Page 84 of Single-Minded
“I’ll call someone,” I say.
“I already did,” he says. “I’m sure they’ll be here soon.” I refill his water glass and help him take a few sips.
“Can I get you anything?” I ask. “Are you hungry, do you need an extra pillow?”
“I’m fine,” he says. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you about Daniel earlier. I didn’t mean to.”
“I was embarrassed,” I say, “but not for the reasons you think.” I tell Michael, in excruciating detail, what happened the day before, every awful moment. It’s a relief to talk to him, I’ve missed it more than I realize. He listens and pats the top of my hand with his, until his IV monitor starts beeping.
“Be careful,” I say. “You don’t want to pull out your IV.”
“I’m so sorry, sweetie,” he replies. “What did he say?”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“After it happened. Who was she? What was the story? Did he explain himself?” Michael asks.
“He tried to, I guess. I ran off so quickly. I was humiliated. The poor woman was obviously in distress and I didn’t want to make it worse.Iwas in distress. And then he showed up at my event at the Ritz last night and wanted to explain, but I didn’t want to hear it. Then he tried again today when I went to do the walk-through before the opening tonight.”
“He crashed the Wildlife Foundation benefit?”
“Not exactly; he bought a whole table, came by himself, and then gave Olivia a five-thousand-dollar donation. And then he waited outside for me with flowers, but still…”
“But…,” says Michael.
“But I told him I just wanted to get through tonight’s event,” I say. “What does it matter? What possible explanation could he have that would make me okay with this?”
“Maybe he had a relationship with the woman and it’s over. Maybe it wasn’t what you thought it was. Maybe she’s a crazy chef groupie. Or maybe hewaswith her and then he met you and couldn’t imagine his life with anyone else,” he says. “I certainly know how that feels.”
“Yeah, that turned out great,” I say. “And I don’t think chefs have groupies.”
“Oh, they do,” he quips. “Some of those Food Network ladies are out of control.” I smile at Michael, I can’t help myself. He always has a way of joking me out of a bad day.
“Look, I don’t know Daniel,” says Michael. “I only met him once that night at our party, and to be honest I wasn’t checking out his personality.”
“Great,” I say.
“But Carter’s been friends with him for ten years, and he says Daniel’s one of the good guys.”
I weep and Michael leans forward to hold me, except he can’t move his arms so it’s really just more of an off-center shoulder bump. “I can’t go through this again,” I say. “I won’t survive another betrayal. It’s better to just end it now, before I get in any deeper. If I fall in love with someone, I need them to love me back. Just me. I have to be enough.”
“I’m so sorry,” he says, “I wish I’d never hurt you. I wish I’d never lied to you. I feel responsible.” He sighs. “Look, you have to at least listen to Daniel’s explanation. Give him the benefit of the doubt. If you listen and it’s not good enough, fine. If you don’t believe him, fine. But you at least have to listen. If you don’t, you’re giving up on something real, something that could make you happy, without giving it a chance. There’s nothing I want more than for you to be happy. You deserve to be loved, all the way.”
“It’s too late,” I say. “Even if I bought whatever explanation Daniel served up, which frankly, I can’t imagine—I already told him I didn’t want to see him again after the party tonight.”
I’m wiping the tears from my eyes when Santiago and the drill sergeant nurse enter Michael’s room together. Santiago steps to Michael’s bed and gives him a tender kiss on top of his head.
“Glad to see you up,querido,” Santiago says. Michael beams at him like a high schooler in love.
“How’s your pain?” asks the nurse, “on a scale of ten, ten being the worst?”
“About a nine,” answers Michael. Santiago hovers around Michael, fluffing his pillows and refilling his water pitcher. Seeing Michael and Santiago together, how sweet they are, how obviously taken they are with each other, makes me long to fall in love again too someday. Unfortunately, my fate doesn’t seem to agree.
74
I kiss Michael on the cheek, and hug Santiago goodbye. Fred is still snoozing in the chair in the corner of the hospital room and I don’t want to disturb him.
By the time I arrive home, I’m so cross-eyed and foggy from lack of sleep that my bedroom seems too far away from the front door. I make the trek across the house anyway, knowing I’ll sleep more soundly in my own bed than I would on the couch, even though it’s comfy, and inviting, and only ten feet away.
