Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80420 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80420 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
With my siblings and some of their spouses seated on either side of me in the long row of chairs outside the surgical doors, and the rest of our family gathered around the room, I watch my mom pace back and forth while chewing on her bottom lip. My hands ball into fists on the arms of my chair, and I close my eyes. My dad is the strongest man I know, but he’s not invincible.
Today, he decided to ride his bike to work, a gift my siblings and I got him when he turned fifty. The black Harley was his dream ride, and our mom loathed it but never deterred him from riding when he felt the urge. From what we were told, a car hit him as he got off to exit the highway. The driver of the car never checked before they changed lanes and side-swiped him. In his truck, he would have been fine, but on his bike, he didn’t stand a chance—broken bones and internal injuries. Gritting my teeth, I open my eyes, refusing to think about what could have been. Right now, I just need to trust the doctors who are currently working on him.
Feeling restless, I get up and go to my mom, and when she sees me get close, she stops and tips her head back. The pain I see in her eyes makes my chest ache. If she loses my dad, I don’t know if she will survive, and I know Dad would feel the same if the situation were reversed. They can’t live without each other; they are two halves of a whole. The love they have for each other goes beyond just to have, to hold, and to keep; it’s everlasting and something that can never be replaced.
I wrap my arms around her and pull her against me like she would do when I was a kid whenever I needed comfort. Her tears start to wet my shirt, and I fight through the pain in my chest. I know she’s worried, but I also have faith that everything will be okay, and right now, I need to be strong for her and Dad.
“Sophie Mayson.” I turn at my mother’s name and watch a short, older man who looks exhausted step farther into the room.
“I’m Sophie,” Mom says, wiping the tears from her cheeks.
“Can we talk?” he asks, glancing around before looking at her once more.
“These people are Nico’s family. You can talk here,” Mom replies, and he nods once.
“Your husband is doing great, and he’s being taken to recovery as we speak.” At his statement, Mom sags against me, and the knot in the center of my chest eases. “We thought his liver sustained more damaged than it did, which would have made things more complicated. He’s very lucky.” He glances around at everyone. “Not to say it’s going to be an easy road, but with time and some physical therapy, he should make a full recovery.”
“Thank you,” Mom chokes out, burying her face against my chest.
“When can we see him?” I ask, knowing Mom would ask if she weren’t sobbing.
“A nurse will come down once they have him settled.”
“Thank you,” I say, listening to that sentiment echoed behind me from everyone else in the room.
“You’re welcome.” He pulls a card from his pocket and hands it over to Mom, whose hands are shaking. “That has my cell number on it. If you have any questions or concerns, don’t be afraid to call.”
“Thank you,” Mom responds, and he gives her a reassuring smile then turns and leaves. Once he’s gone, the energy in the room lightens and everyone gets up to gather around Mom to share in her relief. A few minutes later, a nurse comes in to let us know that only two people at a time will be allowed in the recovery room, but once Dad is moved to a private room, he can have a few more visitors. My uncles, their wives, and my cousins decide to head home then, saying they will be back in the morning. So that with Mom understandably sticking to Dad’s side, my siblings and I can take turns visiting him in recovery.
Time seems to drag as the night wears on, and by the time Dad is situated in his room, it’s after seven at night, and I feel like I’ve spent the day on a roller coaster. Exhausted, I put my feet up on the window ledge next to where Bax and Sage are sitting and scrub my hands down my face.
“You guys need to go home.” Dad’s gruff voice breaks through the silence in the room, and I turn to find him focused on Mom, Willow, and Nalia, who are all curled up together on the bed one of the nurses made up next to his.