My eyes felt heavy, my head was banging and throbbing.
“Where am I?” I muttered, my voice sounding like a constant hum, I doubt anybody would be able to make sense of the words I was trying to say.
Fighting the urge to keep my eyes closed, I opened them. Instantly, I was hit with the bright white of the lights. I force my eyes tightly shut. It was too much. They hurt.
Inhaling deeply, I slowly opened them again. This time, I took a moment to let them adjust. Looking round the room, my heart dropped when I saw I was lying in a hospital bed by myself. I was all alone. My hand instantly moved to my bump, my eyes following when I felt my heart beat slow. He was still in there. He was safe. But where was Preston?
The soft kicks against my hand gave me the reassurance I needed. Even though I could hear his heartbeat through the monitor that was next to mine, I still wouldn’t have relaxed until I felt him move.
Letting my head fall back to the pillow, I took a moment to let all of this sink in. Then it hit me like a speeding freight train that was passing through the station. The crash. Panic rose once more, bile racing up my throat as I felt the burn. It didn’t matter how much I swallowed it down, I couldn’t stop it.
“Preston,” I called out to the empty room, trying to sit up, I cried out in pain. “Preston!” The tears were falling, I had no control. I was too overwhelmed. I had no idea what had happened to him, did he make it out of the crash?
Turning my head, I saw the call nurse button. I pressed it over and over again.
“Help!” I cried, my thumb still hitting the button as the buzzer rang and echoed around the room.
An older nurse came darting through the door, the look of sheer panic and concern written all over her face. Grabbing my chart from the bottom of my bed, she scanned through it, flicking the pages.
“It’s good to see you awake,” she smiled, stepping across the room and towards my bed. Pulling a torch from her pocket she shined it in my eyes, making me squint and pull away.
“How’s the pain?” she asked, as she went back to jotting notes down on her clipboard.
“Fine,” I bite. I lied. It wasn’t fine. I was in complete agony. But I wasn’t going to tell her that. All I cared about was my son and Preston.
Her eyes find mine for a moment and I glower at her.
“Where is Preston?”
Her eyes drop to her clipboard for a moment, breaking our glare.
“Where. Is. Preston?” I grit out, my own frustration taking over me.
“He is in ICU,” she sighs, no emotion in her voice. To her, it was nothing. To me, it was my whole world. Popping the chart back into it’s holder at the end of the bed, she turned to face me.
“ICU?” My voice was barely a whisper. Intensive Care Unit.
“How is your head?” she asks, completely ignoring my question. She moves her hand to my head and gently looks through my hair. I wince and tug away from her, the burning sensation rips through my scalp. The fuck?
“Why is Preston in ICU?” I ask another question.
I bring my hand to my face and jump at the pain I felt. It splintered through me.
“Why does my face hurt?” My eyes widen as I look at her.
“You took a lot of force from the dashboard before the airbag deployed. You have broken a cheek bone and your nose. You’re going to be sore and bruised for a while.” I could hear the sympathetic tone of her voice. Now she wants to show some emotion.
“Preston,” I cry, and this time, I choke out the sob.
“Once you have eaten, I will take you to see him. He has been asleep for a few days now, as have you…”
“Sleep?” I can’t even fathom to string sentences together.
“Like I said, you took the brunt from the dashboard when the other car hit you. Were you not strapped in? Leaning down? Bent over?” Her questions attacked me.
My mind flashes back to the crash, replaying it over in my head.
“I was leaning down to get water. I looked up just as I saw the car in front of us.” I swallow the lump back down into my throat.
“You split your head from your crown, down to your front hairline. We had to take you to theatre and stitch the wound with staples.”
My eyes widened in horror, my hand automatically moving to the top of my head, my fingers skimming over the metal that was literally holding my scalp together. I winced, my heart thumping in my chest as I pulled my fingers away as if the staples had just burned my skin.
“I need to see Preston,” I throw the covers back, trying to get out of bed and scream as pain slices through me from my ankle up to my hip.
“You also broke your knee cap.”
My eyes narrow on her, “Get out.” I snap.
“Sorry,” she is taken aback by my order.
“Get. The. Fuck. Out.” I scream. “It has taken for me to move, or ask you a question to find out what happened to me. I don’t want you looking after me, get me someone else,” I cry, the hot tears rolling down my cheeks. I screw my face up and let them fall, palming them away occasionally. I’m scared, I’m nervous, I am in pain, and I just want to know Preston is okay.
“I just want to see him,” I whisper sob, “I need to tell him how much I love him.”
The nurse scarpers out of the room leaving me alone once more.
