Page 48 of Holiday Hoax

My apartment feels cold and empty after being away for the weekend. I spend an hour or so picking up and taking trash out to the chute. I don’t have anything in the cupboard to eat aside from an old package of ramen which I make and eat while catching up on one of my shows. My phone lights up with an incoming call from Ian.

My fingers itch to answer it, but I hold myself back. It’s not that I want to play games, I’m just scared. I wait until it shows a voicemail notification before I risk picking it up. I consider not listening to the voicemail, but the need to hear his voice is too strong.

Nothing could have prepared me for what I hear as a woman’s voice leaves a message. Before I even have all the details I’m throwing on the closest pair of shoes and grabbing my purse to run out the door. My hands shake as I pull up the Uber app and order a car to Chicago General.

Ian was rushed to the hospital, but that’s all I know. Everything seems to take too long. The elevator. Waiting two minutes for my ride. I just need to get to him.

I should’ve answered the phone. At least then I’d have a better idea of what is going on. But oh, no, I had to be too scared of my feelings. So stupid.

My eyes sting as I climb into the backseat of the sedan that stops for me. It reeks of cigarette smoke, so I crack the window. I angrily swipe the tears from my cheeks as I drown in fear for him.

The driver barely puts her car in park before I’m vaulting from the backseat and running into the emergency department entrance. There’s a godforsaken line at the reception desk. I take a deep breath and will myself to dig deep for patience. The people in front of me are likely just as worried for loved ones as I am.

Loved ones.

Love?

Do I love him?

I do.

A fresh wave of tears runs down my cheeks as the realization sinks in. I love him. The line moves and it’s my turn.

“Hi, my boyfriend was brought in a little bit ago. His name is Ian Jameson.”

“I’m sorry. Only family members are allowed back.”

“What? I’m his girlfriend.”

“You’ll have to wait until he regains consciousness and asks for you. Or a family member vouches for you.”

“Can you tell me how he is?” I grit out through clenched teeth.

“Not unless you’re listed as an emergency contact.”

I scrub my fingers over my eyes. “Can you at least tell me what he was brought in for?”

She looks down at her computer. “I’m not supposed to, but he was brought in by ambulance for anaphylaxis.”

“Thank you.” I can tell she’s not going to be any more help but at least she gave me that much information.

I just sit down in a plastic chair when I see Delia and Henry go running to the front desk. The doors open for themimmediately. Probably doesn’t hurt when I’m pretty sure their names are on some wing of the building.

The doors are just starting to close again when I glance at the front desk and see it empty. Taking my chance, I dart through the door just as they’re about to close and catch up to the Jamesons. Delia looks terrified while Henry has a calming, soothing presence. He rubs small circles on her back.

Thankfully neither of them even spare me a glance. I’m not sure if they would remember me or not, though I lean toward it being unlikely. I step onto the elevator after them, tucking myself into the corner, so they’ll naturally step off in front of me.

“I sent Stella a text,” Henry says as the elevator doors open. “She said they’re on the way.”

CHAPTER 17

IAN

The soundof rhythmic beeping pulls my consciousness up to the surface. I blink my eyes open waiting for my vision to become clear. A soft hand squeezes mine.

“Mom.” I know it’s her by the cloying perfume that’s strong enough to overpower the antiseptic scent of the hospital. “How long was I out?”

“Here are your glasses.” Dad slips them on so I can see.

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