have assisted Remy’s brain injury in the minutes he was immersed. It may have resulted in an increase in peripheral vasoconstriction, or a narrowing of the vessels in his limbs, shunting his blood and providing an increase in the flow of blood and delivery of oxygen to his vital organs.’
Brain injury. Almost drowned. That’s almost all I hear. ‘But he’s okay, right? Rhett said he’d spoken to him?’ My head swings between the two. I know I keep asking the same question but I’m yet to receive a definitive yes.
And I need one, desperately.
‘While we might not be able to say what exactly happened, it may, in time, come back to him. But what we can say with absolute certainty is that he is a very lucky man. Thanks to the vigilance of his crew and their knowledge of Expired Air Resuscitation, the care performed was enough to trigger Remy to cough the water from his airways and begin to breathe on his own. We’re extremely lucky they found him when they did. We will be admitting him for observation. I am still concerned that his period of immersion could cause aspiration pneumonia, and that is why we will need to observe him for a while yet. But if you’d like to see him now, you may.’
I can’t speak for the knot in my throat and the fear in my belly. I manage to nod because, yes, I’d like to see him right now more than I ever have.
His skin is the colour of wax paper as I stand at the doorway. The lights in the room are low, and his eyes are closed, his head resting against a pillow, the head of the bed almost upright.
‘He looks awful,’ I whisper as I make a path to his bed, almost surprised to find his hand is warm to the touch. My gaze slips over my shoulder to where Rhett stands like a guard at the door. Where were you when he fell into the water? I quash the thought immediately.
‘I think we’d all look pretty shit after what he’s been through.’ Rhett answers in his normal register. In other words, loud.
‘Shush. Can’t you see he’s sleeping?’
‘He won’t be sleeping for long.’ His expression twists. ‘Not in here, at least.’
‘It doesn’t mean you have to talk like a foghorn,’ I retort . . . like a foghorn.
‘Ah, there she is.’
At the sound of Remy’s voice, I pivot.
‘Hey, there.’ Tears prickle against my lids, but I refuse to let them fall. ‘You know, we really ought to stop meeting in places like this.’ I tighten my hand on his as though crushing his fingers might make him understand my fear. My love. ‘Like, really.’
‘You mean in hospital.’ He winces as he turns his head my way. His eyes are rimmed red and swollen, a spectacular bruise forming on the left side of his face.
‘Yes.’ I choke back the threatening deluge of tears. ‘Let’s meet somewhere else next time you want me to hold your hand.’
‘Like dinner?’ His mouth kicks up in the corner in an attempt at a smile.
‘Dinner is better. Only don’t turn up looking like this. Because you really look like shit.’ I choke a little on the words.
‘Are you saying you wouldn’t have taken me home in March if I looked this terrible?’
I throw my arms around him as best as I can and smother my tears against his hospital gown as I shake my head. ‘I would’ve been frightened of breaking you.’ His chest vibrates under my ear as he laughs, the sound turning to a groan just as quick. ‘Get me some clothes, and I’ll take you home and show you exactly how unbreakable you make me feel.’
‘Jesus,’ comes a grunt from behind me. ‘I was gonna tell you to get a room, but you’ve already got one. I’ll be outside. Give me a shout when you’ve stopped with the dirty talking.’ With that, the door opens and closes in very quick succession without either of us looking once Rhett’s way.
I straighten and dash the backs of my hands across my cheeks. ‘If you had died, I would have been very, very angry. And you know what else?’ I take his hand in both of mine, pressing my face to his until his features become indistinct. I can’t believe I almost lost him. He would’ve died without knowing the strength of my love. ‘I would’ve been very, very sad because I love you too much to let