So far I’ve rewritten all of Chapter 1 to show it from Myles’/Emmitt’s perspective, as well as a random scene from Chapter 3. Today’s post is a bit longer, and is a scene from Chapter 9 that I thought would be good to see from Myles’/Emmitt’s POV:
Random Scene – Chapter 9
The regular chirping of the heart rate monitor soothed Emmitt’s nerves. Many people might not find it comforting, hating hospitals in general, but to Emmitt it meant Nash was doing well.
Emmitt’s mood had swung sharply from cheery, at the turn his life had recently taken, to alarmed when he’d received Harley’s panicked call using Nash’s phone. As much as he recognized Nash would be facing a difficult next couple of months, at least he now knew his fiancé could expect a full recovery.
Nash stirred on the bed as Clancy stood on the other side of it, checking the IV. Clancy looked down at Nash and smiled one of those jaunty smiles the nurses gave patients to boost their moods. “How are you feeling?”
Emmitt put his hands on the armrests ready to rise, but stilled again when Nash spoke.
“My fiancé,” he croaked. “Was he hurt? Is he okay?”
While it was heartwarming that Nash was concerned about him—all things considered—it was mildly concerning that he didn’t remember the accident enough to know Emmitt hadn’t been involved in it. Not entirely unusual, though.
Clancy glanced at Emmitt. “Oh, no. Don’t worry, Nash, you were the only one hurt. Dr. Burlingham wasn’t even in the car, and Harley and Oliver are both fine.” He paused. “What do you remember?”
Nash paused a moment and stared blankly at Clancy before replying. “No,” he rasped. “I don’t remember the accident.”
Emmitt stood and stepped to the other side of the bed. “You have a mild concussion in addition to your arm injury. Don’t worry. It’s not unusual for people to not be able to remember the accident.”
“Okay,” Nash slurred. He appeared to still be a bit dazed from the anesthetic.
Nash’s left arm was in a cast, so Emmitt picked up Nash’s right hand and held it between his palms. “I’ll go speak to Dr. Beltran. He performed your surgery, so he’ll come in and assess you. I can’t…obviously…but between the concussion and the infection risk from the compound fracture, you’ll probably be spending a night here in the hospital.”
Poor Nash appeared so pale, muddled, and in obvious pain, Emmitt wanted desperately to be able to ease all of it instantly. If only such a thing were possible. He raised Nash’s hand to his lips and kissed the back of it, then patted it gently and carefully laid it back on the bed.
Nash stared blankly, then gave a weak smile. Emmitt turned and left the room to find his partner, Dr. Jordan Beltran.
When they returned, Nash seemed more wakeful, but also seemed further distressed. Emmitt took a deep breath to calm his nerves. Jordan glanced at the Patient Controlled Anesthesia pump and asked, “How’s your pain level, Nash, on the comparative pain scale from one to ten?”
Nash opened his mouth, then paused, as if thinking before he replied, “Eight. At least. It’s pretty bad.”
Jordan nodded. “Use your PCA as needed. I’ll repeat all this tomorrow, after your anesthesia has completely worn off, but to ease your mind for now I’ll tell you that your prognosis is good. For an open fracture, this one was minor. The debridement and irrigation went smoothly, and internal fixation was successful. You’re all closed up.
“Antibiotics were started promptly in the ER, and we’ll continue an antibiotic regimen until you’re released, possibly tomorrow. You did require a transfusion in the ER…three units. This cast will come off in about three weeks so we can remove the stitches, then you’ll get a fresh cast for the remainder.”
He pulled out his mini light to check Nash’s eye dilation, then used an ophthalmoscope to look inside the fundi. He proceeded to check eye movement for a more thorough concussion check than he’d been able to accomplish when Nash was unconscious.
“I’d still call this concussion on the mild end of the scale. Myles said you don’t remember the accident, is that right?”
“Right,” Nash replied. “And Clancy said no one else was hurt?”
“Correct. It wasn’t a car accident, although you were in the backseat of a Jeep when it happened. Apparently you had your arms in the air enjoying the feel of the rushing air, and a large bird swooped down and slammed into your arm.”
“Huh. Well, leave it to me to find such a crazy was to end up in the ER.” Nash reached up to touch the bandage on his forehead.
“You’ve got some bruising and a few sutures there. Nothing major. Tell me about the last thing you do remember,” Jordan asked. “Do you remember what you did this morning?”
“Uh, had breakfast and went for a ride with Harley and Oliver.”
Emmitt narrowed his eyes. Did Nash not remember that they’d been transferring the last of his belongings to Emmitt’s apartment? “Where were you going?”
“I…uh…don’t remember that part.”
Emmitt stilled, and Nash’s panicked mein began to make sense. “What did you do yesterday?”
“It’s…a little fuzzy. I’m sure it’ll come back to me soon. That’s not a big deal, is it?”
It was a huge deal. Colossal. Emmitt’s heart sank. If Nash didn’t remember yesterday, there was a good chance he was missing a couple months, at least. “I think it might be.”
“What’s the last thing you do remember?” Jordan asked.
“Coming home from work. Hanging out before dinner.”
Emmitt willed himself not to fidget, and tried not to project the apprehension that flowed through him at Nash’s evasive words. “One more question.” He took a deep breath, fearing the reply, but he had to know. “When you woke up here a few minutes ago, you asked Clancy if your fiancé was okay. To whom were you referring?”
Will Nash find love again? Of course he will. Will he go about it in the usual manner? Now that’s another story entirely.
Jilted by his fiancé two weeks before their wedding, Nash Marino’s outlook on life in general, and love in particular, is jaded. After months of couch-surfing, Nash is fed up. He’s sick and tired of his living conditions, worn out by the demands of his nursing job, and despairs of ever finding love again. In fact, he doesn’t think he’s capable of true love. Monogamy, commitment, companionship, and regular sex…that’s all he wants, and the sooner, the better.
When Nash crosses paths with a like-minded man who’s also in need of a live-in nurse for a beloved relative, Nash figures all his problems are solved. Matters are complicated by a freak accident and amnesia. When Nash’s marriage of convenience scheme is muddied by notions of love after his memory reboot, will their plans go awry, or will Nash’s new outlook on life be just what the doctor ordered?