She chuckled softly and dropped a kiss to my head. “I’d expect nothing less.”
It kept raining. The sound was a constant dull beat against the window as I continued to sit beside Daniel’s bed. The ward was quiet aside from the busy tasks of the nurses and doctors as they came and went. Daniel drifted in and out, mostly out. His eyes would open, his weary gaze finding mine, occasionally looking around the room, then closing again. He muttered incoherent words at times, and other than the random groan or mutter, was silent.
The chair I sat in was uncomfortable, but I refused to move. I held his hand, stroked his arm and head at times. He seemed to like it, his breath leaving his body in a long sigh as my fingers combed through his hair in gentle passes. I would get up and stretch, sip at some water, then return to his side. They assured us he would be fine. His body needed the rest. He would wake up in short order, and be more coherent.
It took me a long time to convince them, but finally Julie and Sean left after I assured them I would be staying. The ICU ward wasn’t full, and although it was against the rules, I had managed to convince the staff to allow me to stay, since Daniel was in a private room, and I was very quiet.
It was now the middle of the night. I had been at the hospital for eight hours, waiting and watching, needing Daniel to wake up and say my name. I had kept myself together, for the most part, shedding some tears of worry in the bathroom. I had cried when I called my parents, who had immediately offered to return, but I assured them if I needed them I would let them know. Their offer, however, meant one thing to me. They liked Daniel and wanted to be there as much for him as for me. They had gotten along very well after the first disastrous meeting, seeing him for everything he was—kind, caring, and as in love with me as I was with him.
“Don’t cry, Sprite.” Daniel’s low, raspy voice, broke the silence.
I sat up, startled, gripping his hand tighter as I stood.
I hovered over him, and caressed his face. “You’re awake.”
“Sort of.”
I bent down to brush my lips over his cheek. “I’ll take it.”
He cleared his throat, and I reached for the ice chips, sliding one between his dry lips. He hummed in appreciation, opening his mouth for another one.
“I’m sorry I upset you.”
“Stop it.”
He tugged at my arm, asking me silently to come closer. I leaned in, lifting his hand to my mouth, kissing the bruised knuckles.
“What do you need? Are you in pain? Can I get the nurse?”
“No. I need you to know . . .” He cleared his throat again, the sound rough. I gave him more ice chips, letting the cold soothe his pain. When he spoke, his voice was quiet.
“I wasn’t speeding. A deer ran out in front of me and I swerved to avoid it. I lost control.”
“I know. The doctor said you couldn’t have been going too fast or the damage would have been much worse.” I hesitated, gathering myself, because “much worse” had deadly implications. “Your truck is totaled, though.”
“Damn. I liked that truck.”
“It doesn’t matter. The truck can be replaced, you can’t. You’re here and that’s all that matters.”
“Yeah.” He exhaled. “I remember the deer and the rest is a blur. I sort of recall being airborne and the world spinning.” He licked his lips. “I woke up here.”
“Don’t think about it. You need to concentrate on healing and feeling better.”
He looked down at his body with a grimace. “Do I want to know?”
I listed his injuries with a steel resolve to stay calm. “You’ll be off work a while. You won’t be able to drive, either.”
He frowned. “How will I come get you?”
I rolled my eyes. That was what he was worried about?
I cradled his face in my palms, and met his gaze. “You don’t have to come get me, Daniel. Not anymore.”
“Why?”
“Because I will be right there with you.”
“I don’t understand.”