Chapter 13 - The Waiting Room Vigil
The doctor came out at 1:47. I checked the clock above the double doors because I needed something to look at besides Daniel's hands.
He was still in his suit jacket, the sleeves pushed up now, his shirt wrinkled at the collar. He hadn't sat down in almost an hour. He stood near the vending machines in the side hallway, and I sat two chairs down from Emily's mom in my gown, the lace sleeves itching at my wrists. The veil was gone. I'd folded it and put it in my lap like a napkin I didn't know what to do with.
The doctor was a woman about my mom's age, tired eyes, hair pulled back with a clip. She looked at Emily's mom first.
"She's stable," she said. "We got the bleeding controlled. She'll need to stay overnight for observation. We'll keep her sedated until morning."
Emily's mom let out a breath that sounded like she'd been holding it for years. "Can I see her?"
"Not yet. Give us twenty minutes to get her settled in recovery. One family member can stay in the waiting room overnight in case we need consent for anything else. The rest should go home and rest."
She glanced at her clipboard and then back up, already turning to leave. That was the first scene. Quick, clean. Stable. I felt my shoulders drop before I told them to.
The second part came slower.
Emily's mom turned to Daniel. She didn't look at me when she said it at first. Then she did.
"Will you stay?" she asked him. Her eyes moved to my dress, to the lace, to the veil in my lap, and then back to his face. "Please. I can't sit here alone all night."
Daniel looked at me. I felt it before I saw it.
I had spent the whole ride to the hospital thinking about what I would say if I got this moment. Demand he leave now. Demand he choose. On my wedding night, in a hospital hallway, make him walk out with me and prove something. My mouth was dry. The fluorescent light buzzed over us. A nurse pushed a cart past with squeaking wheels.
I thought about the suite. The ring on the dark wood. The suitcase by the door. I thought about how easy it would be to say, we're leaving, and drag him back into that warm dim room and pretend the night could still be saved.
"You should call your husband," Emily's mom said to me, quietly. Not unkind. She didn't know. She thought I was just some girl in a wedding dress.
I looked at Daniel. "He's my husband," I said.
The silence after that was real. She blinked. Her hand went to her mouth. "Oh. Oh, honey. I'm sorry. On your— tonight?"
I nodded once. I didn't trust my voice for more than that.
Daniel stepped closer. "We can go," he said low. "If you want to go back, we'll go back right now."
That was the choice. He put it in my hands. Leave now and take him with me, or allow this vigil and sit with the fact that he'd stay for Emily.
I looked down at my left hand. The pale band where the ring had been all day was still there. My finger felt light and cold in the air conditioning. I rubbed my thumb over the empty spot.
If I made him leave, I'd spend all night wondering if Emily crashed and he blamed me. If I let him stay, I'd spend all night watching him worry about another woman while I sat in my wedding dress.
I didn't want either. But I wanted the truth more than I wanted sleep.
"We're not going back yet," I said. My voice sounded hoarse. "I'll stay too."
Daniel frowned. "In the waiting room? All night? In that dress?"
I smoothed the skirt over my knees. The lace was wrinkled from the taxi seat, a small gray smudge near the hem I hadn't noticed before. "I've worn it this long."
Emily's mom looked between us. "You don't have to—"
"I want to," I said. And that was true. I needed to see how he sat, who he checked on first, what he did when no one was asking him to perform. I couldn't learn that from the suite. I could only learn it here.
The nurse at the desk brought us two thin blankets and pointed us toward the main waiting room. It was bigger, with blue vinyl chairs in rows and a TV playing low with captions on. A man slept in the corner with his coat over his face. The lights were too bright to ever really sleep under.
Emily's mom took the row by the window. Daniel and I took the row across from her, with one empty chair between us at first. I sat down carefully, gathering the skirt so it wouldn't catch. The blanket scratched at my shoulders.
For a while nobody talked. Daniel leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. Every time the double doors opened he looked up. I watched his profile do it three, four times. I counted my breaths to keep from saying something I'd regret.
Around three, Emily's mom fell asleep with her head against the window. Her breathing went soft and uneven. Daniel got up and laid his jacket over her shoulders without waking her. Then he came back and sat in the empty chair right next to me, so our arms almost touched.
"You didn't have to stay," he whispered.
I kept my eyes on the doors. "I know."
"Are you cold?"
"A little."
He lifted his side of my thin blanket and tucked it tighter around my shoulder. His fingers brushed my neck, just for a second. I didn't move away.
May you like
We sat there while the surgery light down the hall clicked off and the ward went quiet. Stable. That was the word the doctor had used. I held onto it. Stable meant no one had to decide anything tonight. Stable meant I could witness instead of bleed out myself.
I stayed.
