Page 56 of The Other Side of Apart
I pull a chair to the side of Marcus’s bed and grab his hand.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, fierce, like if I push the words out hard enough, they’ll penetrate his anesthesia fog. “I’m so sorry, Marcus.”
I rest my head on his arm and let the tears puddle on his skin. Everything has changed again, but I don’t feel like he’s lucky; the doctor had no idea what he was saying. Marcus came face to face with Nick and barely escaped. He’s unconscious in a hospital bed and will wake to find that he can’t run, much less walk for who knows how long. He goes on runs every day, even in the snow, but now he can’t. He can’t go to work. He can’t do anything but sit and think about how Nick has ruined everything all over again. How I’ve ruined it all because I ignored it. And he’ll have plenty of time to wonder what might happen next if he stays with me.
Marcus stirs, and I lift my head as his eyes flutter open. They move around the room, land on me, and stay on my face, trying to focus. “Did you see that horse? He put his nose in my crotch because I’m wearing this dress.” Marcus’s hands fumble with his gown as he laughs, sloppy and delirious.
I smile. “I didn’t see it.”
“Well…you’re really small, and he was huge, so I’m not surprised.” His bleary eyes flick to me and he frowns, “What did they do with my underwear? Did you take them? Because I don’t think they’ll fit you. But I don’t want to wear this dress anymore. Johnny’ll never let it die.”
I try to hide a laugh, and the nurse who steps into the room smiles at me.
“The horse thing is a new one,” she says, patting his arm. “Your underwear’s safe and sound.”
“Oh, okay.” Marcus relaxes into his pillow. “Okay. Good. I just don’t want to wear this dress anymore.” His eyes drift closed, his breathing slowing. A few minutes later, they pop open again, scanning the room before stopping on me. He studies me, his eyes more focused this time. “Hey.” His voice is husky, his words more solid.
“Hi,” I whisper.
He clears his throat. “I’m still in the hospital?”
“Yeah. Overnight.”
He nods, closing his eyes again. “Why you so far away?”
“I’m just letting you wake up. A horse was chasing you, so I figured you might be kind of tired.”
He frowns. “A horse?”
I smile and grab his hand again. “Just something you said when the anesthesia was wearing off. How are you feeling?”
“Tired. But happy I woke up to your face. I missed it. Wanna join me in this hydraulic bed?”
I crawl in next to him, gentle to not jostle him as I lay my head on his chest. Tears escape, and I’m grateful he can’t see my face. He’s silent and I wonder if he’s thinking about how none of this would have happened if he hadn’t met me. Then he sighs, his body relaxes, and his breathing slows and steadies, leaving me to wonder alone.
CHAPTER 31
Beeping pings off the inside of my skull, and I blink through the purple haze. I swallow, but my throat is dry and scratchy, my body heavy. The smell of rubbing alcohol stings my nose, and I wince. I look down the bed at my legs, one in a brace to my upper thigh, the other bruised but in one piece. My brain is static. Invisible hands press me into the bed and won’t let up. I had this same feeling when I got my tonsils out at nine years old. I run my hand through my hair, which yanks the IV sticking out of the top of my hand, and I swear.
Someone squeezes my other hand, and I roll my head to the left.
“Hey.”
I close my eyes. Sink into the sound of Mei’s voice. I’m okay. Everything’s good, even if my head weighs 400 pounds. “What time is it?”
“Almost 7:30 in the morning.”
I scan the room, wrestling with the fear and anger that anesthesia didn’t take away.
“You slept all night. Even when the nurses came in to check your vitals. Are you in pain?”
I shake my head once. “No. Just wanna get out of this bed, but…”
“You get to go home this afternoon. If you can walk and pee.”
“Perfect. Now if only I could actually walk and if only we had a home to go back to.”
She presses her lips together, staring at her hand wrapped around mine like she’d forgotten why I’m actually stuck in this hospital bed, and I just reminded her.
