The world starts to spin at an unusually fast pace as I rush to the hospital and to Aiden. All of the flashing lights outside give me a pounding headache. There’s a loud buzzing sound that pierces through my skull and doesn’t go away until I arrive on 10th Street. We enter through the emergency room entrance and the bright lights and the sterility of the place makes me sick to my stomach. Literally. I rush to the nearest trashcan and throw up.

Somewhere behind me, I hear the woman at the front desk ask Brie if I’m going to be okay. Even though I don’t physically laugh, I find this question remarkably funny. Am I alright? I’m in the emergency room waiting to be seen by a doctor. I’m in the emergency room throwing up in the nearest trashcan, unable or unwilling to even have the courtesy to go into the bathroom. No, lady, clearly, I am NOT alright.

Brie finds out the number and location of Aiden’s room and we head there. Only problem is that he’s not in the room. No, he’s still in surgery and we have to wait in the smaller waiting room in the east wing until he is wheeled into his room.

“He’s going to be okay, right? Right?” I keep asking Brie as I pace around the waiting room.

“Yes, of course, he is. Of course,” Brie lies through her teeth. She has no way of knowing if he will actually be all right, but I appreciate the gesture. I need something to believe in right about now.

Twenty minutes pass and it feels like it has been an hour. Another ten pass and it feels like it has been three hours.

“I need to do something,” I say. “I need to get out of here.”

“What? Where are you going to go?”

“I don’t know. Where’s the nearest vending machine?” I ask. “Or the farthest one? I could use a stroll.”

Just then a police officer approaches us. He’s dressed in his navy blues and looks very official. Almost like a cop from TV. He introduces himself as Officer Paulson.

“What happened here?” I ask. “What’s going on?”

“Did no one tell you?”

I shake my head no.

“Please tell me. I’m Aiden’s fiancée.”

Officer Paulson looks down at his notebook, trying to avoid my gaze. This must not be his favorite part of the job.

“Mr. Black…Aiden…has been shot,” Officer Paulson says, choosing his words very carefully.

“Shot!? Why? By whom?”

Now this is definitely not something that I ever expected in a million years.

“Like mugged?” Brie asks. Yes, of course. A mugging is definitely a possibility. This is New York after all, a place almost as famous for its muggings as it is for its pizza.

“No, we don’t think so,” he says.

“What then?”

“Can you tell me what happened? Where he was going?” Officer Paulson asks.

I stare at him. I don’t know what he means or why he’s asking me these questions.

“He was visiting me beforehand,” I say. “I’m pregnant. We’re having a baby.”

“Oh, okay.” By the expression on his face, I can tell that this is news to him.

“Didn’t Aiden tell you?”

Officer Paulson ignores this question. “So, you said that he was with you at your apartment? Where was he going, ma’am?”

“I was sick, throwing up. I wanted a bagel. I thought that it would make me feel better. So, he went to the bagel shop at the corner. Is that where this happened?”

Officer Paulson writes something in his little notepad and then looks up at me.

“I have to tell you something, ma’am.”

I hate how he calls me ma’am. There’s a cold, detached quality to it. It’s like he’s referring to someone he doesn’t really want to go talk to. Even though I want to shake him to knock the words right out of him, I take a step forward and wait patiently for whatever he’s about to say.

Why isn’t he saying anything? Wait a second. He has been shot. But not seriously, right? The thought of him being actually injured, like seriously injured, didn’t actually occur to me until this very moment. Stuff like this doesn’t happen to real people. It just happens to people on television, right?

“Aiden has been shot, but he’s all right. He’s in a coma.”

My mind starts to buzz. A throbbing headache forms in the back of my head.

“A coma! No one who is all right is in a coma!”

Why hadn’t he told me this originally?

“Ma’am, please calm down. He’s going to be okay.”

“How can you know this? You can’t possibly know this. I need to see a doctor.”

At that moment, everything goes to black. People come up and talk to me, saying words that I don’t really understand. Luckily, Brie is there to listen and say things in return. I just stand here, waiting until they let me in to see him. A doctor comes out and talks to us in a hushed tone. He uses a lot of medical jargon to explain that Aiden has been shot and they had to put him in a medically-induced coma.

“When will he come out of it?” I ask.

“We’re not really sure. We are going to be monitoring him around the clock. I will also be conferring with other doctors in order to make that decision.”

That can’t be good. You never want your doctor to meet with another doctor or doctors to make a medical decision. That means that something serious is going on, doesn’t it?

After a while, the doctor leaves. He answers most of Brie’s questions, who, at this moment, is much more levelheaded than I am. Basically, the conclusion is that there’s nothing really to do. The situation is what it is and now it’s just time to play the waiting and praying game.

After the doctor leaves, Officer Paulson comes over again and introduces me to his colleague, Detective Bradley. Bradley being his last name. Detective? Why is a detective here?

Detective Bradley asks me to repeat my story about what happened. Where was Aiden before he was shot? Why was he going there? I tell him exactly the same thing that I told Officer Paulson. Why the hell is all of this so important anyway, I wonder. I mean, he was going to buy some bagels. What’s the big mystery here?

“Detective Bradley, is it?” Brie asks. “Who do you think shot Aiden?”

He takes a step back and looks at Officer Paulson. Now, not only are the doctors conferring about this case, but so are the cops. What the fuck is going on?

“Well, we have a witness. The person who ran over to help Aiden and called 911.”

“And?” I ask. “What did they say?”

“He said that Aiden was having trouble talking. But when he asked him what happened, he said one name. And repeated it over and over.”

“Whose name?”

“I’m really not supposed to tell you,” he says.

“But you’re going to, right?” Brie asks.

Detective Bradley looks down at the floor and shuffles his feet. “Okay, but you didn't hear it from me.”

We wait.

“Blake Garrison.”