For a while Mark had to wait alone in the lobby. He spent that weightless time planning.
When Chloe was awake again, he would tell her: I couldn’t let you go.
He would say: Because you’re stronger than you think. Because you loved me. Because your heart is too rare. Because you’re you.
He saw himself beside her, stroking her hand; he saw her eyelids fluttering.
Please believe me, he would say. Please come find me now.
From the bank of pay phones he called his father, and Lewis; both of them arrived within minutes.
Before long his father had put his arms around Mark’s shoulders, and he could feel Sam’s grief in the shaking of his arms and chest.
Connie Pelham arrived, soon after, bearing Chloe’s coat and purse and cell phone. Jacob was not with her. Lewis took Chloe’s things from her; Sam wrote down Connie’s number, saying very little. Connie seemed to understand she should not stay.
When she’d gone Sam opened Chloe’s phone and found a number for her parents, and made the call to them. Lewis dug in Chloe’s purse and gave her insurance card to the nurses, and spoke with them for a while, then sat beside Mark.
Before Chloe’s parents arrived, a doctor—a young woman, dirty-blond and chubby-cheeked—at last called Mark’s name.
Even before he could brace himself, the doctor told Mark that Chloe was awake, that she would live (“It’s actually pretty hard to overdose on Valium,” was what the doctor said, frowning); she said the hospital would need to keep her overnight for observation, and that—if Mark wasn’t actually her husband—she was afraid they couldn’t release Chloe to his care.
“Her parents are coming soon,” his father said, beside him.
“I need to talk to her,” Mark said.
The doctor’s eyes moved away from his, to Sam’s, and then back. Mark listened to her speak; then she turned and retreated to the innards of the hospital. He wanted to follow her, but his father and Lewis were already guiding him away, and Mark would have let them carry him, would have gone anywhere in time, would have vanished entirely in order not to have heard the doctor’s words:
I’m sorry, Mr. Fife. Chloe doesn’t want to see you.