“Goddamn it.” I placed my arm over my eyes, not wanting to see the pity she was also trying to hide, the IV pulling from the movement.

“How about some water?” she asked. The ice rattled as she held it close to me. “Just a sip?”

“Get it away from me.”

She set the cup back down, and the beeping of the machines were the only sounds that filled the room until I heard, “How’s he feeling? Any nausea from the anesthesia?”

A small shift of my arm showed me a nurse had entered.

“He’s in a terrible amount of pain,” my mother replied. “Please give him something else. Whatever you have him on now isn’t working.”

“I’ll let the doctor know.” The rubber of the nurse’s shoes squeaked as she came over to the bed. There was less tugging on my skin as she adjusted the IV. “If you’re feeling up to it, I can get you some soup. Maybe a few crackers?”

“Caleb?” my mother inquired when I didn’t answer. “Would you like that?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Honey, you have to gain some strength—”

“I’m not fucking hungry!”

“Let’s give him some time,” the nurse said. “The anesthesia is going to take a while to wear off. Some sleep would help him tremendously, and I’ll see about increasing the pain meds.”

The sound of the nurse’s soles quieted as she left the room, and my mother said, “Can I do anything for you?”

“Yes.” The word hummed through my chest, adding to the flames that had already ignited, a throbbing that had me clenching the blanket with my other hand. “You can give me some silence.”

“Pamela, let’s go get some coffee,” my father said. “We’ll be back, son.”

Once they were gone, the beeping was all that was left.

And the fucking thoughts in my head.

But those were as loud as any screams.

Three

“How’s your pain?” a nurse asked from my bedside.

That was the first thing everyone asked whenever they entered my room, followed by a series of much more invasive questions. Privacy no longer existed. I couldn’t even take a goddamn piss on my own since they hadn’t removed the catheter yet.

“It’s intolerable,” I growled.

All I could feel was pain. The only time it stopped was when the medication made me pass out, and then the agony would wake me again.

“On a scale from one to ten—”

“Ten.”

“I see,” she said and moved over to my IV. “Hopefully, I can help with that a little.” She began to play with the IV. “I saw in your chart that physical therapy came by and you were able to get on your feet.”

“I stood for about a second.”

That was all I had lasted before the intensity of the burning caused me to throw up on the bed.