Shitty coffee number three slid down my throat, but it wasn't enough to mask the smell of the dirty-clean hospital air. Will had been in theater for three hours, and I was stuck in a disinfectant-fragranced waiting room, my guts churning and my lips bitten with worry.
I was close to marching back to the hospital reception to ask to be taken to Will, when a nurse came in. I leaped at the door, startling her.
"Is he OK?"
"The procedure went very well, Mr Park."
"Can I see him?" I was already out of the door and pacing.
"Yes, of course. He's being brought out from anesthesia now. Let's go to the recovery room."
Just when I was getting frustrated with walking along corridors that seemed to go nowhere, the nurse stopped outside a door, and we tiptoed into a little room.
Will was asleep, propped up in the bed with his head resting on a stack of pillows. He was ghostly pale, still in his gown from theater.
"Why isn't he awake yet?"
"He was awake. It takes a little time. Press the call button if you need us, and we can discharge him when he's recovered a little from the anesthetic. He'll have muscle soreness from the relaxants, and he'll be confused and have memory loss for a few hours."
"Yeah," I said, barely listening to the nurse as she listed painkiller doses and filled in a clipboard of notes, before leaving the room.
Will's chest rose and fell slowly under the blanket. The edges of ugly thick bandages and surgical tape curled around the side of his body exposed by a gap in the gown.
My heart thudded. He was gonna be in so much pain over the next few days. I took his ash-white hand, not wanting to disturb him but desperate for him to wake up. Slowly, his eyelashes stirred, and he blinked awake.
"Hey," I murmured, adjusting Will's blanket, and gently straightening a pillow behind him.
He stared up at me, confused. Then his eyes widened, and dropped down to where his hand was nestled in mine.
"Is it OK to hold your hand?"
He nodded slowly.
"Are you in pain?"
He shook his head.
"You feeling OK?"
Another nod. He tried to talk, but a hoarse rumble came out.
"Need some water?"
He nodded again, and I held a paper cup to his cracked lips as he sipped steadily.
"Your throat's gonna hurt for a while from the breathing tube."
Will watched me with a shy smile. I smiled back at him, warm waves of pure relief washing over me. He was awake and the evil thing had been cut out of him.
"I'm gonna call the nurse so we can get outta here."
I stretched for the call button above the bed. Will's eyebrows knotted, and I sat back down, concerned.
"What's wrong?"
Will tried to speak, but only a thick rasping sound came out. On his second attempt, his voice came out deep and gravelly. "Aren't you a nurse?"
So, he did have a little confusion and memory loss. All things considered, Will had reacted pretty well to anesthetic. But me, a nurse? In a hospital? I shook my head, chuckling at the thought of avoiding vomiting for long enough to tend to the sick and injured.
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The Sigma Asset 🏳️🌈 (bxb)║AMBYS WINNER 2022
Mystery / Thriller**AMBYS 2022 WINNER** He'll never play piano again. That's what virtuoso pianist Zephyr has vowed to himself after escaping Sigma, the sprawling criminal organisation that once held him--and still holds his friends--captive in California's mega-city...
