Page 68 of Loving Josy
I haven’t been able to stop crying since I sat down in this chair, and Violet’s arrival only slightly eases the weight pressing down on my chest. She went to get tea for both of us, leaving me with a moment to gather myself, though it’s proving impossible.
A gentle hand rests on my back, and I glance up to see Beth Ross sitting beside me. Her warm, kind eyes study my tear-streaked face. “Are you okay, honey?” she asks softly.
I shake my head as fresh tears spill over. “No,” I whisper, my voice breaking under the weight of my fear.
She pulls me into a comforting embrace. “Oh, sweetheart, everything is going to be okay. My son is strong, and you need to stay calm. Everly feels everything that you’re feeling, and this can’t be good for her.”
Her words sink in slowly. Beth Ross is an incredible woman. She and James have been nothing but supportive since Noah and I told them about the baby, and here she is, consoling me instead of the other way around.
“James is asking at the desk for an update on Noah. We need to stay calm and wait,” she says gently, pulling back to meet my gaze.
I nod, knowing she’s right. I have to calm down; for Noah, for Everly, for myself. As if she knows I’m thinking about her, Everly starts kicking furiously, her tiny movements grounding me. I sit up straight and place a hand on my belly, rubbing soothing circles.
Beth smiles. “Is she moving?”
“Yes, right here,” I reply, pointing to the spot where Everly is making her presence known.
Beth places her hand where I guide her, and Everly doesn’t disappoint, her kicks continuing with enthusiasm. “Wow,” Beth says with a soft laugh. “We’ve got an active one in there.”
I manage a small smile, wiping away my tears. “She’s always like this. Once she starts, she keeps going for hours. The worst is at night. I’ll lay down, and she’ll start kicking, which sends me to the bathroom three or four times.”
Beth chuckles. “Oh, I remember those days. The joys of creating life. Noah was the worst of all my pregnancies. Morningsickness the entire time. And when he finally came into this world, he was kicking and screaming.” She smiles wistfully. “Then he turned into my serious, brooding boy.”
I let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah, he’s definitely the brooding type.”
We share a moment of laughter before my emotions overwhelm me again, and tears spill over once more.
James returns then, his face lined with worry. “They’ve taken Noah for a CT and an MRI,” he says. “He still hasn’t woken up, and they want to rule out any internal injuries, especially bleeding in the brain or swelling.”
Beth grips my hand tightly as James continues. “The doctors said they’re also concerned about fractures or other trauma. They’ll check his spine, too, just to be safe.”
The words hang in the air, heavy and suffocating. A million scenarios play out in my mind, each one worse than the last. I clutch Beth’s hand as tightly as she’s holding mine, silently praying for the man I love to come back to me, whole and okay.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Josy
It’s been four hours, and Noah still hasn’t woken up. Every second feels like an eternity, the sterile smell of the hospital seeping into my skin and making my stomach churn. The rhythmic beeping of machines monitoring his vitals is the only sound in the room, each tone a reminder of how fragile this moment is.
The doctors came in earlier and told us they have the results from the tests they ran—tests I could barely bring myself to think about. A CT scan, an MRI, countless blood tests. All necessary, they said, to piece together what happened inside his body after the fall.
Beth sits beside me, her hands folded in her lap, her face a mix of worry and quiet strength. James stands by the window, staring out into the parking lot as if the answers might be out there somewhere. Violet and Austin left a while ago to get food, but I couldn’t leave Noah’s side. My heart aches at the sight of him lying so still, the man who is always moving, always working with his hands, now hooked up to machines that breathe for him.
When the doctor walks in, we all sit up a little straighter. His expression is serious, and my stomach twists into a tighter knot.
“We’ve completed the scans and tests,” he begins, his voice steady. “Noah has a severe concussion, which is likely contributing to his lack of consciousness. There’s also a small subdural hematoma—essentially bleeding between the brain and the skull. Fortunately, the bleeding is slow and hasn’t caused significant pressure on his brain, so we’re monitoring it closely. For now, we don’t believe surgery is necessary.”
I let out a shaky breath, though the weight in my chest doesn’t ease.
“The MRI also showed a mild brain contusion, which is bruising on the brain tissue itself,” he continues. “That’s not uncommon in falls like this, and we’ll continue to watch for any signs of swelling. As for his spine, there’s no evidence of fractures, which is very good news, but he does have a sprained neck, likely from the impact of the fall.”
“What about his arm?” Beth asks, her voice trembling slightly.
The doctor nods. “He has a hairline fracture in his right forearm. It’s already been set and splinted, so it should heal with time and rest. Overall, Noah’s injuries are serious but manageable. The biggest concern right now is the hematoma and ensuring it doesn’t worsen.”
“But why hasn’t he woken up?” I blurt out, unable to keep quiet anymore. My voice cracks and tears spill over before I can stop them.
He looks at me with a sympathetic expression. “It’s not uncommon for someone with his level of head trauma to remain unconscious for a period of time. His brain needs time to heal. It could be hours, or it could be days. We’ll be monitoring him closely and will take action if we see any concerning changes.”
