Chapter 42 #42
Chapter 42
~Shailyn~
I was at home, curled up on the couch in the sitting room with a book I wasn't really reading, when I heard it, a loud shout, followed by an even louder crash that made my heart jump into my throat.
"AHHH!"
Tyler's voice. There was no mistaking it.
The book fell from my hands as I jumped to my feet, my pulse already racing. "Tyler?" I called out, my voice shaky.
Another sound, a groan, heavy and pained.
I realized with a sinking feeling that it was just Dwayne and I at home. Dante had gone out earlier, something about picking up supplies for the baby.
But he wasn't here now.
"Dwayne!" I shouted, already running toward the source of the sound. "Dwayne, something's wrong!"
I heard footsteps pounding from the opposite direction, Dwayne must have heard it too.
“Are you okay?” He asked with concern.
“Yes I am, but I don't think Tyler is.”
We rushed into Tyler's room, nearly colliding in the doorway.
What I saw made my blood run cold.
Tyler was on the floor beside his wheelchair, his body twisted at an awkward angle, one hand clutching his side. His face was contorted with pain, his breathing coming in harsh, labored gasps.
"Father!" Dwayne was across the room in two strides, dropping to his knees beside Tyler. "What happened? Can you hear me?"
"I... tried to... stand," Tyler managed, his voice strained. "The chair... moved... I fell."
"Don't move," Dwayne ordered, his voice sharp and commanding.
"This is going to hurt," he warned. "But I need to get you up."
"Just... do it," Tyler gritted out.
Dwayne lifted his father with surprising gentleness despite his size, cradling him like he weighed nothing. Tyler's face went even paler, a hiss of pain escaping through clenched teeth.
"I'm right behind you," I said, grabbing Tyler's phone and my own from the side table. "I'll call ahead to the hospital."
We moved as quickly as we could without jostling Tyler too much. Dwayne carried his father through the manor, his arms steady despite the weight, his jaw set with determination.
"Shailyn, please get the door," he called as we approached the front entrance.
I ran ahead, yanking the door open wide.
Dwayne was with his car key. Ready to drive.
Dwayne carefully maneuvered Tyler into the back seat, making sure he was as comfortable as possible given the circumstances.
"Shailyn, go in, just stay beside him while I drive. " Dwayne said softly.
I climbed in, immediately reaching for Tyler's hand. His fingers were cold, trembling slightly. "It's going to be okay," I told him, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "We're almost there."
Dwayne slid in the driver's seat. Driving fast, but not out of proportion.
The car pulled away from the manor, moving with controlled speed. I kept my hand on Tyler's, feeling his pulse racing beneath my fingers.
I pulled out my phone with my free hand and called the hospital, explaining the situation to the emergency department. "Yes, Tyler Belmar. He's seventy-three. He fell from his wheelchair. We're about ten minutes away."
The drive felt simultaneously endless and too short. Tyler's breathing remained labored, his face a mask of pain that he was clearly trying to hide. Dwayne kept up with the steady movement of the car.
"We're almost there, Father. Just hold on. You're going to be fine."
Finally, we pulled up to the emergency entrance. Medical staff were already waiting with a gurney.
"Mr. Belmar," a nurse said, immediately moving to assess him as Dwayne and another orderly carefully transferred Tyler from the car to the stretcher.
They wheeled him inside quickly, Dwayne and I following close behind. The emergency room was a blur of activity, nurses, doctors, all moving with practiced efficiency.
We followed Tyler's gurney down a hallway and into an examination room. The doctor who appeared was middle-aged, with kind eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses.
"I'm Dr. Leo," he said, already examining Tyler. "Mr. Belmar, I need you to tell me exactly what hurts."
"Everything," Tyler said.
"Let's be more specific." Dr. Leo’s hands moved carefully, professionally, pressing gently on different areas. "Here?"
"Yes."
"Here?"
"Less."
"Can you move your legs?"
Tyler tried. His left leg moved slightly. His right barely twitched.
"We're going to need X-rays," Dr. Leo said. "Possibly a CT scan. I want to make sure nothing's broken.
They took Tyler away for imaging, leaving Dwayne and me in a small waiting area. I sank into one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs, suddenly exhausted.
Dwayne remained standing, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable as he stared at the wall.
"He's going to be okay," I said quietly.
He sighed. "I hope he will be. Are you fine too? This must have been a lot for you. And is the baby fine?”
Taken aback by his show of care.
I responded. “Don't worry about me, I'm fine.” I smiled lightly and he gave me a small smile back.
Twenty minutes passed. Finally, Dr. Leo returned, holding a tablet with what I assumed were the scan results.
"Good news," he said, and I felt Dwayne's entire body relax slightly beside me. "No broken bones. He's going to be very sore for the next few days, possibly weeks, but there's no permanent damage."
"Thank God," I breathed.
"He might just feel some pain," Dr. Leo continued. "I'm prescribing pain medication and muscle relaxants. He needs to rest, to avoid putting unnecessary strain on his body. And I'd recommend having someone check his wheelchair, if it moved unexpectedly, there might be a mechanical issue that needs addressing."
"I'll have it looked at immediately," Dwayne said.
"Can we see him?" I asked.
"Of course. He's being moved to a recovery room now. He'll need to stay for observation for a few hours, but barring any complications, he should be able to go home this evening."
Relief flooded through me. "Thank you, Doctor."
We were being directed toward Tyler's recovery room when I heard rapid footsteps behind us, someone running.
"Wait! Where is he? Where's father?"
I turned to see Dante rushing down the hall, his face flushed, his eyes wild with worry.
"Dante," I said, and he immediately zeroed in on me.
"Are you okay?" he asked, reaching me in three long strides. His hands went to my shoulders, his eyes scanning my face like he was checking for injuries. "Are you hurt? Did something happen to you?"
"I'm fine," I assured him. "I'm completely fine."
"You're sure?" His hands moved to my arms, my hands, like he needed to physically confirm I was unharmed. "The baby?"
"We're both fine," I said gently.
Some of the panic left his face, replaced by confusion. "How's father? What happened?"
"He fell from his wheelchair," Dwayne explained, his voice flat. "We brought him to the hospital. He's okay, no broken bones, no internal bleeding. Just bruised and in pain."
Dante's shoulders sagged with relief. "Thank God." Then he pulled me into a hug, his arms wrapping around me tightly, his face buried in my hair.
I hugged him back, feeling the tension in his body, the way he was shaking slightly.
"Excuse me," a nurse interrupted gently. "Are you family? Mr. Belmar is asking for you."
"Yes.” Dwayne said.
"Come with me, please."
We started to follow the nurse down another corridor when I heard it, the click-clack of expensive heels moving fast, almost running, echoing off the hospital tiles.
"Tyler! Tyler, where are you? Someone tell me where my husband is!"
Cynthia came around the corner like a whirlwind, and I actually did a double-take.
And she was frantic, truly frantic, her eyes wild and unfocused as she looked around the emergency room like she couldn't process what she was seeing.
"Where is he?" she demanded, her voice shrill.
"Mother," Dante said, reaching for her. "He's fine. Calm down."
"Calm down?" She whirled on him. "Your father is in the hospital and you want me to calm down?"
The nurse who'd been leading us looked alarmed. "Ma'am, you need to…"
"I need to see my husband!"
Dwayne moved forward, his voice calm but firm. "Mother, stop. Father is fine. But you're causing a scene."
Cynthia stopped, turning to look at him with wild eyes. For a moment, I thought she might argue, might push past him too. But something in Dwayne's expression made her hesitate.
"He's really okay?" she asked, her voice suddenly small, almost childlike, almost fake. Or am I imagining it?
"He's really okay," Dwayne confirmed. "Come with us. We'll take you to him."
She was acting weird as hell. I wonder what's going on with her.