Page 76 of No Going Back
“You can go back to bed as soon as we get to the hospital.” Janie pointed at the shoes again. “Put your feet in there. The only way you’re not going to the hospital is if you physically fight me, and right now you’re not even able to stand on your own, so I’m not too worried you’re going to be able to throw hands.”
Dianna groaned, cutting the sound short when it came a little too close to making her heave. “You’re overreacting.” She didn’t want to go to the hospital, but she also didn’t want to prolong being vertical, so she shoved one socked foot into the fur lined slipper.
“Maybe. But I’m also pretty sure I’m not underreacting, so we’ll see who’s right when we get there.”
Janie maneuvered her out the door and down the driveway. She left Dianna in her car, seat laid back, while she made a quick trip into the house to retrieve Dianna’s purse and keys, locking the door on her way out. By the time she came back, Dianna was already dozing, the sound of the door closing and the engine starting barely registering.
She’d barely closed her eyes before Janie was forcing her to open them again. “Up and at ‘em.” Janie tugged at one arm, rousing her from the blissful peace of sleep. “Let’s get you into this wheelchair.”
“I don’t need a wheelchair. I’m fine—” The sudden and overwhelming urge to throw up greeted her the same way it did every time she opened her eyes, sending her twisting in the seat as she bent out the open door, barely missing Janie with a retch that splattered against the blacktop. Dianna stared down at the tiny amount of liquid. “I guess I still had some coffee in me after all.”
Just the thought of coffee made her grimace and threatened to force a gag.
“I should probably thank you for not doing that in my car.” Janie hooked both hands under her arms, lifting her up and turning to settle her butt into a waiting wheelchair. “Not that I wouldn’t have probably deserved it.”
Dianna closed her eyes, lacking the strength to keep them open. “I’m not mad anymore.” She managed to peek out at Janie from under one partially lifted lid. “I’m just disappointed.”
“Ugh.” Janie groaned, her head tipping back. “That’s worse and you know it.”
Dianna managed a little smile in spite of her current state. “I know.”
Janie reached out to pat her on the arm. “I’ll be in as soon as I get the car parked.”
Dianna nodded. “You know where to find me.”
She rested her eyes as a nurse wheeled her into the emergency room, taking her straight through the waiting room and into the back.
She did her best to help them transfer her into a bed and immediately pulled the blanket up to her chin, fully intending to go to sleep. Before she managed to doze off, another nurse was there, taking her temperature, checking her blood pressure, and forcing her to squeeze what little liquid remained in her body into a pee cup.
Janie came in just as she was getting back into bed, collapsing against the plastic covered mattress.
“Have they said anything yet?”
Dianna closed her eyes, wishing she was in the comfort of her own soft bed. “Only that they’re disappointed in you too.”
“Ha ha. Very funny.” Janie pulled the chair beside the bed closer, reaching out to hold Dianna’s hand. “Seriously though. I am so fucking sorry. I didn’t want you to hate me just because I had dated Griffin before. I didn’t know what else to do.”
“You could have tried talking to me about it.” Why was that so hard for everybody? They acted like opening up would kill them. Like it caused them physical pain to—
Hell.
Had she worked so hard and come so far that she lost sight of how it was in the beginning? Back when she sat and stared at her therapist for the better part of an hour, doing everything she could to avoid confessing the embarrassing, painful truth. To a stranger.
Dianna sighed, swinging one forearm across her eyes. “I’m sorry. Sometimes I forget how hard it can be to deal with your own shit.” She’d been so focused on fixing everything in her own life—in her own self—she lost sight of how hard it was to get started. Because all she could focus on was how hard it was to finish.
And maybe that was because you were never finished. Maybe no matter how hard you worked or how hard you tried, you could never really be fine again. You could glue all the pieces back together, lining them up perfectly, but one wrong bump and that weak spot would give.
A lot like it had the day she found out Janie and Griffin were keeping a secret from her.
Dianna squeezed Janie’s—her real friend’s—hand. “Thank you for coming to see me today.”
Janie gripped her hand tight. “You don’t have to thank me for being your friend. That’s all I really wanted to be, I just wasn’t so great at it.”
Guilt settled into her already upset stomach. “You were pretty good at it, right up until this morning when you dragged me here.”
Janie laughed. “You say that now, but you’ll be thanking me when they give you medicine to make you feel better.”
Almost as if on command, the nurse strode back in carrying an IV bag. She gave Dianna a tentative smile. “So I have some news.” She came to her side, hooking the bag onto the stand. “I think I know why you’re feeling so crummy.”
