Page 88 of Boarded Hearts

How’s Jon?

When we heard the news that Zach would be under strong pain medication all night, he left the hospital. I tried to talk to him, but I don’t know…he doesn’t seem good. Like he’s blaming himself for what happened.

I’m beginning to panic, wondering what state my boyfriend is in right now.

Where is he?

He wouldn’t talk to anyone. Just sit tight. He’ll come back, probably once he’s cleared his head.

I want to call him, but I stop myself. My gut tells me he needs this time alone, and I’ll give him that space. Even if it’s killing me not to go out into the night and search every building until I find him.

It’s gone four in the morning when the door to our suite opens, and I hear a thud and then...laughter?

Pulling back the covers, I fly out of bed. “Jon, is that you?”

I find him leaning over a console table, half-conscious and reeking of booze. There are broken shards from a vase he must’ve knocked over and his light gray hoodie is ripped and covered in stains like he’s fallen over several times, his trousers in a similar state.

But it’s when I see his eyes that my heart cracks clean down the middle. Puffy, red, and totally vacant. He’s sure done a number on himself, drinking into total oblivion.

“Jon, baby, what have you done to yourself?” I try to pull him onto my shoulder, but he’s a dead weight.

On hearing my voice, he turns his head in my direction and a tiny smile traces his lips. “Doooooo yyyou lorve me, Annngel?” His voice is a slurry mess, but I can just about make out the words.

“Let’s not talk about this now, okay?” I reply. “Let’s just get you into bed.”

“Yoooou mmmmean eferythinnng to mmeee.”

“I know, baby. You do, too. Can you walk with me?”

I try to haul Jon’s huge body from the console table but as soon as we try, I collapse to the ground and Jon tumbles forward and onto me. I feel a sharp shoot of pain in my left wrist as I try to break my fall. “Ow, shit.”

I look across to find him fully passed out. I’m almost certain he’s going to hurl at some point, so I shrug off the pain and move him onto his side, then fetch some spare blankets and pillows and place them on the floor. I roll one underneath Jon and prop him up with a pillow, then wrap us in another blanket as I cuddle his huge body from behind.

A few minutes pass and his breathing begins to even out. Taking one of his hands in mine, I intertwine our fingers, as Jon has done with me so many times before. I know he won’t remember my words tomorrow but as I whisper them into his ear, I hope on some subconscious level they’ll resonate with him. “You are worthy Jon, and you mean everything to so many people, especially to me. You’ve changed my life, and I love you.” I drift off to sleep, in the comfort that I know he’s here and safe with me.

ONE WEEK LATER

“We can figure it all out closer to Easter break, but I can’t wait to see you, Mum. Oh, maybe we can finally make it across to Vancouver Island. That’s if Liam’s stomach can take the ferry. He wants to puke just at the sight of open water.” Darcy giggles.

I laugh down the phone while chopping vegetables for the traditional British Sunday lunch I’m making for Jon’s parents and Adam. I’m running behind schedule, and Jon still isn’t back home. He’s over an hour late with no word from him.

“He’s never had a strong stomach. Remember when Jack got sick that Christmas, and he turned whiter than a sheet.”

She giggles harder. “Yeah, I do. Probably wise that he studies architecture and not medicine.”

“Too right.”

“How’re things with Jon? All fully moved in and settled?”

I pause my chopping and squeeze my eyes shut. Keep it together.

“Yeah, it’s great. I’m just prepping traditional Sunday dinner; we have his parents and Adam coming over in...” I look down at my Apple watch and see the emerald strap Jon bought me, another reminder of the man I fell in love with yet who’s been absent from my life for the past week. “Oh shoot, in like thirty minutes. Honey, I need to go, but I’ll call you later, okay? Love you.”

We hang up the call, and I hit panic mode. I’ve not even made a start on the batter for the Yorkshire puddings and the entire kitchen is a mess.

Where the fuck is he?

I grab my phone and send him yet another text.

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