The doctor smiled at her when she finally let him go. “He’s a strong man,” he said, and turned and left.
Jules turned and hugged both of his parents and the three of them cried together.
Almost an hour later, Jules was shown back to where Damion was lying on a huge bed hooked up to so many machines and tubes.
Jules rushed to his side and took his hand gently in her own. She watched his eyes flutter open. Even though they were unfocused, he looked at her.
“Jules?” he croaked out in a raspy voice.
“I’m here,” she cried.
“Are you… did she get you?”
“No, I wasn’t shot.”
“She’s dead?”
“Yes.” Jules sighed and some of the worry she had for Damion slipped away. “How are you feeling?”
“Numb. Tired.”
“Sleep. Your parents are here. They let me come back first,” she said quickly. “Everyone’s here. Sleep. I love you.”
“Love too.” He drifted off.
She sat there, listening to the machines, his heartbeat, and the quiet for a few moments. Then she got up and let his parents take turns going back to see him.
“Why don’t we take you home for a few hours so you can rest. Dr. Val says they will move him into a private room in the morning. Until then, there’s nothing you can do,” her mother said when she sat down again.
“No, I’m going to wait right here.” The thought of leaving Damion turned her stomach.
“At least let us get you some food,” her mother suggested.
It was then that Jules realized they’d left the restaurant without eating. She wanted to tell her mother that she would eat when Damion did, but she knew better. Her mother probably wouldn’t rest until she had something to eat.
“A salad would be fine,” she suggested.
In the next hours, people came and went. Jules had three more short visits back to the ICU before they finally moved Damion to a private room. Here, she and his parents sat up all night, watching him sleep peacefully as the machines hummed around him. Nurses came and went each hour, checking on him.
She asked questions about what they were doing, what medicines he was on. What his recovery would look like. The nurses’ answers gave her and his family more hope.
With the morning light came a visit from the doctor who had performed Damion’s surgery.
While they were listening to the doctor talk, Damion’s eyes opened, and he called out for Jules.
“I’m right here,” she said softly. “Your parents are here too. They’re talking to the doctor.”
The doctor came over and asked Damion a few questions. How did he feel? Was there any pain? The man had Damion wiggle his fingers and toes.
Jules watched everything as if her own life depended on it. She hung on every word as the doctor explained how he had removed the bullet that had shattered two of Damion’s ribs and lodged in his muscles and fatty tissue.
“The ribs slowed the bullet down some,” the doctor said. “The bullet entered just under his arm, here.” He pointed to his own armpit area. “Then traveled sideways through his muscles, grazing and shattering two ribs.” He motioned over his own right chest with his pen. “Which was extremely lucky for Damion. The bullet traveled through a lot of his flesh, fat, and muscle and finally came to rest just under his pectoral muscle.” He pointed to his own chest area. “All in all, one of the easier scenarios. There is plenty of tissue and muscular damage. It may be a year or two before he’s back to lifting weights like he used to.”
“Thanks, doc,” Damion said. “When can I have something to eat?”
“If you’re hungry, now. I’m going to ask that you start off slow. No hamburgers just yet.”
“How about brownies?” Damion asked. Jules smiled for the first time since yesterday.