Page 98 of Lavender Moon

Ultrasound of kidneys

Splints, IV fluids, stitches…

“Luna, what the fuck happened to you?” The pounding of my heart in my ears drowns out the question that falls from my lips. “When…” I feel my rate pick up again, banging out a few hard beats when I think to look for the date.

Date of service: November 9th, 2023.

I look up to the ceiling, wracking my brain… was that the time I couldn’t get a hold of her? She told me she’d lost her phone… she was crying so hard. The memory grabs hold of my heartstrings in an iron grip and pulls agonizingly hard.

Goddammit, my head is so messed up. It’s spinning just knowing that this is my wife’s hospital bill, and can’t wrap itself around the fact that it was a visit I had no clue about.

There’s no summary of the visit, just an itemized list of charges that are all covered by my insurance. There’s probably no way I could get my hands on one either, even as her husband.

She’s going to have to tell me, which I’m not sure she will, seeing as how this is the first I’m finding anything out about it in the first place, and not even from her. The fact that Luna has her hospital bills in a folder with his name on it – along with the bogus rejection letter he drafted – says he’s behind everything that’s happened to her.

But for now, the contents of this folder tell me all I need to be certain of one thing.

Carter is a fucking dead piece of shit.

The blood in my veins has been replaced by hot acid and a sweat has broken out on the back of my neck.

My need to find Luna has multiplied exponentially and I need to move; to do something now.

I’m still her husband. We’re not divorced yet. We need to talk and–

“K!” Luna’s exasperated but good-humored lilt breaks through my thoughts and I return my attention to my phone screen where videos of her are still playing. This one displays her tucked behind the shower curtain with her face peeking out. Her hair hangs in dripping wet strands, and her eyes are smiling as bright as ever as she tries to give me a look of mock annoyance. “Put your damn phone down and hand me a towel!”

This was just last week. I’d made a game out of taking the towels out of the bathroom while she showered so I’d have to bring her one, which would lead to a good look at her wet, naked body, sometimes followed by a loving kiss or a blissfully passionate fuck.

This is us… we’d gotten back to an even better version than we were before, and it just can’t be over in the blink of an eye.

Scrambling up from the desk, I book it to the bedroom and pull my duffle out of the closet. If I know Luna, I’m not going to be able to come back home in one day. I’m going to need some necessities which I tear around the room grabbing and carelessly throwing in the bag.

When I think I’ve got everything, I sling it over my shoulder and start to head out of the room when something catches my eye.

On top of the dresser near the door lie her wedding rings, side by side. I pause for a moment, letting the reality that they’re here and not on her finger settle over me. I feel hot and somewhat lightheaded for a few seconds before I mentally shake out of it. Setting the duffel down, I unhook my chain and grab up the rings, letting them zipline down to join my dog tags.

There’s no time to fall apart right now, I tell myself. You have to go get your girl and you need to be level headed when you do it.

With that, I continue on my way out of the room and down the hall. I have no business going after her and trying to get her back, or even deserve for her to hear me out after all I’ve put her through, but I will not be on my death bed ruminating over how I didn’t try. I’m going to try with everything I have.

* * *

I’ve only ever beento Luna’s studio twice before, and I don’t remember the address to plug into my phone. Fortunately, I’m able to remember the general area, and it only took a couple of wrong turns from there until I ended up in front of the building I know it’s in.

After scaling the long staircase, taking two at a time, I pound on the sliding metal door and am met with no answer.

I pace… I sit on the stairs a while… I pound again… repeat. I do this for close to an hour before I finally entertain the idea that she’s really not here and not just avoiding me.

The late afternoon is shifting into early evening, but I don’t want to go far in case I miss her. Fortunately, the small donut shop across the street is still open, and I duck in just long enough to grab a large coffee and take it back to my parked truck on the street.

I want badly to look up Carter so I know what he looks like and where I might find him, but now’s not the time. It will get me in a worse headspace than I already am, and that’s not what Luna needs if I get the chance to talk to her. I’ll save those feelings for my own time, but she gets everything else, and I’ll grovel every day for the rest of our lives just so long as she comes home with me.

* * *

It’sa good thing I’ve slept on a hard-as-shit cot for most of my eight months overseas, and some of it even in a ranger hole. Otherwise, more parts of my body than just my leg would be pissed off at me right now. Stiff pain flashes up and down my thigh, protesting at me to get out of the cab of the truck and stretch it a bit. I had a feeling I’d be doing something like spending the night in my damn truck, given how late in the day it was when I made it out here, but I couldn’t just stay home while I waited for an appropriate time. Besides, it’s not like I would’ve gotten better sleep in my bed without my girl.

After taking a short walk up the street and back, I duck back into the donut shop for more coffee, and to make a call to the law office in West Bridge. Sure enough, I get the paralegal sunshine bot again.