He dropped the coffee and the paper on the floor, ignoring the pain in his leg where the hot liquid scalded through his pants. He leaned over the bed.
“Babe? Taylor? Can you hear me?”
The eyes swiveled to him, and he swore he saw recognition. Without looking away, he depressed the emergency button to summon the nurse. She answered through the intercom with an impatient, “What?”
“Get Dr. Benedict. She’s awake.”
“What?” All the annoyance was gone. “Is she really?”
“Yes, yes. Now get the doctor.” He licked his lips.
Taylor’s gray eyes crinkled, and her lip moved on the left side.
“Oh, God, Taylor. I knew you’d wake up. I knew you would. Welcome back, my love.”
She started to move, but he laid a hand gently on her chest. It was taking all his effort to hold back tears.
“No, no, don’t try to move, you’re in a halo. You got shot, sweetheart. Copeland shot you, in the head. You’ve been asleep for a while. But you’re okay, baby. You’re going to be okay.”
