Where the Streets Have No Name(45)

If she wanted to collect this information, Amelia had to stay where she was and focus on the task she assigned herself. The paramedics just walked in and were seeing to Daniel. They knew best. They’d see to his injuries.

So she continued making sure each and every person here gave their names and addresses, and showed her their identification. She snapped a photograph of each one and saved them in a file on a safe online location, just in case someone had any ideas about destroying her phone.

Soon she was finished collecting all the information she needed and an officer offered to drive her to the hospital, following the ambulance. Her movements were mechanical.

Sit in car.

Buckle seatbelt.

Wait.

Open door.

Follow into building.

Walk.

Walk.

Stop.

Listen.

She needed to see Daniel. Needed to know he was going to be all right. He had to be okay. He just had to. What would she do without him? She’d live on, but the cracks in her heart would shatter again.

Tears stung her eyes. The officer asked her a thousand questions she answered in a mechanical voice, desperate to be by Daniel’s side. Not yet though, first he had a few rounds of tests; x-rays, MRI scans. A nurse brought Daniel’s chart over and discussed his condition once she declared herself his wife.

“We took your husband for x-rays. He has two cracked ribs, one of which punctured through his side. His left kneecap is shattered,” she stated the fact like she was reading off instructions to build a barbeque, instead of talking about a human being. The man Amelia loved. “He needs extensive surgery.”

“Is he going to be okay?”

“I’d prefer not to speculate, Mrs. Byrne. But we’ll do everything we can.” The nurse patted her on the shoulder and returned to the operating room, or what he called, theatre.

It was so hard sitting here, waiting. The walls felt like they were closing in on her but Amelia wouldn’t let the fear win. After all, a hospital was just a building, like any other. The smells were different, but if she closed her eyes and blocked out the sounds, she pictured herself at home, surrounded by technology. She knew how to feel around computers. She understood them. Inanimate, programmable machines did what the software engineer told them to do.

All the knowledge of writing codes and programming couldn’t get the image of Daniel with that other woman out of her head though. Seared into her brain, it pushed aside the pain of losing Poppa, but only temporarily. God, how she missed him.

It hurt knowing she’d never see him again; millions of rusty pinpricks gouging at her chest. Somehow being in the country he was born and raised in brought her closer to him. She felt his presence around her and it helped to comfort her. Just a little.

But God, she hoped she hadn’t lost him to someone else. She was selfish and wanted him all to herself. Amelia sat in the waiting room, eyes glued to the wall across from her, watching for signs of movement by the door there. Someone would have to come and talk to her soon. They’d have to.

Seconds passed by like hours. Hours like days. The doctor tried to get her to leave at the end of visiting hours and she refused. Amelia offered them one million euros to leave her alone, knowing they’d accept. She put the transfer through immediately. They left her alone after that, coming to give her updates as they had them.

On her third day at the hospital, Amelia sat in the same chair she’d occupied since she first arrived here, a cold, cardboard cup of coffee on the table in front of her and an untouched sandwich. She hadn’t eaten more than a few bites of whatever the nurses brought her in three days. The thought of putting anything in her stomach made her feel nauseous.

“He’s awake and stable now, Mrs. Byrne. You can visit with your husband now.”

Amelia rose on shaky legs. Dread settled in her stomach. Bile churned and rose, burning the back of her throat. Technically speaking, she knew what to expect on the other side of his door. She read through the charts and spoke with the doctors. Daniel’s face required surgery to set the broken bones on his right cheek. Numerous stitches held together the split flesh over his brow and under his chin. That didn’t take anything below the neck into account.

Reading all the information in the world didn’t prepare her for the sight of the man she well and truly fell for. Arms in casts, raised above his head. Just his eyes visible through the gauze wrapped around his head. A cast on his chest.

“I hear you and I got married,” Daniel said, the words broken by his swollen lips.

She stopped at his bedside, unsure of where to stand or sit or what to do. “I had to, so they would let me see you.”

“Ah.” His eyes rolled back in his head. The lids shut.