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Ch.23-Mon Coeur

I had a moderate concussion, and three stitches across my temple. After humiliatingly passing out on the scene, I woke up in a hospital bed, the stitches over and done with. They released me about twenty minutes later, when they were sure I wouldn't spontaneously topple over and black out again. I sat in the waiting room, though. I didn't bother calling anybody to pick me up. There were two people I had to see before I left to go home.

I didn't know where Rhys or Alec were; either people refused to tell me, or they just didn't know. So I was forced to stay in the waiting room, knee bobbing up and down anxiously, unable to read any of the stupid outdated magazines because my eyes couldn't focus on the words. That, and the doctors said nothing for at least a week that would require me to focus too much.

It was dark out. I wasn't sure how long I'd been passed out, but none of that really mattered now. I was alone, with no word from anybody. I hated being in the dark.

"Where is he?" a frantic voice cried, bursting into the waiting room and shattering the fragile silence. I whipped my head around toward the door, seeing Emma standing there, fingers knotted together in front of her. She looked like she'd jumped right out of bed, as she was in checkered pajama pants and a black tank top. Her hair was thrown up in a wild mess, and she had dark circles beneath her eyes, set on a pale face. She didn't look like she felt that great, either. I gulped nervously.

Her grey eyes landed on me, and she rushed over. "Hey, Emma," I greeted.

"What happened?" she demanded. "Where's Rhys? Why are you in a hospital? Are those stitches?"

"Calm down," I told her, holding out my hands, because she was weaving on the spot. "Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm fine," she stated, brushing the matter away. "Where is my husband?"

"I think you should sit down," I told her. "And before we begin, I just want to say I'm sorry."

"For what?"

So I told her. About everything. Picking up Rhys while she was sleeping to help me bring back Alec. Thinking it wouldn't take more than a few minutes. Easing her into the fact that Mr. Grey had been armed and Rhys got shot, but making sure she understood the fact that the bullet he took might have very well saved Alec's life.

She was surprisingly calm through it. I thought she'd be going off at the end, but she didn't say anything.

She was quiet.

"Are you mad?" I ventured on to ask.

She shook her head. "No," she whispered. "No, I'm not mad. Not at you, at least."

That was good enough for me. I sat back, trying to refrain from banging my head back against the wall. Not only would it make everything worse, but I wouldn't have exactly looked sane doing it.

The creaking of a door drew my attention. A relieved smile spread across my face when I saw Rhys emerge. His button-up shirt was open, revealing bandages wrapped across his torso. I could tell by the way his face was pinched up that he was in pain.

"Rhys," Emma breathed, rising to her feet. His head snapped up and their eyes collided, and I swore I saw the burden lift off his shoulders at the mere sight of her. Emma hurried over to him, not sure how to hug him without causing injury. But in the end, Rhys just wrapped her in his arms and held her like the world would end if he let go. It was a beautiful thing.

"What are you doing here?" he questioned, voice unimaginably soft and tender. "You should be resting."

"You idiot," she sniveled, pulling back to look into his face. "If you weren't shot I would smack you for that."