“How’s my favorite patient today?” Brent asks as he breezes into my room midafternoon after already keeping me in the hospital for two nights.

“You’re only saying that because you made me stay an extra night. I was ready to go home yesterday. And now you show up late in the day instead of first thing in the morning.”

“No, you weren’t ready to go home before today. You still had a fever yesterday, and your immune system is compromised enough as it is. You needed the fluids and meds to help flush the flu out of your system. Looks like your fever has stayed below 100 degrees all day today. That’s a good sign. How do you feel otherwise?”

“Much better. Good enough to go home today. Right now.”

“Okay, Grace. I’ll start your discharge papers. Call your husband and let him know he can take you home in about an hour.”

“Thank God. I miss my bed so much.”

“But if you have any change in temperature, you call me immediately,” Brent demands with a pointed look.

“Yes, Dr. Evers. I promise I will take good care of myself. While I love working here, I don’t like sleeping here at all.”

When Brent leaves my room, I immediately call Blake to give him the good news. But his tone when he answers concerns me.

“Hey, babe. Sorry I’m not back yet. One call led to another, and now everything just feels like a huge clusterfuck. Is everything all right?”

“I’m better than all right. Brent just said I can go home today. He said you can pick me up in about an hour. Does that work for you?”

“Of course it does. For you, I’ll make it work.”

“Want to tell me what’s going on at work?”

“Sales are down in my territory. That means my work ethic is being questioned, my commitment to my doctors, my allegiance to the company. Everything. There’s fierce competition in pharmaceuticals, and getting doctors to switch brand-name drugs they’re used to prescribing is hard sometimes.”

I think about all the years Blake has worked in a job he doesn’t love but has been successful at nonetheless. For possibly the first time ever, I consider what it would be like to spend the majority of my life being trapped in a position that sustained my family’s way of life, but left me completely unfulfilled. That’s where Blake has been for far too long—stuck in that disappointing rut between dreams and reality.

“What can I do to help?”

“You’re already doing it, babe. You’re coming home. Let me finish these couple of emails I’m working on, then I’ll be on my way.”

“I’m so ready. Don’t forget about me. I’ll see you soon.”

“Not a chance. I’ll fly like the wind. I love you, babe.”

We hang up, and I impatiently begin preparing myself for discharge as much as I can. If the nurse on duty hadn’t taken all the medical supplies I tried to pilfer, I could remove my own IV and save her the trouble. And save myself some time. Instead, I stop the pump and disconnect the line so I can at least change into my street clothes. With everything packed, I wait on pins and needles for my discharge. I’m so ready to get home and get started on our lists, even the TV can’t hold my interest.

When my nurse finally enters my room, she stops and looks at me, fully dressed, and shakes her head. “You know, I get the feeling you’re ready to skip out on me.”

“Leslie, I love you, but I don’t want to see your face while I’m on this side of the door ever again.”

We both laugh, and she goes through her required spiel of making sure I understand the discharge orders. When she reaches the page for my responsible party and driver to sign, I explain Blake is on his way back.

“You know I can’t discharge you without knowing you have a ride. Dr. Evers will have my head.”

“Take me downstairs, and we’ll wait for him. He’s already on his way, I promise you. He can sign the papers while I jump in the car and lock the door.”

“You’re just getting over a high fever. I can’t let you sit outside until he gets here, Grace.”

“Fine. I’ll text him to meet us at the ER. We can sit inside and watch for him through the ambulance bay doors. I’ll stay warm, and we can stay out of their way behind the nurses’ desk.”

“Oh, all right. I could use a break anyway. Only for you, though.”

“Ha. Only because you’re eyeing that handsome intern down there. You’re not fooling me, missy.”

“Busted. Guilty as charged. Now let’s go find Dr. Sexy and Single while we wait for your husband.”

Leslie pushes the wheelchair, and I send a quick text to Blake, letting him know where to find me. When we arrive in the ER, Leslie parks me behind the desk and takes the vacant seat beside me.

“Look, Grace, there he is.”

I look up from my phone after checking to see if Blake has read my message yet and find the intern Leslie is fawning over. He is very good-looking, I must admit. But he’s too young for my taste. He’s closer to Leslie’s age, young and not as experienced with how cruel life can be as I am. After he casually glances around the room, his gaze lands on Leslie first then on me sitting in a wheelchair in the emergency department.

His eyebrows draw down, unsure if we need help or if we’re just visiting, so he strolls over to chat with us.

“Afternoon, ladies. Can I take your order?” Dr. Sexy-and-Single Terry Bowers asks.

“I’ll have a signed hospital discharge with a side of my husband driving me home, please.”

“Same for me, so I can rid of the worst patient I’ve ever had,” Leslie jokes.

“The service in this hospital is terrible. Did anyone here actually go to medical school? Or did you all buy your degrees online?” I shoot back with a smile.

Terry sits on the desk beside Leslie, and the three of us laugh, shoot joking barbs back and forth at each other, and chat about my disease status since there are no secrets among medical friends. Leslie animatedly tells us about another one of her patients then abruptly stops talking.

“You are a horrible influence, Grace! I’m late getting back to work from my break. You’re going to get me in trouble. Where is that husband of yours?”

My eyes shoot to the clock on the wall, and I’m alarmed at the amount of time that’s passed while Leslie, Terry, and I have been chatting. Blake should’ve been here long ago. I jerk my phone out of my pocket and see no missed calls, so I quickly dial his number, but it rolls to voice mail after several rings.

A sinking feeling grows in the pit of my stomach where my heart has dropped. This is out of character for him—for the last few months anyway. Since we’ve reconnected. Since we’ve reconciled. Where is he?

“You can go on back up if you need to, Leslie. I’ll keep her chart and get him to sign when he gets here. That’ll give me an excuse to take a break and head up to your floor,” Terry says.

“Sounds good to me. I’ll see you soon, then. Grace, you take care, and call me if you need anything.” Leslie gives me a quick kiss on the cheek and rushes back upstairs before her fellow nurses page her over the hospital intercom system.

Right now, I wish I had an intercom to reach Blake. Where could he be?

I try calling him again, but there’s still no answer.

Then I hear the wail of ambulance sirens approaching from a distance. The times I’ve had to rotate to the ER to help with multiple injuries are ingrained in my mind. Approaching sirens alert everyone to get ready—something serious will burst through the ambulance bay doors any second. The teams are ready with their gowns and gloves on.

“What’s going on? I didn’t even hear the call come over the radio while we were talking.”

“MVA. Several vehicles. Multiple injured and a couple of casualties.”

MVA. Motor vehicle accident.

Dear God—Blake.

No!

I watch with bated breath as the first ambulance rolls into the covered bay, and the staff members rush to open the doors from the inside. The first patient is a middle-aged woman, her blond hair matted to her head with dark red blood. The paramedic keeping a quick pace at her side continues to squeeze the bag, forcing oxygen into her lungs while the emergency room doctor begins calling out orders to the team.

The second ambulance roars to a stop, and the paramedic driving rushes to the back to open the door and help pull the gurney out. Then I see him.

I’m not breathing.

I can’t remember how to breathe.

The black hair.

The scruffy beard.

“Asystole… Intubated… CPR at ten minutes twenty-seven seconds now… Trauma to head, neck, and face… Multiple contusions, lacerations, and broken bones… Pupils dilated and fixed—no reaction to light or pain stimulus.”

I hear the medical report in short bursts, but I’m unable to process all the words. As an ICU and ER nurse, I’m trained to deal with life-and-death situations. I’ve worked numerous codes under immense pressure, following the protocol and remaining level-headed but focused.

But at this moment, I can’t remember a single step in the process.

The team works together to move him from the ambulance gurney, and I sit in stunned silence. A needle is jabbed deep into his chest and medicine is administered to try to restart his heart, but the monitor continues to show a flat line move across the screen. Inside my head, I’m screaming for help—save him—but no words will pass across my lips.

The ER doctor stops all efforts. “Let’s call it. We’ve done all we can do. Time of death is 5:22 p.m.”

Then I spring into action, jumping up from the wheelchair and running to the trauma bay where his lifeless body is still surrounded by medical personnel.

“Blake! No! Please, God, no! Don’t do this to me! You have to save him—you can’t give up on him! Blake!”

My face is wet with tears, and they drip off my cheeks onto the floor. The staff stares at me with understanding but sorrowful expressions, silently telling me they can’t do anything else to save him. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know too much time has passed without a heartbeat. I know he wouldn’t want to live in a vegetative state even if they could restart his heart now. But it’s my heart that won’t accept it. I’ll take him any way I can as long as he doesn’t leave me now.

My knees give out, and I crumple to the floor in a heap of screams and wails, calling his name over and over.

“Grace? Are you hurt? My God, what happened? Talk to me, Grace!” Strong arms reach under my arms and lift me off the floor, pulling me up to my feet.

“Blake, don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me.”

“I’m not going anywhere, babe. You’re scaring me, though. What’s wrong? What the hell is going on?”

The frantic voice behind me finally registers in my panicked brain, and I whirl around in his arms. Tears of grief and sorrow instantly turn to tears of relief and immense joy. I lift my hands, letting my fingers trace along the scruff of his beard up to his bald head. Then I remember—he shaved his black hair off for me.

“Blake? I thought—I thought… You’re okay. You’re not hurt.”

He pulls me tighter to him when my emotions overtake me again, calmly assuring me that we’re both fine, then pulls me out of the room so the staff can finish their job. I can’t make my arms release him even long enough to look at him. Not even to walk out of the ER after he signs my discharge papers. Not as we cross the parking lot toward his car. He opens the passenger door for me to get in, but I’m still shaking too hard from that terrible experience.

“Grace, you have to talk to me, or I’m taking you back inside. You’re scaring me.”

My teeth are chattering, but not from the cold, making it hard to speak. “Y-you were l-late. I-I couldn’t r-reach you. Th-then I s-saw that man d-die. I th-though I’d l-lost you.”

He wraps his arms around me again, cocooning me in his protective embrace, and kisses the top of my head. “I’m so sorry, babe. Rob called me while I was on the way here, and I couldn’t get off the phone to answer your call. I’m here with you—I’m fine. I’m not going anywhere. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

He pulls back and forces me to look up at him. With the pads of his thumbs, he dries the tears from under my eyes. The pure love in his eyes is for me, and I feel it touch me all the way to my soul.

“I love you, Blake. I love you so much. I’ve been so afraid to tell you because I didn’t want to be hurt again. But now I know I’ve been hurting both of us by not telling you every day how much you mean to me. I’m sorry for that. I’ve always loved you. I won’t let another single day go by without letting you know how much I love and appreciate everything you do for me and Kyle.”

He stares at me in disbelief for a second before he crushes his mouth to mine. Our kiss is instantly frantic and demanding. Passionate and needy. Consuming and possessive.

He’s the first to end our kiss but keeps his forehead pressed against mine. “Babe, you’ve just made me the happiest man in the world, and you know I’d move heaven and earth for you. But you have to get in the car. You’re just getting over the flu. I don’t want you to get sick again.”

“Blake, when I thought I’d lost you forever, I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t even want to live anymore. My whole world stopped when I thought you died right in front of me. That was the worst feeling I’ve ever experienced. My heart is still broken just thinking about it.”

His smile can’t hide the sorrow in his eyes. “I feel like that every time I think about your cancer.”

He points to the seat, so I slide in and let him close the door. It’s time I start recognizing all the little things he does simply to care for me.