Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
“Tyler, how are you doing? How is your m-mother?” I asked.
The pain in my side was throbbing, and the nurse came in to take a look at my wound.
“I want to see Brody. I want him to come see his grandmother.”
“How is she, Ty—?” The nurse pressed on my stitches, and it forced me to bite back a whimper.
“I want my son to see his grandmother, Ana.”
“He can’t,” I said breathlessly.
“Why not?”
“He’s at my parents’.”
“Then I can go get him. I’ve got him a booster seat. My mother’s doing well and wants to see him, Ana.”
“Wait, she’s doing well?” I asked.
The nurse fiddled with my pain pump, switching it out for another before she pressed the button. Instantly, relief flooded my veins. I relaxed back into the pillow as she smiled at me, then grabbed my cup and filled it back up with water.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“Thank you? Who are you with, Ana? Where are you? Why is Brody at his grandparents’?”
“Because I’m not doing very well right now, Tyler.”
“Is that why you couldn't be here for my mother’s surgery?”
“No,” I said.
“Then why weren’t you here? I called you, Ana. I blew up your damn phone. Where the hell have you been? I needed you. I needed you more than anything, and then you call me—what—four days later and tell me I can’t see my son because you won’t let me pick him up from your parents’?”
“I’m in the hospital, Tyler!”
Silence fell on the other end of the line as I sighed and sank back down into my bed.
“I’m in the hospital. That’s why Brody’s with my parents. And if he’s with my parents, you don’t have a right to barge in on their time together because you want to demand his presence.”
“What hospital are you at, Ana?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes. It matters greatly. What’s wrong? What’s going on? Are you okay?”
I closed my eyes and sighed as the concern became evident in his voice.
“I’m at Ronald Reagan.”
“What? That’s where my mother is. Why didn’t you tell me? What room number are you in?”
Was this smart? Should I tell him?
“407,” I said.
“You’re not that far from my mother’s. I’m coming, okay? Stay put. I mean, just—let me in when I get there, okay?”
“Tyler, there’s something I need to tell you.”
“We can talk when I get there.”
“No, Tyler. It’s serious. It’s personal. It’s—”
But he hung up the phone before I could finish my statement.
My gaze fell out the window as my mind began to wake up. A nurse came in with my breakfast, but I wasn’t hungry enough to eat it. She set it on the table next to me and rolled it in front of my body, then left me to my thoughts again.
I didn’t know how any of this would go over. I didn’t know how Tyler would react once he figured out why I had been in the hospital. Tears rose to my eyes as I closed them, and the sound of running footsteps filled my ears.
“Ana? Ana!”
I panned my gaze over to the door as Tyler came to a halt in my doorway.
“Oh my god. Ana, are you okay?” He strode to my side and took my hand, pulling up a chair and sitting beside me. “Are you hurt? Were you in an accident? Is Brody okay?”
“Brody’s fine. I’m fine. Is the button at my side green?” I asked.
“It is,” he said.
“Can you press it until it turns red again?”
“Of course. Do you need help eating? It doesn’t look like you’ve touched your food.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You need to eat, Ana.”
Pain relief coursed through my veins again, and my eyes fluttered closed. I felt Tyler’s hand brush my hair away from my face before he cupped my cheek. I turned my face into his palm, relishing his touch. I forced my eyes open to look at him, to take in the worry that shrouded his vision.
“What are you doing in the recuperation wing of the hospital, Ana?”
I still didn’t know if I could tell him. I still didn’t know if it was smart to tell him. But the last time I had withheld information from him, it had ruined us. It had ruined my son, almost decimated our families.
I couldn't do that again.
Not to him.
“I had surgery a few days ago,” I said.
“On what? What happened, Ana?”
My jaw quivered as I pressed a kiss to the palm of his hand.
“Is your mother really okay?” I asked.
“She’s fine, Ana. Stop asking. She’s on the mend. Her transplant went well. My father’s currently calling around to rehab centers to get her enrolled as soon as she’s discharged.”
I smiled at the thought as a tear rolled down my cheek. It had worked. I couldn’t believe it had worked.
“Ana, if you don’t tell me what’s going on right now, I’m going to track down a doctor and—”