At last, a doctor entered the waiting room. Xavier had given his permission for the doctor to share his medical information with Audrey, Jae, and Luke, so the doctor wasted no time and got right to the good news: “There’s no sign of a brain bleed. While concussions should always be taken seriously and have long-term effects, it’s possible he’ll heal quickly without lingering issues. Quite a feat considering what he’s been through.”

Audrey burst into tears, and Jae put an arm around her. She noticed he was wiping his eyes too.

“What about the rest of him?” Luke asked.

“Again, considering what he went through, it’s astonishing he’s not in worse condition. Four cracked ribs. Contusions all over. His left shoulder is worrisome—he’s likely to need another round of surgery to repair the new damage to the joint. His left clavicle is fractured. Like the ribs, there’s not much we can do for it beyond pain management. We’re going to wrap his ribs and immobilize his arm for two, three days max. Surgery—if he ends up needing it—can wait until he’s in better shape and the concussion is no longer an issue.”

“Can I see him?” Audrey asked.

The doctor nodded. “We’re keeping him overnight for observation. He’s being moved to his room now. He’s taken a pain medication that will help him sleep, so it may be a while before he’s up for talking, but you can make yourselves comfortable in his room.” His gaze scanned the three of them and he gave a faint smile. “I can tell the nurses it’s okay to bend the rules about only patients using the shower in the rooms.”

They all looked a wreck, but Luke might take the prize with mud caked in his hair, streaking his face, and down his arms. The former SEAL laughed. “Thank you, Doctor.”

After the doctor left the room, Audrey collapsed onto a chair and buried her face in her hands, letting out the full-body sob she hadn’t permitted herself when she saw him caught in the slide.

The only difference between then and now was these were tears of joy.

The last time Xavier had been hospitalized after a failed op, he’d woken to find his girlfriend had visited and left while he was sleeping, asking Chris to let him know that she’d been by to see him and wouldn’t be back. Now here he was again, and his shoulder—and pretty much every other part of his body—was on fire with pain. So much pain, he hadn’t even noticed the broken clavicle, but it did explain the extra misery on his left side.

His best escape from the agony was sleep, so he’d grudgingly agreed to the medication that would knock him out.