Page 38 of Until Waverly

He sat beside me and ran a few simple tests. He had me push on his hands with mine, then looked into my eyes with his light to make sure my pupils were reactive. Then he listened to my breathing and heart. “You took a nasty fall. Do you remember?”

Did I? I tried to recall the incident that landed me in a bed where I’d gone to school and worked. Images of a distraught father filled my mind. My—Joyce’s patients. Lockdown. “Shit.”

“You recall the incident. Good. That’s fantastic to hear.” He set my chart aside and folded his hands on his lap. “We’re going to have a conversation about what happened to you and why you’re still here mending, instead of at home.”

Half of me wanted to listen. The other half needed to go find my daughter. “Where’s Alandria?”

“She is safe. I’ll tell you all about her adventure next. Let’s focus on you.” He patted my hand, taking on that doctorly tone with me.

“Sure.” I tried to get comfortable but sighed when I couldn’t move like I wanted to. Dr. Jay swooped in and adjusted my position, making sure not to jostle my leg. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. As I was saying, your injury was traumatic. Not because of the moment but because of the damage. You broke a few bones in your foot and a high ankle compound fracture. When I opened your leg, I had to clean some fragments too small to put back together. For the others, I used titanium plates and screws that will be your permanent hardware.”

My ankle? I stared down at the soft cast on my leg and frowned. “Because of the man?”

“Yes,” Dr. Jay said. “He rushed the counter after the phone call with the negotiator, and you just got in the way. It was a freak accident. I’m not even sure if you tried again, you could get your legs tangled with his in the same way.”

“DaMar Hamlin,” I said with a smirk, then coughed.

Dr. Jay put a straw to my mouth, and I sipped on some water—not cold, but I didn’t care. “I’m assuming you mean the athlete who had the Commoito Cordis injury?”

I nodded, reveling in the cool sensation of the water traveling down my throat.

“Then, yes, something like that. Yours, though, was a one in a billion chance. You also on the way down took a nasty hit to the head.” He directed my attention to the lights. “These are dim for a reason. Your shades are also pulled to keep you in a controlled environment for the time being.”

“Concussion,” I said. “I remember.”

“You also have a fractured skull. Before we wheeled you in for surgery, I had a full CT scan done on you to check for any abnormal bleeds or soft tissue injuries. There is a small hairline fracture near your temporal lobe.” He pointed to the area on himself, and so much now made sense while I tried to untangle my memories.

“Figures for me. I had to be the special patient.” I sighed.

Dr. Jay laughed. “You fought us pretty good after surgery, Waverly. I wasn’t sure what the outcome would be when you finally woke up.”

“You medically sedated me.” They didn’t fully put me under, but I was asleep long enough to begin the healing process.

“We had to. You were confused. Angry. Scared. You kept yelling about Alandria and asking if she was safe. Even your mother and father couldn’t soothe you.” Dr. Jay gave me a sad smile. “For a minute there, I thought we were going to lose you.”

That scared me. I knew he wasn’t talking about death. No, he commenting about the TBI—Traumatic Brain Injury and if I’d ever come back from the brain damage. I couldn’t even imagine my life if I couldn’t be a nurse. As it was, I had metal in my leg to hold my foot to my shin. “I don’t remember any of that.”

“Good thing. It wasn’t pretty.” He cleared his throat. “So, where do we go from here? That’s always the part we talk about with patients, right?”

“Correct.” I said, worried about what he might say. I didn’t think I would be here for an extended amount of time. I had Alandria to take care of, plus work. I wouldn’t be able to do either if I was laid up. “Give it to me straight.”

“You should be able to go home in a day or two. Your pupils are still sluggish, which is expected of a brain injury. Your leg is healing. All we had left to do was see you when you woke up.”

“A day or two?” I frowned. “But my daughter.”

“You don’t have to worry about her.” Dr. Jay grabbed my chart and stood. “A nice young man comes by every day with Alandria to see you along with your mother. They have everything under control.” He pulled something I hadn’t seen off my chart and handed it to me. “Look, I’m not going to sugarcoat this for you, Waverly.”

Good, I didn’t want him to. As it was, the nice young man was probably Jackson. Which meant my mother told him about the baby, and he’d been with my mother. I really fucked all this up, and I didn’t hate the idea of Alandria being with him. I just… I got so caught up in my anxiousness and my fear, I’d never told him anything. He had to hate me by now. As much as I thought I’d mourned him after seeing him at Flame with that woman, it still hurt my heart knowing I’d only been a fling to him.

“Waverly?” Dr. Jay said. “Are you listening?”

I mentally chided myself for checking out while my doctor went over everything with me. “Sorry. I think I’m still fuzzy.”

“To be expected.” He patted my shoulder. “What I was saying is that nightmares are normal. Anxiety attacks, panic, anger—those are to be expected as you recover. This card is from a friend of mine who is a great therapist and deals specifically with PTSD patients. Call her if things get to be too much. You don’t have to worry about being judged.”

I took the card from him and stared at the woman’s name. “Valentina Giroud. Sounds French.”

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