What was he? "I'm his emergency contact. Marcus Johnson." The woman at the desk typed, and her face didn't tell him anything. And the not knowing was its own kind of torture.
"He's in the back," she said. "The doctor will want to speak with you. Have a seat. Someone will—" "Is he alive?" Marcus said.
He didn't mean for it to come out that blunt. It just came out. "Please, I just need to know if he's alive. I've done this before. I can't sit in a chair not knowing. Is he alive?"
Something in the woman's face softened at that, at the I've-done-this-before, and she leaned in slightly. "He's alive," she said quietly. "He's stable. Let me get the doctor." Marcus put both hands on the counter and let his head drop and just breathed for a second.
Alive. Stable. Two words. He'd have given anything for those two words 5 years ago and never gotten them. He straightened up, and that was when he heard fast footsteps behind him and a voice call his name.
"Marcus." He turned. Emily was running toward him across the waiting room, coat half-on, phone in her hand, her face white with terror. "I got your message. I was—Where is he? Is he—"
"He's alive," Marcus said and caught her by both arms because she looked like she might go down. "Emily, listen to me. He's alive. He's stable. They just told me."
"He collapsed, but he's alive." Emily's whole body sagged against him. And for a second, she just held on to the front of his jacket with both fists shaking. "Oh my God," she whispered. "Oh my God."
"I thought when I saw your message—all it said was collapsed. I thought—" "I know. I know what you thought." He held her steady. "He's okay. Or he's here. He's alive."
"That's what we know. We'll find out the rest together. Okay? I'm not going anywhere." She looked up at him, and there were tears standing in her eyes, and something passed between them in that moment that hadn't been fully said yet.