The Boss Project(78)
“Which was what exactly?” My head was spinning. It hadn’t even sunk in that Amelia was in surgery, and now this? I raked a hand through my hair. “You were fucking her?”
Aaron frowned. “I should go…”
“Go? You shouldn’t fucking be here in the first place.”
He kept staring down. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way. And I’m sorry this happened.”
“Were you in the plane with her?”
Aaron nodded. “The landing gear only came down on one side, apparently. I didn’t know until after they pulled us from the wreckage. If I’d known, I never would have let her land the plane. She didn’t have enough experience.”
I was quiet for a long time, letting things sink in. “Why aren’t you hurt more?”
“We landed on the pilot’s side, and the top caved in. The passenger side held.”
My heart wanted me to punch this guy in the face. But my head wouldn’t let my arms or legs move. I just stood there, shell shocked.
Eventually, Aaron took his jacket from the chair behind him. “I’m going to go. I hope she’s okay. And I’m very sorry, Merrick. She loves you.”
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Maybe I would’ve left by now if she’d had anyone else. But Amelia was on her own for the most part, except for me. She had been since high school. Well, apparently, she had fucking Aaron, too. I’d spent the last eight hours while she was in surgery trying to piece it together. Actually, if I were being honest, I’d been trying to understand Amelia Evans since the night we met years ago in college. I’d sort of come to terms with the idea that there were parts of her she was never going to let me see. I always felt like she hid them as some sort of self-protection mechanism, since she’d been in and out of foster care her entire life and never fully trusted anyone. But I wasn’t sure I could accept that some of those missing pieces of her were with another man.
The nurse had come over and given me updates every few hours. The last time she’d said it would probably only be another hour. Since that had been almost two hours ago now, I was getting antsy. Just then a doctor wearing blue scrubs, with a matching blue surgical cap and mask, walked over to the nurses’ station. When the nurse pointed at me, I stood.
Taking down his mask, the doctor extended his hand. “Mr. Crawford?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Dr. Rosen. I’m the neurosurgeon who operated on Ms. Evans.”
“How is she?”
The doctor put his hands on his hips and sighed. “I wish I could answer that question. As you know, Ms. Evans suffered a severe head injury. She was brought in with a fractured skull, several cracked vertebrae, and some pretty significant cranial swelling and bleeding. All things considered, the surgery went as well as could be expected. We were able to perform a craniectomy to stop the bleeding and make room for the swelling to avoid even more compression damage. She’s alive, and her vitals are amazingly stable after such an immense trauma and difficult surgery. But when we tried to bring her out of the anesthesia, she didn’t wake up. That’s not to say she will not regain consciousness at some point, but it’s obviously not a great sign. So at this point, all we can say is that she seems to be holding her own. It’s going to take some time to know how extensive the damage is.”
He paused and looked me in the eyes. “But I think you need to brace yourself for the possibility that she might not make it through the next few days. Or if she does, that she could wind up with some pretty significant deficits.”
I sat down in the chair behind me. “Can I see her?”
Dr. Rosen nodded. “They’re finishing cleaning her up now, and then she’ll be moved to the ICU. Her face is very swollen, which is common after a head trauma, and we’re going to leave the top of her skull off for a while—her brain needs the room. But yes, you can see her when we’re all done. Just be very careful moving or touching her.”
“How long will her head be open?”
“It’s hard to say. We’re going to freeze the bone flap we removed so it can be reattached in the future.”
It was difficult to breathe, so I swallowed. “Okay.”
“Ms. Evans filled out a health care proxy when she was here for another procedure.”
I nodded. “She had her appendix out last year.”
“That form names you as her agent—the person who makes health care decisions for her when she’s unable to make them herself.”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “She doesn’t have contact with any of her family.”
He nodded. “I’m sure once everything sinks in, you’re going to have a lot of questions. I’ll stop back in the ICU once she’s settled in and examine her, and we can talk again.”
“Thank you.”
He started to walk away, but then turned back. “I’m sorry. I got so wrapped up in her neurology, I didn’t even mention that the baby seems to be doing well. We have an order in for an OB to come examine her while she’s in the ICU, but the pregnancy appears intact at this point. It’s pretty incredible.”
“Pregnancy?”
The doctor’s eyes narrowed. “Amelia is at least a few months pregnant.”
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“Would you like to hear the heartbeat?” The obstetrician smiled at me. “It’s very strong. I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now, but I find a baby’s heartbeat often instills a sense of hope in parents.”