Twenty-Four
Sydney
“How are the patients doing today?” Gabby asked as I set my phone on speaker mode, placing it on the counter in my bathroom.
Even though Ford had told me to take all the time I needed, I’d given myself thirty minutes to shower and get dressed and return to his side of the house.
I didn’t want to take a second longer.
Because even though he didn’t want to put any pressure on me, he needed me.
Everly did too.
And in my heart, there was no better feeling.
“Eve is much better,” I told her as I rubbed lotion over my skin. “But her ribs are still so sore. Every time she moves, she winces.”
“Oh God, can’t they give her something to make this go away? That poor little girl has been through enough. This pain needs to stop already.”
“You’re telling me.” I put the lotion away and applied some deodorant along with adding serum and moisturizer to my face before I took a seat on the bench in the back of the bathroom, waiting for the slickness on my skin to dry. “It’s just going to take time. But we’re icing and giving her Motrin—that’s really all we can do.”
“And Ford? How’s he doing after surgery?”
My pillar of strength, who hadn’t even acknowledged anything was wrong with his arm until I forced him to get it looked at. Of course, that was after Everly got out of surgery and was in her hospital room and I promised him, along with his mom, that we wouldn’t leave her side while he was gone.
The way his arm had broken wouldn’t heal with just a cast. He’d needed a three-hour surgery and the insertion of several screws and a plate. He’d be wearing a cast for up to twelve weeks.
“I can see the pain all over his face even though he won’t admit it.” I sighed. “He’s far too worried about Everly to give himself any thought. At least he’s somewhat following the surgeon’s orders and taking it easy.”
“You’ve got your hands full, woman.”
I looked at myself in the mirror above the sinks. My wet hair was wrapped in a towel, pulling my forehead high. My skin dewy, giving me that perfect glow.
But underneath all this stretching and lotion were dark bags under my eyes and probably some heavy crow’s-feet.
The last week had been an emotional tornado.
My worry shifted from Everly to Ford, depending on the hour. Sometimes, I was equally sick with worry over the both of them.
They were going to be fine—I knew that.
But that didn’t mean my concern just vanished.
It also didn’t mean the accident was behind us.
Constant reminders consistently popped up, like the police who had come to the hospital to take our statements. The insurance company that Ford had to deal with to handle his totaled SUV. The news reports that had been aired across every location station since the accident was so large that it had shut down the entire road for hours.
And then there was the poor old man who had fallen asleep behind the wheel—the cause for all of this.
Nothing premeditated, nothing malicious.
Just an unfortunate mishap that could have happened to any of us.
But it’d resulted in something we would never forget.
“I do have my hands full,” I finally replied. “But as long as I can see them both and be with them, that’s all that matters.”
“Syd …”
I continued to stare at my reflection, pulling the towel tighter around me. “Yes?”
“Are you okay? I feel like no one’s asked you that question, nor have you even taken the time to think about what your answer would be. You’ve just been so focused on Eve and Ford.”
I’d been in this bathroom for almost twenty minutes, making myself smell better than I had in days, and I hadn’t thought once about whether I was okay.
I hadn’t even thought about myself.