Chapter 76: Holding On Through the Wait
Chapter 76: Holding On Through the Wait
Lydia stepped out of the bus just across from the hospital entrance. The morning was calm, the breeze gentler than the day before, and the sun had barely risen. The hospital building stood quietly in front of her, its glass windows reflecting the pale morning sky. She took a deep breath before walking in through the revolving doors.
Her heart beat a little faster as she entered the familiar corridor that led to Dennis’s ward. Everything looked the same, but it all felt different. The hum of machines, the scent of antiseptic, and the occasional sound of footsteps on the tiled floor surrounded her. As she turned the corner to the ICU waiting area, she saw Mr and Mrs James seated in the corner. They looked like they hadn’t moved an inch all night.
Mrs James's hair was tied back loosely, and her eyes looked tired, red at the corners, like she had cried quietly through the night. Mr James had his arms folded across his chest and his eyes fixed on a point in the distance as though deep in prayer.
When they noticed Lydia approaching, they both looked up.
“Good morning,” Lydia greeted softly.
Mrs James stood up immediately and embraced her. “Thank you for coming, dear.”
Lydia held her gently. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”
“They didn’t let us stay inside the room with him all night,” Mr James said. “But we stayed as close as they allowed. He’s stable, but still unconscious.”
“I’d like to go in to see him if that’s okay,” Lydia said.
Mrs James nodded. “You should. I think he’d want that.”
Lydia approached the nurses’ station and politely asked to see Dennis. After checking with the supervising nurse, she was given the go-ahead. One of the nurses helped her sanitise her hands and showed her where to pick up the disposable gown and gloves. Lydia followed every instruction carefully, determined not to make a mistake. Her heart raced as she walked into the dim, quiet room where Dennis lay still, surrounded by wires and machines that beeped steadily.
She paused by the door for a moment, just looking at him.
His face was pale, and he looked like he was sleeping—only this time, it wasn’t peaceful. She walked slowly over to his bedside and took a chair next to him. Her gloved hand reached out to touch his.
“Dennis…” she whispered, her voice already shaking.
Tears were threatening to fall again, but she held them back—for now. “I don’t know if you can hear me. But I’m going to believe that you can.”
She took a deep breath and continued, “I’m so sorry. Last night, before everything happened… a weird thought crossed my mind. I let doubt slip in, even after all you've done to be there for me. And I hate that I did. You’ve been nothing but supportive, and I should’ve never let my fears speak louder than what I knew to be true.”
Her fingers tightened around his hand.
“I’m wearing the perfume you sent,” she said with a small smile, even though her voice cracked. “It smells really good. It smells like… like how I feel when I’m around you. Safe. Loved.”
She leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to the back of his hand. “Please pull through, Dennis. I need you to come back. We all do.”
She stayed by his side for a few more minutes, quietly talking to him, before a nurse gently reminded her to give space for others to come in later. Lydia nodded and left the room slowly, unwilling but understanding.
As she stepped back into the hallway, she saw a doctor speaking with Mr and Mrs James. She walked over quietly and caught part of the conversation.
“…depending on how he responds this morning, we may be able to proceed with the second surgery this evening,” the doctor was saying.
Mrs James let out a breath of relief and then quickly crossed her arms over her chest, whispering, “Thank You, Jesus.”
“But?” Mr. James asked, sensing the pause in the doctor’s tone.
“The success of the surgery also depends on how stable he remains,” the doctor explained. “And after this procedure, we’re expecting him to regain consciousness—if all goes well.”
Lydia saw the mixture of hope and fear wash over both parents’ faces. Mrs James immediately closed her eyes and began whispering a prayer under her breath, her lips barely moving. Lydia gently placed a hand on her shoulder.
A few minutes later, Detective Philip arrived at the hospital. He looked tired, but alert, his expression serious as always. After greeting Dennis’s parents and expressing his continued support, he turned to Lydia.
“I came to check on Dennis’s progress. I heard there might be another procedure today?”
Lydia nodded. “Yes… If he pulls through the morning, the second surgery will happen tonight.”
Philip gave a thoughtful nod. “Good. Let’s hope he holds on.”
There was a brief silence before Lydia asked, “Any news from the face recognition analysis?”
He exhaled. “Still in progress. The system flagged a couple of possibilities, but none are conclusive yet. I was going to invite you in again this week, but given everything… We’ll reschedule after Dennis’s surgery.”
“I appreciate that,” Lydia replied. “Thank you for checking in.”
“I’ll be in touch,” he said, and with a polite nod, he left just as quietly as he came.
Once he was gone, Lydia turned to Dennis’s parents again. “Have either of you eaten anything today?”
They both shook their heads.
“We’re not hungry, sweetheart,” Mrs James said. “We just want him to be okay.”
“I understand,” Lydia said gently. “But you need strength too. Let me get something for you from the cafeteria.”
“No, no—don’t worry,” Mr James began.
But Lydia interrupted him softly, “Please let me. Just something light to keep your strength up.”
He hesitated, then reached into his pocket and pulled out his debit card. “At least let me pay for it.”
“You really don’t have to—”
“I want to,” he said firmly.
Reluctantly, she accepted the card and made her way downstairs to the hospital’s cafeteria. The air smelled of freshly brewed coffee and bread, and the quiet hum of a morning crowd filled the space. She bought two plates of jollof rice and chicken, three bottles of water, and a fruit bowl to share. As she waited for the food to be packed, she thought about Dennis lying upstairs and quietly prayed in her heart for a miracle.
When she returned upstairs, both parents looked surprised and moved by the care she’d taken in picking the food. She laid everything out neatly on a side table and brought over chairs so they could eat together.
“Thank you, Lydia,” Mrs James said with a small, grateful smile. “You’re such a blessing.”
“We’re in this together,” Lydia said, passing them their meals.
They all sat quietly, the only sound being the clinking of cutlery and the occasional sip of water. But even in silence, there was a strange comfort—three people brought together by one person they loved deeply, eating a quiet meal while holding on to hope that he’d come back to them.
As they finished eating, Mrs James reached for Lydia’s hand. “I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. But today… I believe Dennis is fighting to stay with us.”
Lydia nodded, her eyes damp but hopeful. “I believe that too.”
And as the morning sun grew stronger outside the hospital window, they all waited—together—for what the day would unfold.