Page 17 of Love Unavoidable
Chapter 4
ethan
I try not to watch Sadie on the dance floor with her ex, but it’s hard. I want to see what will happen between them. How she acts if she is over him or if I was about to have been a rebound fuck had we left.
Don’t get me wrong, I have no problem being a rebound fuck. Some of the hottest sex I have ever had was rebound. But there is something about this girl that tugs at me and I don’t want to let my own feelings get involved if that is all it’s going to be.
Their dance does not look like a happy reunion. It looks like he wants something she is not willing to give. She’s pushing at him, and he won’t let go. I set down my beer and head across the room to step in.
I see her push at him again, right as he releases her, causing her to lose her balance, and fall as if in slow motion. I knew the second she hit her head on the table, and then again on the floor, that it would not be good. I have my phone out with a 9-1-1 dispatcher on the line in seconds and am at her side at once with Brad right behind me.
He directs the growing crowd to give us some space as I check her vitals and try to wake her up. She is breathing, which is good. But she is also unconscious, which is not good. Her head is not bleeding though, and that is also good. I feel fairly confident about her condition, but I can’t treat her, I’ve been drinking, and I have none of my equipment with me. All I can do is keep an eye on her and watch her pulse until the paramedics on duty arrive. Which is nerve-wracking at best.
Aaron is kneeling on the other side of her. He keeps asking inane questions that no one has the answers to. The same questions again and again. Will she be okay? Is she dying? Why won’t she wake up? Is it his fault somehow?
I try to put myself in his shoes: not being an emergency technician, not being used to life or death situations, having recently been dumped by this beautiful creature and still crazy in love with her. But it’s hard, since he is driving me nuts and all I really want to do is punch him in the face and tell him to shut the fuck up.
Sadie’s mother, Eleanor, crowds in and puts her hand on Aaron’s shoulder. “Aaron, dear, what happened? What did she do?”
“I don’t know,” Aaron says. “We were dancing, and she freaked out.”
“She was trying to leave, and you wouldn’t let her go,” I say only partially under my breath. Brad puts a hand on my shoulder, I can tell it’s part warning and part reassurance. He’s got my back regardless but for me to start anything here tonight—no matter what this idiot, Aaron, is thinking—is a terrible plan.
“Well,” Eleanor says. “Sadie Ann’s never been clear regarding her intentions. I doubt she knows them herself. She tends to give mixed messages.” She looks at me as she says this. I can’t quite tell if she’s trying to imply that Sadie was givingmemixed messages tonight or Aaron three weeks ago. She pats Aaron on the shoulder and leaves her hand resting on it. He puts his hand up to cover hers. I am not super close to my family or anything, but it seems like an odd gesture for mother and almost son-in-law. Definitely not something I would be comfortable receiving or doing.
I hear the sirens in the distance, grateful they are close. Cole pushes his way through the crowd with Lexie in tow. Lexie immediately kneels next to me and smooths Sadie’s hair. Brad and I tell them what’s happened. Lexie leans over and kisses me on the cheek.
“Thank you for acting so quickly,” she says. Once upon a time I had a thing for Lexie, but that faded as it became clear she did not return my feelings. And seeing her with Cole, I understand. I was never the guy for her. And truth be told, she never would have been the girl for me. Which makes it nice to get a kiss on the cheek from a friend and not have that sense of longing that it be something more.
I am still holding Sadie’s hand in mine. It’s warm and soft and feels dainty compared to my large calloused one with a broken pinky finger that never set right. The contrast between our skin fascinates me for more than a minute. Hers as though dipped in ivory paint with nary a blemish or mark on it. And mine, weathered and tanned from hours in the sun, on the water, outside. I squeeze her hand gently then wait to see if I get anything in return.
Nothing.
I keep running my thumb along the tops of her knuckles. The waiting for something to happen—a flutter or a grasp, something to show that she’s coming out of it and there’s not a more serious issue going on—is kind of heinous. I mean, I don’t even know this girl and am barely invested emotionally in her well-being, yet even I feel anxious waiting to see what will happen. I always knew it was hard on loved ones when we would cart someone off in the ambulance, that fear of not knowing what’s going on. The fear of death. But this is my first experience on the other side of things, it’s not a good feeling.
“Clear the way, folks. Coming through! SSFD coming through!”
The crowd parts making a pathway for the paramedics to get through. Brad and I know the guys, they are from our station house, on C shift. As they ask questions about what happened, I answer factually and without emotion. I also watch closely to make sure they do everything I would do. We are from the same station, we get the same training, I know these guys are on top of it, and know their shit. But there is a part of me that just wants to make sure they miss nothing.
Her not waking up after a minute or two is not necessarily a good sign. They get her fastened to the gurney and are wheeling her out when Aaron runs after them. “Can I go with her?”
“He’s her husband,” Sadie’s mother announces loudly. “He should join his wife.” A collective murmur sounds through the room. She glares at those in front of her as if daring them to disagree. No one else says a word.
My guess is many people here at this wedding, would have been at Sadie’s too and know first-hand they are not, in fact, married. I am not sure what her mother hopes to prove or have happen by saying what she did, outside of getting Aaron in the rig with Sadie, but I don’t trust it. Not to mention it makes me look like an ass to have been sitting there holding her hand and smoothing her hair, telling her everything would be okay.
* * *
I catch a ride on the main (fire) engine in to town, they drop me at the hospital before heading down the street to the station.
I stand just outside emergency for a minute before going in. Mostly trying to talk myself out of the fucked-up idea to chase after this girl who probably does not give two shits about me. And whose ex-fiancé—masquerading as her husband—is probably already in the room with her. Or at least close by. They won’t let me in to see her anyway.
“This is a stupid idea,” I mutter to myself and turn to walk toward the main road to either walk home or call and catch an Uber. Something stops me halfway there. I don’t know what. But I know that I can’t leave without at least looking in on her. I pretend it’s common professional courtesy. Even though I know that I am lying to myself. I head back down the walkway and stride through the double doors into the bright lights of intake.
I know the woman at the desk, Nurse Natalie. Luckily, not because we’ve fucked. Or even dated. But because Brad and I are frequently here and so is she. Not to mention, she’s about twenty years my senior. “Hey, beautiful, what’s going on?” I wink.
“Well, fancy seeing you here, Ethan. And all dressed up like a distinguished gentleman at that.” Nurse Natalie smiles big at me. I return the gesture. “What can I do you for?” she asks.
“A friend of mine was brought in earlier. Sadie . . .” I realize I don’t even know her last name. Jesus Christ this was a stupid idea. “I am blanking on her last name—”
