sure when I got here again, he would be able to breathe on his own. But he couldn’t.
My own breath stuttered in my lungs, making me have to suck in a ragged gasp that sounded pained even to my own ears. My legs felt like they’d been cast in concrete, and my heart felt like it was caught in a crushing grip.
“Eden, bud?” I said, my voice hoarse before I cleared my throat. The sound cracked the silence in his quiet room but only for a split second. “How are you?”
My best friend didn’t move, but I’d read that patients in comas could still hear what people around them said. Which was another reason why I’d wanted to come here so badly.
Eden’s chest moved up and down deeply and evenly when I finally moved closer to him. I sank into the chair I’d pulled up that was still there, leaning forward to fold my arms on the metal bars surrounding his bed.
“I hope they’re treating you well in here,” I started conversationally. “If not, we’ll have to kick their fucking asses once you wake up.”
The rhythmic beeping of the machines was his only response. Sighing, I lifted my ass back out of the chair because it was just too damn depressing to sit in it under the circumstances.
“I brought a book with me,” I said as I walked over to the window, opening the curtain to let some light in.
Leaning with my shoulder against the sill, I stared out at the bright blue summer sky and the blooming flowers on the trees, and I tried to remain positive. Eden didn’t look good.
He was as pale as he’d been just after I’d brought him in. His face was gaunt and his skin sallow. At least he didn’t look clammy anymore, which I was counting as a win.
“It’s a motivational book about recovery,” I told him, pulling it out of my pocket. The pages had curled, but the guy on the front cover was still grinning widely. “Don’t think it’s going to be bullshit, okay? It’s not. This guy suffered similar injuries to you, and he’s doing fine. He’s one-hundred percent back to normal.”
When Eden still didn’t reply, I opened the book and started reading. I hadn’t gotten through the first chapter when the door to his room opened. I twisted around, seeing a doctor with his head buried in a clipboard walking in.
He was quiet as he paged through test results, scratching his jaw with a pen. When he looked up and saw me, surprise flickered across his expression for a moment.
“Mr. Dobbs. I had a feeling you would be back.” His eyes darted down to the book in my hands. “What are you doing?”
“I’ve read that reading to patients in comas can help.” I inched closer to him, wondering if I’d be able to catch a glimpse of the results he had. “How’s he doing?”
The doctor opened his mouth, then shut it again. With a sigh, he moved back to the door to click it shut. “You can’t be caught in here. I understand you’re worried about your friend, but it will make things worse for both of you if anyone finds out you visited.”
“I know,” I whispered. “I just wanted to see if he was okay. Is there anything you can tell me about his condition?”
He glanced at the door, down to the book in my hands, and dipped his head back as his eyes closed. “I really shouldn’t give you any information. The best I can do is tell you that he’s stable.”
“Okay.” I nodded, swallowing heavily. “Okay. Stable. That’s good, right?”
An understanding smile spread on his lips. “Yes, Dobbs. Stable is good. I’m going to have to ask you to leave now.”
“Yeah, I know. I’ll go. I don’t want to get anyone in trouble.” Crossing to the chest of drawers beside Eden’s bed, I set the book down on top of it. “Could you ask someone to read that to him whenever they’ve got time?”
“I’ll come by myself every afternoon if no one else can do it,” he said, pointing at the door with his clipboard. “I have to get back to my rounds, and I still need to check on Phillips before I go.”
“Of course.” I turned to Eden’s bed, taking him in for a long moment. I envisioned color on his cheeks and that wide smile on his face, willing him to be sitting up by the time I could come back here again. When