Page 6 of Conflagration
Her smile falters, but she catches herself and turns away for a moment before looking back at me—fake smile in place. “He cracked his head pretty hard on the pavement, so we’re monitoring him for bleeding in the brain. Some minor burns, a broken kneecap. His torso was pretty cut up by the glass from the window, but nothing stitches couldn’t fix. He wasn’t nearly as lucky as you, but he’s alive, and that’s what matters.”
My heart falls. Sinks to the deepest depths of my soul. If he hadn’t been there, none of this would’ve happened to him.Yeah, Ari, and if he hadn’t been there, you’d probably be dead right now.Even though we’re practically strangers, I remember Branson telling me about his family issues, and I can’t stand the thought of him lying unconscious in a hospital bed, all alone.
Spotting the wheelchair resting against the wall near my bed, I gesture towards it. “Can I see him? Please. I have to see him with my own two eyes. I have to know he’s really alive.” I’m practically begging, my voice frantic.
“I don’t think so, honey,” she says softly, looking around. “In fact, hindsight tells me I probably shouldn’t have even told you his condition. Hospital policy and all. But I thought you deserved to know he was alive. And God willing—doctors and nurses, too—he’s going to be okay.”
Before I can stop myself, I channel my inner Sandra Bullock and end up with the world’s worst case of word vomit. “Please. I need to see him. I need to see for myself that he’s fine. You see…” I pause, glancing down at my hand, thankful that, in my haste, I forgot to remove my engagement ring. Holding it up for her to see, I continue. “He’s my fiancé.” As soon as the words cross my lips, I’m mentally chastising myself, but if this is the only way I can see him, then so be it. I can’t let him be all alone. Not after what he did for me.
Her eyes widen and soften at the same time. “Oh, honey, why didn’t you say so? Some of us were wondering, what with the way he seemed to be clutching you so tightly, even while unconscious, but that was just romantic wishful thinking on our parts. Or so we thought. In that case, let me get the doctor in here to check you over and give you the all clear to at least leave your room. I know he mentioned keeping you for a few days for observation since you’re recovering from surgery. I don’t see the harm in letting you out of this room for a visit though. So sit tight, and we’ll do what we can so you can go see your man.”
As she flounces out of the room, presumably not only to find the doctor but to let the other nurses know that there’s a real-life, heroic love story playing out in their hospital, I groan inwardly, wondering how I’m going to get myself out of this one.
Not caring about anything that’s on the television, I click it off and the room descends into silence. The only noises are the sound of the clock on the wall ticking as each second passes coupled with the sound of the heart rate monitor beeping continuously next to the bed. I wait as five, then ten, minutes go by without any sign of the nurse or the doctor.
Wanting to pass the time, I decide that it’s time to get this over with. I pull my cell phone out of my purse, feeling grateful when I power it on and see that I still have at least fifty percent battery life. With a sigh, I find my sister’s number and hit the call button before I can talk myself out of it.
It rings several times, and I think I’m about to luck out and get her voicemail when she finally picks up. “Ari? Is that you?” she asks, sounding sleepy, and I cringe when I glance at the clock and see that it’s after midnight.
“Hey, Lyss,” I say, wishing my voice didn’t sound so scratchy.
“Ari? Are you okay? You sound strange? And what’s that beeping in the background?” she asks, all too intuitive. All too observant. Dammit, I didn’t even think about her being able to overhear the monitors.
“I’m okay. I promise. Look, don’t freak out,” I begin, to which she does just that. Freaks out.
“Oh my God! Ariana Genevieve Covington! You can’t run out from your wedding, taking off to who knows where, and not answer your phone for hours only to call me and tell me not to freak out. I’ve been freaking out since you left!”
God love my overdramatic sister. It’s a wonder she even let me leave her there to deal with the aftermath of my bailing on the rehearsal dinner and the wedding without so much as a note.
“Calm down, Lyss. Look, I’m fine. I promise. There was just an accident and I’m in the hospital.”
“OH MY GOD!” she shrills, and I have to hold the phone away from my ear, her shrieks causing my head to throb even more than before.
I wait a few beats until I hear silence before putting the phone back up to my ear. “Are you done?” I ask, trying not to chuckle due to the pain in my ribs.
“Ari, what the hell happened? What do you mean ‘there was an accident’? You can’t just tell me not to freak out and then dump something like that on me. What the hell happened?” she asks, sounding scared.
Tears well in my eyes, and even though I made the declaration that I need find myself and my strength, I really wish she were here with me. I wish I weren’t doing this alone. But deep down, I know it’s what I need to do.
“There was a semi that crossed over into my lane, and before I could react, it hit me,” I begin.
She listens quietly as I recall the accident, gasping loudly when I tell her about being stuck in the car, and Branson’s showing up. Every so often, she asks a question, but for the most part, she just lets me talk. I tell her everything I remember, all the way up to the nurse telling me about his condition, and she sits in silence once I finish.
“And Lyss, the weirdest thing about all this? The guy who saved me? The stranger. Well, he’s not exactly a stranger.”
“What? What do you mean? Who do you know in Nashville?”
Letting out a deep breath, I know I need to say this out loud or I’ll start thinking I’m crazy myself. She’s the only person I’ve confided in about that night—a night and a man I’ve never been able to forget, no matter how hard I’ve tried.
“Do you remember last Christmas when I disappeared from the company party?”
“Yeah. You said it was too stuffy and you were going to get some fresh air. You ended up in the hotel ba—” She stops, sucking in a deep breath. “Holy shit. Are you serious? Of all the men in the world, how in the hell did you two end up in the same place at the same time? Again? And this time, the roles were reversed and he was the one taking care of you? I’ll be freaking damned.”
That makes two of us.“I know. When I saw him, I thought I was seeing things. I do remember him saying that he lived in the Nashville area. But still. Out of all the freaking people here. And now, he’s hurt. All because of me.”
Lyssa sighs. “It’s not because of you, sweetie. He risked his life to save you, which is kind of crazy, because the guy you described to me sounded more like a drunken jerk than a real-life Superman. Makes me wonder if that night helped him as much as it helped you.”
There’s an underlying message in her words, because after I met him, the cold feet and the dread began to take hold.
