"What about you?" I said, rubbing his shoulder. "You must be just as tired."
"I'll lie down a little later. I want to go meet with Ethan's nurses and read his chart first."
"OK," I said. I went to the room and spoke to Elaine, telling her what we were doing. She waved me off and said she would stay in the waiting room as she had done the previous night. Her place was with my father.
Drake took my hand and led me through the halls to the small room with a set of bunk beds and a night table and lamp. Here, tired residents went to take a sleep break on their long shifts. It was free until much later and so we had it for the entire night.
I lay on the bed and Drake pulled the blanket up over my shoulder. He kissed my cheek and tucked the blanket in.
"I'll be in later to check on you or let you know if there's any news." I nodded and I was so tired, I was almost asleep before Drake even left the room.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
I slept the entire night through.
When I woke, I sat up and switched on the bedside light and checked my cell. It was 7:39 in the morning. At least nothing bad happened in the night or Drake would have woken me, but I felt very guilty that I alone was able to sleep. Drake hadn't come in to sleep nor had Elaine.
I found a bathroom down the hall and quickly washed my face and used a travel toothbrush in my toiletry kit to give my teeth a quick brush. My hair was a mess, so I pulled it back into a loose bun, and scrubbed my face with cold water.
When I made my way back up to the ICU, I caught sight of Drake speaking with a doctor wearing scrubs, a cap and a white lab coat. He had glasses and greying hair and looked to be in his fifties. It must have been Dr. Clark. The two men spoke together, Drake standing with his arms crossed, listening and nodding while the other man relayed information, ticking things off on his fingers. I stood off to the side and tried not to distract them, but instead, listened in to see if I could hear anything.
"…likely some permanent damage … extensive rehabilitation… no cognitive impairment but we won't know for sure until later…"
I heard Drake thank the man, whom he called Aaron, and the two men shook hands. Dr. Clark rested his hand on Drake's shoulder.
"He's strong and generally fit so if there's no complications in the next day or two, he should do fine."
Drake caught sight of me and waved me over. I went to his side and faced Dr. Clark.
"Kate, this is your father's neurosurgeon, Dr. Aaron Clark. He's probably the very best in the entire country in dealing with your father's kind of stroke. Aaron, this is Kate McDermott, Ethan's daughter and my fiancée."
Dr. Clark extended a hand and smiled warmly at me. "Your father is a strong man. I hear he's a former Marine. They're tough as nails so I expect him to pull through. Despite the second bleed, everything looks pretty good, so as long as the next few days are without any major complications, he should be fine."
"Thank you so much," I said and shook his hand. "We're so lucky to have you."
"Glad to be of help."
"You look very tired," I said, noting his bleary eyes, which were bloodshot. "Were you up all night?"
He smiled. "Had an emergency surgery overnight. I'm on call this weekend and sometimes I don't make it out until Monday morning. Depends on what comes through the door." He turned to Drake once more and extended his hand. "Well, I have to go check in on a patient. I'll let you know if anything changes."
Drake shook his hand again and then Dr. Clark was off, stopping in at the nursing station to speak with the nurses. I watched as he walked away down the hall, urgency in his step, his white lab coat billowing out behind him as he went through the doors to the other ward. That was Drake when he was on call, visiting patients and their families, checking in on the most critical cases to see how they were doing, consulting with the medical team, scrubbing in on a case that interested him or taking a case when it was busy.
I remembered what I said to Sefton about Drake – his job was important. It was more than a job and not something like being an artist that you could do at your own schedule. Drake held people's lives in his hands. He was responsible for the survival of a beloved father or mother, curing a child's debilitating disorder, restoring them to full function – for some of them, maybe for the first time in their lives. As we stood in an embrace, doing nothing other than enjoying the contact, I felt so lucky to have him here with me, to help Elaine and me sort through my father's care and recovery.
But I also knew that he had to go back as soon as my father was no longer critical. Drake had students waiting for his insights, for his expertise. He had patients who waited months – some of them years – to see a neurosurgeon with his very unique skill set with robotic technology.
I looked up at him, emotions for him filling me – gratitude that he was here, that he was so competent, that he was so willing to take control and make sure we were looked after. That he knew enough to be able to reassure us about my father, his condition and his care.
"I love you," I said, my voice catching.
He leaned down to kiss me, his lips tender against mine. When he pulled back, a hint of a grin started at the corner of his mouth.
"Not that I'm complaining, but to what do I owe this declaration of your love, Ms. Bennet?"
I shook my head, unable to speak for a moment as emotions overwhelmed me. Finally, I responded, my voice breaking.
"I'm so glad you're here. I don't know what I'd do without you. I'd be frantic."