were some witnesses. Apparently, Wyatt just walked into traffic while texting on his phone."

"Oh my God. Are you serious?"

"That's what the cop said," another nurse chimed in as she spun away from her computer.

"He just texted me right before my shift started. Oh my God," I muttered. I was dumbfounded. "I can't just sit here. I have to do something."

Harry caught me by the elbow as I stood from my chair. "How about you just check on things? Please do not check on Wyatt or the motorcyclist."

I knew he was right on that, but it drove me crazy not to check on Wyatt. It was a relief to have something to focus on, though. I chatted with the parents of the little boy, who was very upset about his diabetes because he hated shots. Our chest pain patient was being monitored, but he likely had a panic attack. Many people confuse those for a heart attack, so that wasn't anything unusual, but a single dose of anxiety medication had eliminated all of his chest pains and distress and his vitals were stable.

I was still distraught and concerned about Wyatt, but I felt a little steadier. I was returning to the nurses' station when I saw Cassie walking in. When her eyes landed on me, she smiled. She had her baby in a little sling across her chest.

She stopped at the desk. "I'm so glad you're here. I wanted to come in and thank everyone. I figured you might not all be on duty, but—" She let out a quick sigh. "I'm doing much better. I feel mostly normal now, and Danny is doing great."

We collectively cooed over the baby, and she delivered us a tray of pastries from Spill the Beans Café. "I figure those are popular anytime," she explained.

I was still restless and needed something to do. I lingered over the baby and walked with Cassie toward the entrance. When we stopped by the doors, she glanced over at me. I didn't know what she saw in my eyes, but she offered, "It'll be okay."

"It will?" My voice lilted up.

"One way or another. By the way, I heard you got married in Vegas." Her eyes twinkled with her smile. "Congratulations."

A few minutes later, Dr. Jackson tapped me on the shoulder where I was organizing our supply room because I was restless. I spun around. "What is it? How is he?"

"Wyatt is stable. It was a clean break. No complications. He's currently sleeping, but you can see him. I think you should officially go off the clock before you do that," he explained.

"But I'm?—"

"Going to have coverage for supervision for the shift from the lead nurse," Dr. Jackson interjected. "Go see the man you love."

A few minutes later, I walked into Wyatt's room. The hospital was at capacity, so it wasn't a private room. The man in the other bed was the guy who had a panic attack. He had fallen back asleep since I'd checked on him.

I carefully stepped behind the curtain between the two beds and rounded Wyatt's bed to stand by the window as I rested my hands on the railing. He was still asleep, likely out from the sedative they had given him to set his broken leg. His skin looked pale under the bright lighting. I lifted a hand to smooth away his mussed hair from his forehead. He must've cut his head somehow because I could feel the abraded area on his skin just inside his hairline. It had been cleaned and disinfected.

Emotion rolled up inside, a big, slow wave, catching in a high curl. "I love you," I whispered.

I smoothed one of his eyebrows with my fingertip just as his eyes blinked open. For a moment, he looked confused.

"Rosie?" he croaked.

"Hey," I said quietly. "You got hit by a motorcycle. Do you remember anything?"

Wyatt rolled his head from side to side before bringing his attention to me. "I was texting you." He blinked. "Nothing hurts right now." His lips curled in a kind of loopy smile.

I didn't realize a tear had rolled down my cheek until he tried to reach up and wipe it away. His hand landed on my shoulder instead before bouncing to land on his chest. "Don't cry. I'm fine. Why am I in the hospital?"

"You broke your leg. The motorcyclist got a little bruised up and feels terrible."

"Oh fuck. I wasn't paying attention. So what happened?"

"Apparently, you walked into the street, and the motorcyclist hit you. According to witnesses, he wasn't going very fast, and you just stepped into traffic. Dr. Jackson said it was a clean break. They did a scan, and everything else is good. The only other thing I see is this little scrape on your forehead. I'm sure you'll have some bruising because you can't just land on the pavement and not get a little banged up."

I was trying to keep it together. Really, I was, but I couldn't seem to manage it. The tears kept rolling down my cheeks. Before I knew it, I was hiccupping when I tried to speak.

Wyatt reached up, curling an arm around my waist and trying to pull me closer. "For fuck's sake," he muttered. "Can we get this bed to go up?"

I couldn't talk, but I could do that and tapped the button to raise it. A moment later, I sobbed into his chest. He kept his arm around my waist and held me close. It was only a minute or so before my burst of tears subsided.

I straightened and looked down at him. "How are you feeling?"

"Physically? Like I'm on a big puffy cloud. I can't really feel much of anything," he said.

"Good." I swallowed. "Sorry about that."

"For what?"

I could feel the gentle squeeze of his palm where it rested on the side of my waist.

"I overreacted," I explained.

Because it was Wyatt and he understood me better than myself maybe, he instantly caught up to the fact I wasn't talking about this particular moment.

"You did not overreact. That was a lot to take in. I didn't know what to do. When your brother said he wanted an opportunity to tell you, I thought he would tell you in a day or so. I felt stuck because it wasn't my secret to share."

"I know, and I understand." I leaned up, looking into his eyes. "I love you, Wyatt."

"I love you, and I always will," he said gruffly.

"You sure about that?" I managed to tease as I trailed my fingertips over the prickly stubble of his beard.

"There are a lot of things I'm not sure about, but I am sure about that. I'd break my leg all over again if that's what it takes for this."

"You didn't need to break your leg," I protested. "I was going to talk to you anyway."

"Did you get my text?" he asked.

I nodded. "Did you get my reply?"

He shook his head and promptly demonstrated just how puffy that cloud was. He tried to make some serious moves on me from a freaking hospital bed.

We had to wait a solid two hours before the hospital cleared him for discharge. Various members of his family stopped in to check on him while we waited. I even tried to get bossy and move it along, but there wasn't much I could do. Hospitals were like a tunnel. Once you were in it, you just had to go through it to get to the other side. I was beyond relieved when I could take him home with me.

I stopped by the pharmacy to pick up the medication Dr. Jackson had prescribed for pain.

A few hours later, I was so happy to have Wyatt propped up on pillows in my bed, I was almost giddy from it.