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Two days ago, Don left, and Blythe hasn’t heard from him since then because of an argument. Dixie has often played a role in their conflicts, but this time felt different—words were exchanged that truly impacted both of them. Blythe found herself needing space to reflect on their conversation and what the future might hold. Despite her desire to allow some time for clarity, she couldn't help but worry about Don's whereabouts and well-being.
With that in mind, she decided to reach out to Ryan. Although she usually prefers to handle things on her own, she needed her son's help this time. She dialed his number, hoping to catch him, and waited with a mixture of hope and concern, but her heart dropped when the call went straight to voicemail.
Don sat in his hotel room, reflecting on everything that transpired two days ago. While he recognized the fight was trivial, he felt it was important to hold his ground this time. Both he and Blythe needed to find a way to coexist with Dixie in the picture, and simply avoiding the issue wouldn’t work. He regretted leaving Blythe without a word, but sometimes standing firm was necessary for progress.
Feeling a little uncertain, Don decided to check in with his son, Ryan. He hesitated at first—like Blythe, he preferred to keep Ryan out of their disagreements—but this situation felt different. With a deep breath, he dialed Ryan's number. However, the call went to voicemail. Intriguingly, neither Blythe nor Don realized that both had reached out to Ryan, and it was rather unusual for him not to pick up.
Ryan had a nagging feeling that something was off with his parents. While occasional disagreements were nothing new, this time felt different. He noticed that his dad hadn’t been sleeping at home, and it was unusual for his mom not to reach out to him during his shifts. In that moment, Ryan found himself grappling with uncertainty. Should he reach out to them for reassurance, or give them space to sort things out on their own?
Feeling restless at home while Sam was still at work, Ryan decided a run would help clear his mind. The fresh air felt good, and for a while, he enjoyed the clarity that came with the rhythm of his footsteps. But then, something caught his eye. He looked to his right and saw light after that, everything went dark.
Meanwhile, Blythe grew increasingly anxious as she tried to call Ryan multiple times, only to be met with silence. Each unanswered call heightened her concern. After the fifth attempt, she decided to reach out to Sam, hoping he might know where Ryan was.
“Hey Blythe,” Sam answered, sounding a bit puzzled.
“I tried to reach Ryan, but he isn’t picking up. Do you have any idea where he might be?” Blythe explained, her voice tinged with worry.
“Hmm, I’m at work, so I assumed he is home,” Sam replied thoughtfully. “How many times did you call?”
“Six times,” Blythe replied, feeling a sense of urgency.
“Oh, I see. I really have to run, a patient just arrived,” Sam said quickly before hanging up.
Blythe’s concern deepened; her maternal instincts kicked in. Knowing something didn’t feel right, she decided to drive over to Ryan and Sam’s house, determined to find out if her son was okay.
Shortly before she arrived at their house, Blythe looked at her phone. Sam was calling. "Sam, did you hear from Ryan?" Sam interrupted her, choking back a sob.
"Blythe, there was an accident."
"What happened?" Blythe asked, anxiety gripping her. Who was hurt—her son, her husband? Without thinking, she started driving to the hospital.
"Ryan," Sam said, and Blythe's heart sank. "He was in an accident." Sam's voice trembled as she tried to explain, tears streaming down her face. Blythe's mind raced to the worst-case scenario.
"Okay, I can get through this," Sam told herself. "He was out for a run when a car hit him. He arrived a bit ago, and they took him in for surgery, but I don’t know anything else." Sam began to cry openly, her words tumbling out in a flood of emotion. Blythe didn’t know what to say. Ryan was hurt, and nobody knew how serious it was.
"I’m on my way. I’ll be there in 10 minutes. Everything is going to be okay," Blythe reassured her.
After exchanging a few more words of comfort, they hung up. Driving more recklessly than usual, Blythe wondered if Don already knew about the accident. Should she call him? She felt it was ridiculous not to inform him, but a small part of her thought he deserved to be left in the dark. Ultimately, it was their son, so she decided to dial his number. However, Don didn’t answer. Blythe left a voicemail asking him to call her back.
She didn’t remember much about the drive. After parking the car, she hurried into the emergency room to find Sam. As she scanned the area, she finally spotted her. “Sam,” she called out. Sam turned and walked toward Blythe. They embraced, and Sam cried some more. Blythe wanted to cry too, but she knew she needed to be strong for Sam. She could save her tears for later, when she was alone. “Do you have any new information?”
Sam shook her head. “No, no one wants to talk to me. Did you call Don?” she asked.
“Yes, I tried, but he didn’t pick up. We are…” Blythe stopped, unsure of how to answer. Sam regained her composure. “Are you two fighting?” Sam asked. Blythe simply nodded, still at a loss for words to explain.
“Ryan had a feeling something was going on between you two; he seemed kind of anxious the last few days.” Sam paused and looked at Blythe, realizing that was enough to confirm there was indeed an issue between them.
“It was a stupid fight over Dixie. I haven’t talked to him in over two days, and I don’t know where he is. I wanted to ask Ryan if he could call Don and talk to him.”
“I can try calling him,” Sam suggested. A few minutes went by.
“And?” Blythe prompted.
“He didn’t pick up either,” Sam replied.
Not knowing what to do, both women sat down in the waiting room. Hours passed, and they hadn’t heard anything from Ryan or Don. They both tried calling Don, but he still didn’t pick up. After four long hours, the doctor approached them.
“To start, Ryan is still alive and on his way to the ICU. However, the right side of his body has sustained significant injuries: he has a broken arm in two places, a broken leg, a fractured ankle, and a broken hip. He also has internal injuries; we had to remove his spleen because it was beyond repair, and his liver needed stitches. Given the trauma his body has endured, we’ve put him in a medically induced coma. We will check back tomorrow to see if he can breathe on his own.”
The doctor paused, glanced at Sam, and then left. Both women hugged each other and began to cry; the news was overwhelming.
“Can we… can we see him?” Blythe asked, her voice trembling.
“Yes, let’s go,” the doctor replied. Sam, being the stronger of the two, switched into “doctor mode.” She knew the injuries were severe, but she believed her husband was stronger than that.
When they arrived at the ICU, Sam stopped in front of Ryan’s room. “This is going to be brutal. Remember, he is still your son,” she wanted Blythe to mentally prepare herself. They stepped inside and gasped; Ryan looked so different, so fragile in that hospital bed.
With a few quick steps, Blythe reached Ryan’s side, grabbed his left hand, and squeezed it. “I’m here, honey. Mom is here,” she said softly, stroking his hair. She was shocked by how Ryan looked; his right side was almost entirely in casts, and a tube was down his throat to help him breathe. Turning around, she saw Sam beside her.
“Sam is here as well, Ry,” she told her son. And there they stood for some time, united in their love and worry.
Meanwhile, Don grew increasingly anxious as he tried to call Ryan several more times, but Ryan still hadn’t picked up. He noticed that Blythe had called, but he didn’t want to answer, so he decided to go out for dinner instead.
Back at the hospital, both women sat on either side of Ryan. “Did you try to call Don again?” Sam asked. “No, but I’m going to try again. Do you need anything to drink?” “No, thank you,” Sam replied. Blythe then leaned down to kiss her son on the head before leaving, eager to return to her son’s bedside.
While waiting for her coffee, she kept calling Don, but he still didn’t answer. With each call, her frustration grew over Don’s lack of response. She returned to Sam and Ryan and said, “He’s still not picking up.” She took a seat beside them, and that’s how the three of them spent the night at Ryan’s bedside, hoping and praying that he would make it through.
The next morning, Blythe woke up, she looked at Ryan and said, “Morning, Ry,” as she stood up and gently stroked his hair. Glancing over, she saw Sam still asleep. “I’m going to get some breakfast,” she told Ryan before leaving the room.
Fortunately, her phone still had some battery left, so she tried calling Don again. She knew he had a shift that morning, and her husband needed to know that Ryan wouldn’t be coming to work.
With breakfast in hand, she returned to the ICU and found Sam awake. “Morning! I got us some breakfast,” she said. Sam yawned and reached for the coffee. “Thank you,” he replied. They ate their breakfast in silence.
“Ryan had a shift today, right?” Sam asked.
“Yes, and I tried to call Don again,” Blythe answered.
“Should I call him and tell him Ryan was in an accident?” Sam offered.
“If you want to, you can,” Blythe replied.
Sam looked at her phone and frowned. “Oh no, my phone died. I’ll be right back; I need to charge it.”
Seconds later, Blythe felt a gentle movement in her hand. All the while, she hadn’t let go of her son’s hand.
She looked at his hand. “Can you do that again, baby?” she asked hopefully, feeling a tiny twitch. She looked up, and Ryan’s head was slightly turned toward her. “Ryan, open your eyes,” she encouraged him. After a moment, he managed to open his left eye. Blythe was ecstatic. “That’s it, honey! You’re doing great.”
Just then, Sam returned to the room. Blythe looked up, a smile on her face. “He’s waking up!” Sam approached Ryan’s bedside. “Hey, Ry, can you open your eyes again?” This time, both of his eyes opened. “That’s it! You’re doing great!” Ryan's face moved slightly, confused as he tried to reach for the tube in his throat.
“You have a tube down your throat to help you breathe,” Sam explained, but Ryan was still disoriented. Blythe gently held his hand. “Oh no, Ryan, don’t touch it,” she soothed. Sam left the room to find a doctor.
Within a minute, the doctor arrived. “Could you two wait outside for a moment?” he asked. The two women stepped out of the room and embraced. “He woke up,” Blythe said, her voice filled with joy. “Yes, and he’s trying to breathe on his own,” Sam replied. They shared a happy moment.
The doctor waved them back in, and they entered to see Ryan without the tube. Blythe had tears in her eyes. “Baby, I missed you,” she said, kissing him gently. “Mom,” Ryan rasped quietly. “No, I’m allowed to worry; you scared us so much,” Blythe replied, giving him another kiss on his head. Sam was next, kissing him as well. “Never scare me like this again.”
“I’ll try,” he said weakly. The three of them settled down for a while. Ryan attempted to speak again. “Can I drink something?” Sam held up a cup for him to take a sip. “Dad?” he asked, hope glimmering in his eyes as he searched for his father. That broke Blythe's heart, reminding her of that stupid fight—Don wasn’t there when Ryan needed him the most.
“I couldn’t reach him,” Blythe explained. Ryan's eyes went wide. Sam, knowing her husband well, stopped him before he could get overwhelmed. “Easy, honey. We'll try again later; he is coming.” Ryan nodded, but with everything happening, he felt overwhelmed. He just wanted his parents. A tear fell down his cheek, and Blythe noticed. “Oh, baby, he is coming, I promise.”
“I'll call him again.” With that, Sam left the room. After charging her phone, she saw that Don was calling right then. She picked up. “Sam, do you know where Ryan is? He didn’t make it to work.” Sam felt anger bubbling up. “I know! He was in an accident yesterday, and your wife has been calling you this whole time!” she responded, too upset to be polite. “So if you'll excuse me, I’m going back to my husband to make sure he is okay because he wants his dad here.” With that, Sam hung up.
She returned to the ICU to find Blythe stroking Ryan's hair, soothing him. “He knows, and hopefully he’s on his way,” Sam tried to reassure them gently. Ryan smiled at that. Blythe could tell from Sam's expression that it hadn’t been a good call. “I’ll tell you later,” Sam mouthed to Blythe. They stayed like that for a while, talking softly and sharing stories with Ryan.
After about half an hour, Don stepped into the room. “Ryan!” he gasped. Blythe looked at her son. “Excuse us for just a second, okay?” She walked past Don, motioning for him to follow her. “Now you’re here after I called you all night! Where were you?”
“Blythe, let me explain. It was stupid. I was selfish; I saw your calls but didn’t want to pick up. I wanted to prove my point,” Don admitted, looking down, embarrassed by his choices. “I left a voicemail explaining what happened,” Blythe said.
Inside the room, Ryan saw that his parents were fighting again, and he hated it. As he tried to get up, he suddenly screamed, “Ahh!”
Sam stood up and asked, “Easy, Ryan. What happened?”
“Mom, Dad,” Ryan gasped, struggling to catch his breath enough to form a complete sentence. Bylthe and Don heard his scream and hurried into the room.
“Hey, what’s hurting?” Don asked as Ryan lay back down.
“Stop fighting,” Ryan pleaded.
“He moved because he saw you two,” Sam explained.
“We're sorry, Ryan,” Bylthe said.
“I’m sorry that I just came now and not yesterday,” Don added.
“That’s okay, but please stop fighting. I don’t want to be someone with divorced parents,” Ryan said, managing a small smile.
Don put an arm around Bylthe and kissed her. Bylthe looked at Don, knowing everything was going to be alright.
“Don’t worry, that’s not going to happen. I love your dad,” Bylthe reassured Ryan.
With that confirmation, Ryan felt happy and fell back asleep.