Fifty Shades Freed (Christian & Ana)(175)

What does that mean? My knees buckle beneath me, and only Christian's supporting arm prevents me from falling to the floor.

"He suffered severe internal injuries," Dr. Crowe says, "principally to his dia-phragm, but we've managed to repair them, and we were able to save his spleen.

Unfortunately, he suffered a cardiac arrest during the operation because of blood loss. We managed to get his heart going again, but this remains a concern.

However, our gravest concern is that he suffered severe contusions to the head, and the MRI shows that he has swelling in his brain. We've induced a coma to keep him quiet and still while we monitor the brain swelling."

Brain damage? No.

"It's standard procedure in these cases. For now, we just have to wait and see."

"And what's the prognosis?" Christian asks coolly.

"Mr. Grey, it's difficult to say at the moment. It's possible he could make a complete recovery, but that's in God's hands now."

"How long will you keep him in a coma?"

"That depends on how his brain responds. Usually seventy-two to ninety-six hours."

Oh, so long! "Can I see him?" I whisper.

"Yes, you should be able to see him in about half an hour. He's been taken to the ICU on the sixth floor."

"Thank you, Doctor."

Dr. Crowe nods, turns and leaves us.

"Well, he's alive," I whisper to Christian. And the tears start to roll down my face once more.

"Sit down," Christian orders gently.

"Papa, I think we should go. You need to rest. We won't know anything for a while," José murmurs to Mr. Rodriguez who gazes blankly at his son. "We can come back this evening, after you've rested. That's okay, isn't it, Ana?" José turns, imploring me.

"Of course."

"Are you staying in Portland?" Christian asks. José nods.

"Do you need a ride home?"

José frowns. "I was going to order a cab."

"Luke can take you."

Sawyer stands, and José looks confused.

"Luke Sawyer," I murmur in clarification.

"Oh . . . Sure. Yeah, we'd appreciate it. Thanks, Christian."

Standing, I hug Mr. Rodriguez and José in quick succession.

"Stay strong, Ana," José whispers in my ear. "He's a fit and healthy man.

The odds are in his favor."

"I hope so." I hug him hard. Then, releasing him, I shrug off his jacket hand it back to him.

"Keep it, if you're still cold."

"No, I'm okay. Thanks." Glancing nervously up at Christian, I see that he's regarding us impassively. Christian takes my hand.

"If there's any change, I'll let you know right away," I say as José pushes his father's wheelchair toward the door Sawyer is holding open.

Mr. Rodriguez raises his hand, and they pause in the doorway. "He'll be in my prayers, Ana." His voice wavers. "It's been so good to reconnect with him after all these years. He's become a good friend."

"I know."

And with that they leave. Christian and I are alone. He caresses my cheek.

"You're pale. Come here." He sits down on the chair and pulls me on to his lap, folding me into his arms again, and I go willingly. I snuggle up against him, feeling oppressed by my stepfather's misfortune, but grateful that my husband is here to comfort me. He gently strokes my hair and holds my hand.