Page 15 of The Recovery Coach
Silence for several seconds, and then something jostled Hazy.He opened crusty, sleepy eyes to a blinding light and groaned.He tried to stretch, but his fingers were tangled, and the slight movement sent a bolt of pain through his leg.
“Fuck,” he said, and examined his surroundings.
Livy sat in a chair next to him, her fingers intertwined with his.He squeezed her hand, thankful she cared enough to sit next to him while he slept.The last time they’d been in a hospital together, she’d been the one in the bed while he held her hand, helpless.Sixteen-year-old Livy had been in so much endometriosis pain she couldn’t stand on her own, and the doctors sent her home with ibuprofen and told her the pain and hemorrhaging were normal.
Over a decade later, conversations about women’s healthcare still fired him up.
He remembered his injury.His head hitting the ice and Robbie forcing him to lie down.The ambulance ride to the hospital.Going into surgery.He wouldn’t have gotten through the ordeal without Livy.Being on this end still sucked less than watching her suffer.
Lover and Beanie sat across the room, tussling over the remote control.A news anchor on the TV sat straight and covered a story about a local high school’s food drive.
At the sound of Hazy’s voice, Lover dropped the fight with Beanie and crossed the room to loom over him.Lover touched his face, sweeping sweaty hair off Hazy’s brow.
“You fucking jerk,” Lover scolded.“I worried about you.”
Hazy frowned and swatted Lover’s hand away.
“I’m fine.How’d the game go?”
A pretty brunette nurse in blue scrubs knocked twice on the door and stuck her head in.Beanie invited her inside.She maneuvered about the room, taking notes on various readings on the computers.
“Glad to see you’re awake,” she said.
“Just now.”Hazy nodded.
“How do you feel?”
Hazy took stock of his body.His leg throbbed.His eyelids were heavy as fuck.The pillow was a rock against his head.Harsh fluorescent lighting hurt his eyes.His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.
“Could be better,” he said.
The nurse jotted some notes and lifted the blanket covering his lower body.
Livy dropped his hand and stood.He tracked her movements as she whispered into Beanie and Lover’s ears.Both men excused themselves from the room, and Livy shut the door behind them before rounding on him, hands on her hips.
“Could be better,” she said in a mocking tone.“For fuck’s sake, Connor.”
He swallowed, the motion doing nothing to help the dryness in his mouth.
“What?”he asked.
“You haven’t had pain meds in six hours.‘Could be better’ is a goddamn understatement.If you don’t tell Amanda what hurts, she can’t fucking fix it for you.”
“I’ll be fine.A little pain never killed anyone.”
The nurse butted in with, “I can give you more drugs if you need them.What’s your pain on a scale of one to ten?”
Hazy debated his answer.Eight for sure.Maybe a nine.His leg hurt like hell.
“Like a six.”
Livy threw her hands in the air, stomping her foot.“Can you be so fucking for real right now?This is one of the worst injuries you could get as far as pain goes.”
The nurse set her clipboard on the end of Hazy’s bed and stalked over to the door, her expression icy.
“You need to leave,” she said to Livy.
Panic gripped him.He needed her to stay right fucking here and help him get through this.
