An hour later, they move him to a quieter room for observation. The new stitches look neat but angry under fresh gauze. Pain meds drip through his IV, making his eyelids heavy while I sit on the edge of the narrow bed, careful not to jostle him.
The hallway outside is quiet now. Fluorescent lights buzz overhead and I slip out for a moment when the nurse leaves, leaning against the cold wall just past the curtain. The tears I've been holding back finally break free.
I cover my mouth to muffle the sobs. My shoulders shake as Images flash through my mind….Zane pale on our bed, blood on the sheets, the fear that gripped me when I thought he might pass out. What if we hadn't made it here in time? What if I lose him because we couldn't control ourselves?
A nurse notices and brings me water and a tissu, she rubs my back gently.
"He's stable. This is a warning, not the end. Go be with him."
