****
Tyler paced the length of the waiting room battling the emotions wreaking havoc throughout his body. It all seemed so unreal - seeing Dallas in Milwaukee for the first time in six months, and then having to lie about being her husband in order to ride in the ambulance with her. And if that weren’t enough, he had to relive it all just moments ago when he was questioned by the police. God, I can’t believe this happened. He ran a nervous hand down his face, and then jammed it into his front pants pocket. One minute he was admiring Dallas from a distance and in the next moment he witnessed her being run down by an idiot driver.
He dropped down hard onto a nearby paisley printed chair and rested his head against the cold, dingy wall. Through half-opened lids, he glanced around the sparsely furnished room. With small groups of people scattered about, he sat trying to tune out the chatter going on around him. Mixed feelings rattled in his chest knowing he’d have to face Dallas soon. Sure he was glad to have spotted her hours ago, but when their eyes connected, and all of the old feelings returned, he knew he wasn’t over her. Despite that fact, he couldn’t go back. She’d been the only woman to reject him, and the night she walked out of his life, a part of him left with her. Now here he was, pretending to be her husband in order to get word on her condition. He grunted at the irony of it all.
“Mr. Marcel?” A doctor called out several times before it dawned on Tyler that it was he the doctor was calling. Tyler jumped up from his seat. “It’s Hollister. Tyler Hollister. My wife uses her maiden name.”
“Oh, okay. Well, I’m Doctor Malone,” he said as they shook hands.
“How is she?”
“She’s a very lucky lady.” The doctor, short enough for Tyler to see the bald spot on top of his head, glanced at the chart in his hand. He pushed up the glasses that were perched on the end of his nose. “Your wife has a mild concussion and a broken leg. She had a collapsed lung which we were able to repair. And though her left shoulder and ribs are seriously bruised, there’s no permanent damage. You’re going to notice a few cuts on her face and neck, but they should heal without much scarring. It’ll take a few weeks, but I have no reason to doubt that she’ll make a full recovery.”
Tyler blew out a shaky breath and wiped his forehead with his shirt sleeve. Part of him wanted to turn and leave the building now that he knew Dallas would be okay, but the other part of him wouldn’t let him move.
“Mr. Hollister,” the doctor continued, “your wife is very dehydrated and her blood pressure is dangerously low. Has she ever had a problem with her blood pressure?” He removed his glasses and stuck them into his jacket pocket. “Not as far as I know.”
“Well, we’re going to continue to monitor her over the next couple of days, get some fluids into her, and see how it goes.”
“So what would cause those things?”
“Exhaustion and malnutrition would be my first guess.”
Her workaholic lifestyle must have caught up with her. “Uh, can I see her?”
“Well, she’s still—”
“Please. I need to see her.”
Moments later, Tyler pushed the door open to Dallas’s hospital room. He eased in and stood just inside the entrance while the nurse finished checking the monitors. “You can move closer,” she said on her way out.