knew where he was. I didn’t know he knew where you were. I promised to take care of you, and I feel I have let you down.” He takes a seat next to me, placing his hand on mine. “Have you spoken with your parents yet?”
Getting all choked up, finding it hard to swallow past the lump forming in my throat, I try to get the words out. “Yes, I have, they are on their way. They were so surprised to hear from me. I still haven’t told them much. I’m nervous to expose them to the hell I was living in.” Shame coats my words.
“That’s good. I know that was the hardest part for you. I’m glad this nightmare is over for you, and you can go back to living your life without hiding from everything.”
“Did you talk to the doctors yet? I haven’t heard from them, and I just want to see Rig already,” I ask, feeling completely stressed out about not being able to see him, or not hearing an update.
“I have. He’s in recovery, and as soon as they can move him into a room, he’ll be allowed to have visitors. Can I ask you something, and I hope I’m not overstepping my boundaries here?”
“Of course. You probably know more than I do, but ask away.”
“What’s going on between you two? Obviously I can figure out that there is something, but he was apprehensive about telling me the whole story before he left. He has been so closed off about his personal life, his whole life. I don’t know anything.”
I think about his question before I answer it, because I don’t want to say the wrong thing. I don’t want him to think I’m not good for his son or anything like that.
“Well, from the second I met him, I knew he was something special. We didn’t get off on the right foot, but really, anybody in my situation would be hesitant about letting people in. Your son is cranky and likes things done a certain way, but he accepts me for me.” I start to get a little bit uncomfortable. Talking about my feelings is hard, especially when I haven’t resolved things with Rig himself yet.
“Do you love him?” Andrew asks flat-out.
I look from Mary to Andrew, watching their faces, studying how they’re absorbing all of this information.
“Yes, I do love him. When I started this journey, I never had the thought about finding someone who I could be with. I only had freedom on my radar, so it was unexpected. But I just can’t sit around and watch something so important walk away.”
His dad goes to say something else, but he stops when the doctor enters.
“Mr. and Mrs. Wilson, I’m Dr. Baker. I operated on your son. Do you mind talking here, or would you like to go somewhere with some privacy?” he asks.
“No, here is fine. This is Parker, she was with him when he was shot. Please tell us how he is doing.”
“Ryan is resting now. We just got him into recovery. We were able to repair the arteries and stop the bleeding, but we weren’t able to remove the bullet. His body was already so weak, and we didn’t want to keep him open any longer than necessary. We would like to remove the bullet, but right now he needs to recover, build some strength. We can discuss those options in a couple of days when he’s awake and more alert.
“When can we see him?” I ask, getting antsy.
“I would say you can see him now, just one at a time. He’s still sedated, probably drifting in and out. He might not be up when you go in there, and it’s important to make sure you don’t excite him. We need to keep him as calm as we can,” he explains.
“Of course,” Andrew says.
We follow the doctor down the long, sterile corridor. I’m kind of nervous because I still haven’t heard Mary say anything. She has remained quiet, and I’m sure she is dealing with this in her own way. She must be terrified he isn’t going to make it.
Andrew goes in first, followed by Mary. They each spend about ten minutes, trying not to wear him out. Mary walks over to me when she’s done.
“He looks good,” Mary says, her face pale. “He was sleeping while I was in there, but maybe he’ll wake up for you. If he does, let him know we are out here. I’m so glad