Always Watching

“Looks like he had a narrowing of one of his arteries. We’ll do bypass surgery in the morning and put in a stent. If all goes well, you should be able to see him tomorrow evening, and he’ll be home in a couple of days.” Before the doctor left, he added, “He’s probably had this problem for a while—he’s lucky he was with you.”
    After the doctor had gone, I held my hand over my own heart, sagging back in the chair.
    Kevin reached over and rubbed my shoulder. “Don’t worry. Anderson’s one of the best cardiac guys in the country.”
    I gave him a smile. “Thanks, and thanks for sitting with me.”
    “Of course. Do you want another coffee?”
    “I’m good. I’m sure you have appointments. I don’t want to keep you. I’ll probably be here for a while.”
    He nodded, but said, “I can reschedule. I don’t mind staying.”
    I said, “No, please. Really, I’m fine on my own.”
    He looked at the magazine he was holding, ruffled a few of the pages with his thumb, then said, “When you told me what had happened, it scared me.”
    “I’m fine. Little banged up, but I’ll be okay.”
    “I know, but it made me realize something.”
    “What’s that?”
    “Even though I don’t want to lose someone again, I still want to have a relationship in my life. I think it’s worth the risk. I think you’re worth the risk.”
    “I’m sorry, Kevin, but I told you. That’s not what I want right now.”
    “You told me that, but I’m not sure if it’s true.”
    “It’s true.” We held gazes for a moment, then I looked away. “I’ve had a lot happen in the last twenty-four hours. I need some time alone, to sit and think.”
    “Of course. If you need me—”
    “I know where you are.” I said it with a smile, but the message was clear.
    He dropped his magazine on the chair, also gave me a smile, and then headed to the elevator. After he left, I picked up his magazine and flipped through it, then stopped and looked at the coffee he’d brought me, now cold. I thought of his offer. I’d wanted a fresh coffee, wanted his companionship, but I’d still said no. What was wrong with me? Why had I reacted so negatively to his kind offer?
    Then I thought of Francine, a sad, elderly woman wandering the halls, lonely, speaking to people from her past. A life lived with many friends and travels, a successful career, but no one left to sit by her side.

 
    CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
    The police called later that evening. They’d arrested Aaron at the scene, and, still in custody, he’d been rushed to the hospital for a gunshot wound. He’d lost a lot of blood and was recovering on the same ward as Robbie, but with an armed guard. Daniel and Joseph had escaped. The police weren’t able to search the commune without a warrant, and at the moment they didn’t have enough evidence that either of them might be hiding there to get one.
    They were now contacting authorities in other countries to keep an eye out for Daniel and Joseph, in case they fled to one of the foreign communes. They’d also arrested Mary, but she was refusing to talk, still protecting her son. She did admit it was her car he’d made his escape in, after Joseph had taken the truck.
    The next morning, Robbie had his surgery. I wasn’t working, but I tried to busy myself at the hospital, so I’d be around in case anything went wrong. Finally, Dr. Anderson paged me that Robbie was in recovery and starting to wake up. The procedure was successful, but he’d had another minor heart attack during surgery, so they wanted to keep him a few days, just for observation. I could see him now.
    I walked into Robbie’s room and slowed as I neared his bed. His eyes were closed, and my pulse spiked when I noticed how pale he looked.
    He opened his eyes when I reached his side. “Some nurse took my damn hat.”
    He smiled at himself. Hating his vulnerability but knowing that I’d get the joke. Robbie had never liked to be without his baseball cap—only time I remember him not wearing one was at funerals. We’d had far too many of those.
    “I’ll get you another one.” I smiled back, relieved to see he was in good spirits. I’d been worried about depression—something men often experience after a heart attack, especially because he’d just lost Brew. I felt a wave of sadness, thinking of my brother going home to an empty house. Almost like he’d read my mind, Robbie’s smile also faded, and we held gazes.
    I said, “I’m sorry about Brew.