The door to the waiting room opened, and Dr. Jacobs walked in. “Dr. MacGregor?”

“Yes?”

“If you’ll come with me…”

Standing, I squeezed Alys’s shoulder before following Dr. Jacobs through the labyrinth of hospital corridors. Not knowing when I’d be back, if I’d be back, I knew I was leaving her in capable hands.

Outside of a room in the ICU ward, Dr. Jacobs halted. “What sort of doctor are you?”

“Therapeutic medicine. Why?”

“Mr. Deveraux had to be heavily sedated. He woke up screaming during surgery.”

“Oh, damn…” I said, wilting under that statement.

“He was screaming your name. Kenna, right?”

“Yes.”

“He is very battered and bruised—”

“That is nothing I haven’t seen before, Dr. Jacobs.”

He nodded. “I just wanted to warn you. He’s going to need all the help he can get to heal.”

The room, like most private rooms in an ICU, had one wall of glass and had the curtains pulled to protect privacy. Dr. Jacobs opened the door and stepped aside to allow me in.

My beloved, my other half, Phil fucking Deveraux, larger than life—he looked like a little boy, beaten and broken. His beautiful face was covered in gashes, lumps, and violently black-and-purple splotches. He was missing the beard he’d sported before leaving, shaven to search for more cuts, and both eyes were ringed with shiners. The left side of his mouth was swollen, the lip busted, and he had a slice beneath his right eye, taped up. His left leg was elevated with a cushion. There was a catheter lead hooked up to a waste bag attached to the bed, and an oxygen hose had been inserted into his nose and tucked behind his ears.

“Oh, babe…” I whispered, slowly approaching my reason for living.

“I’ve informed the staff that you’re allowed to stay with him. It took a lot of sedative to knock him out. He was very determined to find you, Dr. MacGregor.”

“Thank you.”

Dr. Jacobs left. Dropping my Burlap Beast into the lone armchair in the room, I walked up on Phil’s right side, lowered the bar on the bed, and perched my hip on the mattress.

“I’m here, babe. I made it.” Gently, I caressed a stray lock of hair off his forehead. His hair had been left alone, messy, coming out of its knot. “I have to say, you scared the shit out of me.”

The subtle rise and fall of his chest, the fluttering movement of his eyes behind his lids, the twitch of a finger that’d been clipped into the foam and metal SpO2 monitor—each movement, every spasm of life in him, made the painful ache within me slowly dissolve until I wept for the sheer relief of it. I hadn’t shed a single tear until this very moment.

“Shit, Phil!” I gasped, sliding my fingers into his curved palm, careful not to jostle anything. “I’ve been out of my mind! I didn’t know what to think. I only knew that you couldn’t possibly be gone from me. I still felt you,” I told him, my free hand coming up to touch my sternum.

I had felt him, had known he was still alive, that he hadn’t left me to face the rest of life without him. He wouldn’t do that to me, not yet, not before we had fulfilled all our dreams.

What, like X chose to leave Alys?

“Let everyone know, Baby Girl. No regrets.”

How do I tell Phil his best friend is dead?

“Babe…” I sniffled. “We’re going to get through this. I promise. I don’t know how…”

Exhausted, I slipped off the bed and pulled the armchair up next to it. Really, I should put the bar back up, but I needed to be in contact with him. Curling up in the armchair, I slipped my hand back into his.

Shit! His father! Danielle!

Digging my phone out of my bag single-handedly, I searched through the numbers until I came across Louis’s. I had no idea if the news had reached him yet.

“Hello? Kenna?”

“Hi, Dad,” I said as quietly as possible. I didn’t want the nurses to come in. Cell phones weren’t allowed. “Um…I’m in Saskatoon. I don’t know if you’ve already heard, but there’s been an accident—”

“Is everyone okay?”

Sniffling, fighting the urge to cry all over again, I said, “N-no.”

There was a loaded silence and then, “Philip?”

“I’m with him now. He’s just…” I had to swallow and dig out the doctor inside me. “He’s been in surgery—”

“Jesus Christ!”

“I think you need to come up here,” I told him. “It’s bad. Phil’s sedated right now, but he’s stable. You don’t have to worry about that.”

“All right. I’ll leave immediately. What about the others? What happened?”

“I can’t really talk. I just needed you to know. I won’t leave him—”

“I know you won’t, sweetheart. Where are you?”

“Saskatoon City Hospital. He’s in the ICU.”

We hung up, and I felt horrific for telling him so little. But he was on his way, he knew it was bad, and that was really all that mattered at the moment.

“Phil…” I whispered, feeling myself breaking down again. “Oh, Phil…”

I cried and cried and cried, and somewhere along the way, I cried myself to sleep.

Something tickled my cheek.

The scent beneath my face was sterile and, at the same time, Phil. Groaning, I forced my eyes open and raised my head, wincing at the stiffness in my neck. For a moment, I had no idea where I was, but I took in the dim light, and I remembered.

Saskatoon City Hospital.

Phil was awake, looking at me. “Kenna?” his voice rasped.

“Hey, babe,” I said, taking his hand and bringing it to my lips. It had been his fingertips caressing my cheek that I felt a moment ago. “Are you thirsty? Do you want some water?”

He nodded, and I got him a plastic cupful, holding it to his lips.

“What happened?” he asked when I placed the empty cup on the nightstand. “Where…” He looked around the room. “Where are we?”

“Saskatoon,” I replied. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Phil’s eyes grew unfocused as he searched through his mind. “I’m not sure. X…”

“What—” I had to stop myself from choking. “What about him?”

“I was worried about him. He seemed off.” He glanced around again. “We’re in a hospital?”

“Yes. What do you mean, he seemed off?”

“He was actin’ weird. He…he freaked. Went mental on Connor. I…” He winced. “Fuck, what’s wrong with me?”

For the first time, he noticed his elevated leg, and his eyes grew wide.

“You’re going to be okay, babe. Can you stay calm for me?”

He nodded and then spied his left hand. His engagement ring, the DiAblo, was missing, something I hadn’t noticed before.

“Where is it?” he gasped, his eyes flickering to mine. “Do you have it?”

I shook my head. “It’s probably—”

“Baby, fuckin’ find it!” he cried, his eyes wildly searching around as if it might just pop up out of thin air. His stress made the heart monitor spike, and the noise startled him, making him jump. “I’ve never taken it off!” He struggled, trying to get up, forgetting that the left side of his body was useless.

Two nurses and a doctor rushed in. Phil froze, his jaw hanging open.

“Miss, you need to leave,” the doctor said to me.

“No!” shouted Phil, making the heart monitor fire off even more.

One of the nurses clicked the morphine dispenser in the hopes that it would drug him, but Phil’s body was enormous, and that pitiful amount would hardly put a dent in him.

“Kenna, don’t go!” he cried.

“Please,” I said to the doctor.

“Don’t make me call security and have you escorted out.”

Damn it, Phil!

Grabbing my stuff, I threw him a pained look. “I love you, Phil. I’ll be back as soon as I can—”

“Kenna!” he screamed, my heart bleeding with the same pain his voice carried. “No! Please, don’t take my Baby Girl!”

From the opposite side of the glass, I watched the nurses hold him down while the doctor administered a sedative. Phil’s wild eyes locked on mine, and I pressed my hand to the glass.