The Proposal(7)
“How is he?”
“We don’t know anything yet. They’re running tests.” The nurse gripped Emma’s shoulder. “If you’ll just go have a seat, someone will—”
Emma shook her head furiously from side to side. “Please, let me stay here. I won’t get in the way, I promise. He didn’t want me to leave him!”
The nurse took in Emma’s swollen stomach, and her expression softened. She glanced over her shoulder before sighing. “Okay. Is there anyone else you should call?”
Emma had been so consumed by the ghosts of the past along with Patrick’s condition, she hadn’t even thought of calling Aidan or his sisters. Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh God, I can’t believe I didn’t call his children!”
“It’s okay, honey. I’m sure you’ve had a lot to process. Why don’t you step right over there?” the nurse motioned to a table with a shiny black phone on top of it.
Emma nodded and walked away from Patrick’s door. She eased down into the uncomfortable plastic chair. With Becky and Liz in Disney World and Julia living out of state, Aidan and Angie were the closest in distance of getting to the hospital. She tried Angie first, hoping she could get her to call Aidan. But she didn’t pick up, so Emma was forced to leave her a voicemail asking her to call her as soon as she could.
With shaky fingers, she dialed Aidan’s cell number. He answered on the third ring. “This is Aidan Fitzgerald.”
The sound of the deep timbre of his voice vibrating her ear made her chest tighten. For a few moments, she couldn’t process thoughts, and she certainly couldn’t speak. “Hello?” he prompted.
“Um, it’s me.”
Aidan sucked in a sharp breath on the other line. “Emma…” The way he said her name caused her to shiver. It hummed with a mixture of both pleasure and pain. “God, it’s so good to hear your voice.” She remained motionless, unspeaking and unblinking. He was paralyzing her with just his voice. “Please say something. Please talk to me, Em,” he begged.
Snap out of it a voice deep within her screamed. She shook her head. “I’m not calling because of all that. It’s your dad. We’re at the ER at Wellstar.”
His tone changed over in an instant. “Wait, what happened to Pop?”
“I don’t know yet. He had chest pains and collapsed at the VFW. They’re running tests. He’s conscious and breathing on his own.”
“Fuck. I’m an hour away below Atlanta.” He growled in frustration. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Okay,” she replied. She hung the receiver up before he could say anything else.
She turned her attention back to Patrick’s door. A slow eternity seemed to tick by as Emma waited for news. She paced back and forth outside. Every time another doctor or nurse entered, her heart shuddered to a stop. Wringing her hands, prayers rolled through her mind continuously.
After trying unsuccessfully to get two nurses to give her an update, she leapt at the next person to come out of the door. Twisting her fingers into his white coat, she held on for dear life as the tears pooled in her eyes. “Please, please you have to tell me what’s happening!” she demanded.
The doctor brought his hands to hers, and instead of shoving her away, he took them tenderly in his own. She glanced up into a pair of soulful brown eyes that radiated with empathy. “What’s your name, sweetheart?” he asked.
“Emma.”
A warm smile cut across his handsome face—one that in any other situation might have caused her heart to beat a little faster or even a stirring below her waist. His jet black hair fell in waves across his forehead, and his pearly white teeth contrasted against his dark skin. “Emma, I’m Dr. Nadeen. I need for you to take a deep breath and calm down, okay?”
She shook her head wildly. “But I—he—”
“Mr. Fitzgerald is going to be just fine. We have him stabilized while we’re running some tests. But it doesn’t appear that it is anything life threatening. He’s in good hands. I promise.”
The news caused her knees to buckle, and she would have dropped to the floor if Dr. Nadeen hadn’t wrapped his arms around her. “Whoa, now.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Come with me.” With one arm firmly around her waist, he led her to the room across the hall from Patrick’s.
“No, I need to stay with him,” she protested as he eased her down onto the bed.
“You can see everything that goes on from here.” He knelt down in front of her and brought his fingers to her wrist. “Your pulse is racing. You’ve got to calm down. Can I get one of the nurses to call your husband?”