In the Likely Event(19)
Because you said you were her husband.
The surgery was only supposed to take about ninety minutes, which made me start shifting my weight in the world’s most uncomfortable chair about two hours ago.
What if I’d made it worse by picking her up? Or when I pulled her out of the river?
“You’re sure I can’t get anything else for you?” a representative from the airline asked, concern and panic in her eyes. Guess we were all a little out of our depth here. She’d taken our names when we’d first arrived—I’d given her Izzy’s, and she’d hovered around the dozen or so of us who’d been sent here ever since.
According to the news, there were passengers at three of the local hospitals.
“I’m fine,” I assured her. There hadn’t been much more to do for me than the eleven stitches in my forehead.
“Okay.” Her smile was an attempt at reassurance. “Oh, and a representative from the army said they’d send someone local to get you, but that was a few hours ago.”
I tensed. I’d promised I wouldn’t leave her.
“You are”—she glanced at her clipboard—“Nathaniel Phelan, right? The one who was headed to basic training?”
I nodded, flipping my sodden wallet over in my hand. “I’m sure everyone has their hands full right now.”
She gave me an awkward shoulder pat and moved to the next passengers, while I watched the clock for another ten minutes.
“That’s him,” a nurse said, pointing to me, and my brows shot up, hoping it would be a doctor next to her, but it wasn’t.
The woman was a little taller than Izzy, with light-brown hair and worried brown eyes. The family resemblance was unmistakable.
“You’re Izzy’s husband?” she said, charging my way like a bull who’d been shown red.
I stood. “You must be the sister. Serena, right?”
She nodded, swatting a single tear off her face.
“Sorry,” I whispered. “I’m just the guy who was sitting next to her. We’re not married.”
“Obviously,” she whispered back. “I think I’d know if my baby sister was married.”
“I lied because I promised I wouldn’t leave her, and then I may have . . . forged a document agreeing to the surgery.”
Her eyes flew wide. “Surgery? All they told me when I showed up to the reunification site was that she was here. It took me about an hour to realize it was her flight, and then I’ve been running everywhere.” She closed her eyes and took a shuddering breath, reopening them when it seemed she had some control. “Tell me what surgery.”
I gestured to the chair next to mine, and we both sat. “She ruptured her spleen in the crash and broke two ribs, along with getting a concussion. She was bleeding internally.”
She nodded, absorbing the information with a calm I respected. “Okay. And you signed for the surgery?”
“I didn’t know what else to do.” I handed her the clipboard. “I’m hoping you’ll know most of that.”
“I can do this.” She stared at the forms like they were in a foreign language. “Do you think she’ll be okay?”
“I hope so. She was conscious right up until I handed her to the paramedics.” I resumed flipping my wallet in my hand and watching the clock.
“Oh God, she’s allergic to—”
“Penicillin,” I finished for her. “She told me. They know.”
She sat back in the chair and stared at the door, the one the surgeons had been coming in and out of the last few hours. “Lucky she was sitting next to you.”
“I’m not sure I’d call anything about today lucky, except that we’re somehow alive.”
“That’s the luckiest you can be.”
The door to the left swung open, and two uniformed men walked in wearing camouflage. My stomach hit the ground.
“Nathaniel Phelan?” one of them asked, scouring the room.
“That’s me.” I lifted a hand and stood.
“Hell of a day you’re having. Are you cleared by medical to leave?” one of them asked.
I nodded. “Just needed stitches.”
“Good. Let’s get you out of here.” He motioned to the door.
Picking up the clear bag of my personal items, I walked over to them. “Is there any way we can wait? The woman I was sitting next to is in surgery.”
They shared a look, and I knew it wasn’t going to go my way. “Is she your wife?”
“No.” I shook my head.
“Mother? Sister? Daughter?” the other asked.
“No. I’m just worried about her.”
Sympathy knit his brow. “I’m sorry, but we’re tasked with getting you out of here, and if she’s not next of kin or a blood relative, we really need to go. Orders are orders.”
My chest tightened, and I nodded. “One second.” Serena was still filling out forms when I reached her. “I have to go.”
She looked up at me, her eyes a shade lighter than Izzy’s. “Thank you for taking care of her.”
“Just . . .” I shook my head. Fuck my life, I couldn’t even ask her to call and tell me if she made it out all right. “Just tell her that I didn’t want to go, but orders are orders.”