A/N
Thank you so much for your continued well wishes. I'm doing my best to write, but it's tough being so sick. Thankfully, you guys don't need to worry, I'm still ahead writing this.
Enjoy!
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The waiting room is a glaringly suffocating limbo -waiting for news, not knowing what is happening.
Most of the time, everyone is silent, a thick smog of stillness as we all sit with our thoughts, the quiet so tentative but unwilling to break, hanging by a thread.
I feel as though I've been holding my breath for hours, staring at the wall but not seeing.
The clock ticks, but the noise never registers, it's not broken; people shuffle in their chairs, their muscles aching and stiff; every now and again, Emmett huffs, restless and anxious.
Esme cries silent tears.
Carlisle's jaw is strained and tense, flexing.
I'm … I don't know what I am. For once, I wish I could feel numb. But I'm not. Not anymore. My heart is a dull thud now, steadily keeping me alive to feel everything I'm feeling. If my muscles ache, I can't feel them, my mind refusing to register the uncomfortable chair. My mouth is dry, though I continue to sip my lukewarm coffee robotically, staring blankly into space.
Rose stays, casting her blue eyes over the room intermittently, taking us all in —Edward's support system. It's a glance into his life that she's never been afforded before. I want to ask her what she's thinking, but I can't, the silence is too heavy.
I can't wrap my head around the surging emotions and thoughts that rip through me; I can't understand how we got here, why we're here; and the only person who can fill the gaps is in the operating room, clueless to our turmoil. For a moment, I envy Edward.
When the door opens, every head whips in its direction, desperate.
A doctor walks in, heading straight for where Carlisle and Esme sit, their hands clasped so tightly their knuckles are white.
Emmett launches himself onto his feet.
I can't move.
"How is he?" Esme chokes through a sob, her eyes pleading with the doctor, whose eyes scan the room and our faces, hesitant to speak. "It's okay," Esme assures him, "you can tell us all. Please."
The doctor nods, one dip of his head, before focusing on Esme and Carlisle once more.
"He's recovering in ICU. He's … stable, but his condition is precarious. We've done all we can to repair his collapsed lung and tension pneumothorax. At this stage, signs are positive that there is no hypoxic damage to his brain from the cardiac arrest. But we'll need to wait until he's awake before we can fully assess any damage that may have resulted."
Cardiac arrest? He died?
I don't hear anything else until Esme's words cut through, catching my attention.
"Can we see him?" she asks hopefully.
The doctor nods. "He probably won't wake for another twenty-four hours or so … until then, we'll be keeping him under close observation."
Esme and Carlisle quickly run from the room, the doctor and Emmett hot on their heels.
I stay rooted to my chair, so desperate to see him, to touch him, to know that he's real and he's alive, albeit under sedation. Because I'll take Edward any way I can, especially right now.
Rose moves over to sit on the chair to my right.
"You're not going?" she asks, taking my hand and squeezing it gently.
"They're his family," I tell her quietly, my tears escaping finally —I don't know if they're tears of relief or … something else, suddenly feeling as though I don't belong. I don't belong, that's the issue. I never do.
It's so selfish to think as such, but they ran from the room without a single glance in my direction, heightening every insecurity within me as they did so. Leaving me behind, like … always.
This isn't about me, but it still hurts.
"And you're his girlfriend," she tells me softly. "You should go."
I shake my head. "I'll wait. I'll … be here. Just knowing he's alive is enough."
Shaking her head sadly, she leans into me. "They probably won't let you back there anyway. It's usually only family …"
I nod, she's right. But I can wait. "You can go," I tell her. "You don't need to wait around with me. Your parents are probably worried and—"
"Firstly, I texted them. And secondly, you need someone in your corner, with you, and … I'll always be that."
A sob escapes as I fall into her; the exhaustion and worry taking hold, my emotions setting themselves free. She wraps her arms tightly around me and hugs me tight as I sob into her sweater.
—
A/N
Thank you for reading!
Jemster23 pre-reads and is THE BEST cheerleader ever!
