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bruising, a long, horrible gaping gash across her right cheek. He wanted to touch her but feared he could do her more harm than good.
    A bystander was already on the phone, calling 911 as Vince bent over Amber, touching her face gently with a trembling hand. “Sweetheart, can you hear me? Amber?”
    No response. She lay on the ground, lips parted, eyes closed, her clothes askew, her body limp and scratched and bleeding.
    She looked…
    “God, no! Someone, please, help my wife!”

Chapter Four
    Vince leapt from his chair at first sight of the doctor, practically running toward him on watery legs. He’d remained in the waiting room alone for hours, refusing his sister’s offer for her to come down and sit with him.
    He didn’t think he could stand her uncomfortable chitchat. She only wanted to give reassurance, but listening to Stasia drone on about nothing wasn’t his idea of comfort.
    Being alone with his racing, guilty thoughts hadn’t been a real comfort either, but it was all he had.
    “How is she?” he asked the doctor, his gaze snagging on the man’s name stitched in blue on his white jacket. “Dr. Gilmore, is my wife all right?”
    The pure, overwhelming panic he’d felt when he first saw Amber crumpled on the street, blood streaming from her face, all came back to him in a rush. For one heart-stopping moment, he’d thought she was dead.
    Thank Christ that hadn’t been true. He’d said about a thousand prayers since that moment, all of them of him wishing for one thing only.
    Please God, make sure my wife is okay.
    The grim look on Dr. Gilmore’s face didn’t ease Vince’s overactive worries. “Your wife has extensive damage to her head, face and shoulders. She broke her right arm so badly we had to operate on it immediately. We might have to perform another surgery before she’s released.”
    Hearing the word “released” was such a relief Vince almost collapsed onto the ground. “Thank God. That I can handle.”
    “But, Mr. Renaldi.” The doctor reached out and grabbed Vince around the elbow, steadying him. He hadn’t realized he’d been swaying on his feet. “Your wife…she is in a coma.”
    Vince frowned, unable to understand what the doctor just said. “A coma?”
    Gilmore nodded. “At first we believed her simply unconscious. We operated on her arm, which we put her under anesthesia for, but she hasn’t come to yet. All signs point at a coma. I’m sorry.”
    He was sorry. Vince’s entire world exploded at those simple words and all the doctor could say was “I’m sorry”.
    “Did the anesthesia do this to her?” Vince asked tightly.
    “No.” The doctor shook his head. “Her head injuries are worse than we thought. Or so we believe they are. We’ll know more once she comes out of the coma. We’ll perform tests.”
    “What if she…” Vince paused, choking on the words. “What if she—never comes out of the coma?”
    Gilmore’s eyes dimmed. “That’s something we’ll have to discuss if it indeed happens.”
    Vince’s mind spun. What if it happened? What if Amber never woke up? If he never saw her pretty, laughing face, never kissed those lips, never heard that sweet voice whispering she loved him ever again…
    He didn’t know what he would do.
    “Thank you, Doctor,” Vince said, his voice wooden, his emotions in turmoil. He stepped back, letting the doctor escape, and he watched as Gilmore left, his soft-soled shoes squeaking against the shiny surface of the floor as he sped away. On to save another life, Vince supposed. Or devastate another family with horrific news.
    He fell into a chair without thought, staring out the window at the night sky, the lights that still dotted the multitude of buildings spread out before him. His wife could end up in a coma for the rest of her life, and what then? What would he do then?
    It was all his fault. He’d yelled at her, argued with her and made her angry. She’d run away from him. She’d been trying to escape him