Colostomy bag.
The doctor had regurgitated a statistic that a small percentage of people made it back from injuries like this, but his eyes had betrayed him.
I could read between the lies.
Mark’s cell phone buzzed.
“It’s my lawyer,” he stated. “You—”
He didn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he stalked from the room, the door shutting with a soft thud.
I leaned forward and gripped Shelly’s hand in mine. “Hey, girl. Can you hear me?” I paused, like I expected her to sit up and answer me. To tell me to stop being dramatic.
But nothing happened.
The sound of her respirator filled the room. Tears finally flooded my eyes.
“I hope you’re on the other side already and not scared or in pain. I hope it’s gorgeous there. Peaceful. I hope you’re happy.”
Part of me thought she might give my fingers a squeeze. Part of me thought this was all a sick joke, and that the universe had a wicked, dark sense of humor.
But when Shelly didn’t move and the beeping machines continued to control her functions, I knew this for what it was.
Something cold settled in my chest where my heart beat.
Mark would fight me even though his lawyer would tell him it was pointless. Shelly may have been marrying Mark, but I was her next of kin. We had been close for years. So close that I was in charge of her medical directive. They hadn’t been together long enough for her to change the paperwork giving him the power of attorney. After Grammie died, Shelly and I had made sure that our affairs were in order.
We were family, through and through.
We’d prepared for the worst because the world hadn’t gone easy on either of us—hadn’t ever given us a break. Even though we’d both found love, we still hadn’t trusted it. Not really.
I brought our clasped hands to my mouth and gently kissed the back of her hand, a single tear falling onto her skin. I set her palm down by her side and then I forced myself to stand, taking one last look at her before I turned to leave.
Mark was pacing the hallway, barking something at his lawyer. When he saw me slip out from Shelly’s room, he hung up and came at me.
“Youbitch.”
He was suddenly in my face, close enough that I felt his saliva hit my cheek as he spewed his venomous hate.
But I stood there and took it because I was guilty and deserving of his anger.
I was the reason she was in that bed, and I would stand there and let Mark hurl his vitriol at me if he chose.
Boxer had other plans.
I hadn’t seen him coming down the hallway, but he was suddenly there and forcing himself between me and Mark.
“You fucking touch her and I’ll kill you.”
Mark had once been uneasy around the bikers who I now called family. None of that unease was there now. Mark straightened his spine.
“Try it, fucker. You’re scum. You both are.”
Mark stomped away, his phone out of his pocket and to his ear in the span of a few seconds. His steps echoed across the floor and then disappeared as he turned the corner.
“Hey,” Boxer said, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me to his chest.
I stood there without saying a word.