Tangling Hearts

39. Annie

Chapter Thirty-Nine

ANNIE

P atience: none. Hair: still damp, in a ponytail. When: an hour ago.

E ntering the Emergency Room, I’m all cleaned up and ready to be at Brendan’s side when he wakes up.

A nurse of Indian descent glances up from her paperwork and straightens in her chair, wearily sizing me up. “Can I help you?”

Calm down, Annie. He’s okay. You’ll see him soon. “Hi. Yes. Can you please tell me which room Brendan Clark is in?”

She looks to her computer screen and clicks on the keyboard, squinting slightly, which tells me she might need glasses but is avoiding getting them or maybe has left them at home. The observation is something to fixate on. If I don’t use it, I’ll go crazy waiting for her to find him. It’s taking a lot for me not to launch myself through the window and look him up myself, and she’s not even moving slow.

Without looking up, she asks, “Clark?”

“Yes. Brendan Clark. He came in last night. Gunshot wound?” I don’t know if that last detail will help her, but it might.

She discovers his name and sits upright again. I prepare myself for the worst. She’s looking at me like she’s about to say something I don’t want to hear. Visions of him dying on the surgery bed while I was in the shower stab me.

“He’s in room 323… but visiting hours aren’t until three o’clock, so you’ll –”

“Visiting hours? Is that all?” I smile reassuringly like it’s no big deal. “I’ll come back. No biggie. But…” I look from left to right with my finger pointing toward nowhere and everywhere. “I really need to use the bathroom. That time of the month, you know how it is.” I roll my eyes at the cross we all have to bear, and smile again, my eyebrows up and pleasant. “Which way is it?”

She clocks me, scanning my face to see if I’m full of shit or not. Still unsure, she rises out of her chair, leaning out the little window to guide me with the point of her green-polished fingernail. “It’s down that hall, first door on your right.”

“Thanks so much. Love your nail polish.”

Her hand flies up to be inspected and admired. “Oh, thanks! I wasn’t sure about this color, but I think it’s fun.”

“It is. It’s so great. Okay – have a good day!” I tap the counter, a bar habit.

“You too!”

Distract them with flattery, I hum to my inner impatience and step away to leave her to her paperwork. Behind me is the waiting room and the sight of it unexpectedly disarms me. It looks like a room full of seated zombies, complete with exposed, gaping wounds. The TV’s on silent, but pale and tired people stare at it like I did, desperately needing the distraction. I guess I looked like this.

I scan for Doug, but he’s not among the faces. Is he with his wife? Did he go home? Did she? Will I never know what happened? It’s so strange how someone can come into your life, have an impact, and then never be seen again. I silently send a prayer up that they’re okay, that she survived the stroke somehow. That she isn’t in pain. That she isn’t paralyzed.

I have to see Brendan and I have to see him now. My blood picks up speed. The green-nailed nurse’s head is down in her paperwork again and I don’t want her watching me, so I slip past quietly. My rubber-soled sneakers make it easy to slip right past the unisex bathroom without drawing attention to the fact that I’m not going in.

From the second I turned the key and walked into my apartment, all I wanted to do was get back here. I have never showered so fast in my life. I couldn’t even bring myself to take the time necessary to dry my hair, and as I raced to put on clothes, I repeated the mantra, look your best. He deserves that after what he did for you, so that I could focus on something that would ease my heart.

Slamming the elevator button repeatedly, I whisper to it, “C’mon. C’mon. C’mon!!!” The loud ding almost gives me a heart attack and I leap through the doors before they have a chance to fully open. I don’t know if a nurse would be so cruel as to chase me down for sneaking up to his room, so I furiously hit the button before she catches me – just in case.

The doors shut and I exhale, leaning against the wall with the bar pressing into my back. A sliver away from freedom, a hand reaches in. I stare at it – a man’s hand – and the desire to jump forward, hit the button, and cut the damned hand right off, is pushed down and pushed down hard. I have to see his face, at least once. I can sit in the room with him until someone finds me breaking the rules, for hopefully all day and all night. I’ll do my best to make that happen.

A man in a lab coat steps in. He’s about thirty-five or so, wearing glasses and a pleasant smile. “Hi.”

Smile or no, he is the enemy.

I nod curtly and suck on my lips. He reaches to press a button. I’m staring at his finger. Please don’t push ‘3.’

His fingers hover for a second as he checks his phone. Please don’t push ‘3.’ Please don’t push ‘3.’ He pushes ‘4,’ and steps back to wait. Good. I’m getting closer to the goal. We both stare at the rising numbers lighting up. I’m successfully appearing calm, like I belong here. He looks over. “You here to see a relative?”

I point to my ears, and shake my head.

His awkward smile is instantly apologetic. “Oh, you’re deaf. Sorry. I don’t speak sign language.”

I stare at him like I still don’t understand and he looks away, unsure of what to say. I’ve distracted him with this. I’m beginning to believe that, like a stealth ninja, I will successfully sneak into Brendan’s room. The third floor lights up and angels start singing, Run, Annie, run!

“Have a nice day,” he calls after me as I scoot past him. Then he says to himself, more quietly, “She can’t hear me. I’m an idiot.”

With my back to him, I look left and right, deciding which way to run. Is Room 323 this way or that? Thinking I can’t hear him, he calls out, “You’re ridiculously pretty!”

Surprised, I spin around. “Really? Thank you!”

His eyebrows fly up and the doors close.

Oh. Oops. “Sorry! I had no choice!”

Room 313. If Brendan’s awake, what does he remember? Room 315. Has he been as tormented as I have by images from last night? Room 317. Does he wish he’d never come back? Room 319. Is he wondering if I’m okay? Room 321. Is he even thinking of me at all?

Room 323

I stand in front of his door, breathing deeply to prepare myself for whatever I’m about to see on the other side. I’ve never seen someone I love after they’ve undergone surgery. I have no idea how he’s going to look, what I can expect, and I want to bring him light and hope, not fear and worry. I want him to know I’ll help him get better and stay by his side if he wants it, and leave if he doesn’t.

Truth? I’m scared. I’m not sure how he’ll feel when he looks at me. I might be a reminder of what happened. He might just want to be alone. Some men like solitude when bad things go down. The ‘man cave’ isn’t a joke. I know this from my years with masculine Christiano, and he and Brendan have one thing in common – neither of them is feminine in any way. Besides, Brendan just thinks I’m some girl he met tonight. Someone to put behind him to make this memory slip into oblivion…and me with it.

Will he do that?

Annie, you can’t stand out here forever. Suck it up. Be brave. Put your hand on the knob and turn the damn thing.

I open the door and hold my breath. It sticks in my throat when I see what awaits me inside. I freeze, very fucking confused. There’s a woman here. Why? Gorgeous, shiny dark hair cascades down her slender back as she leans forward in her chair, holding his hand and stroking it.

My flickering eyes cut to Brendan’s face. He’s unconscious, his skin unearthly pale. My heart shatters at the sight of him this vulnerable and weak. All because of me.

The unexpected and stunning woman turns around in what should be my chair, and stands up with all the grace of a professional ballerina. With one pointed and sweeping glance she scrutinizes me from top to bottom then back again. Suddenly I wish I’d dried my hair. This ponytail feels silly and these Converse sneakers are too young, too boyish next to her. The high-quality flowing hang of her gray slacks and black blouse, plus the expensive look of her heels, all scream that she’s rich . Old-money wealth. The stuff I know nothing about. Her almond-shaped brown eyes are highly judgmental and she’s standing by him with the comfort of someone who’s done it a thousand times. Fuck.

I am the first to speak, but all I can mutter is a single syllable.

“Hi.”

Hearing the deadness of my voice, I glance to Brendan again. I don’t like how this woman is looking at me. And the truth is, she’s in my way. I want to kiss him and thank him for what he did. Reluctantly, I look back to her and size up my options. It’s very clear she’s not going to let me near him. What the fuck.

She raises one eyebrow ever so slightly, as though she’s practiced and perfected how to shut someone down with this one subtle movement. “Can I help you?”

Yes. You can move.

Suddenly I remember. “Oh! I’m so stupid. Are you Mrs. Wells?”

She’s very surprised by the question, but the elegance with which she holds her neck high and long, doesn’t shift in the slightest. “Yes.”

“The hospital thought I was you.” Hoping against hope, I add, “Are you his mother?” Instantly I realize I shouldn’t have spoken so soon. I should have said ‘sister,’ because her eyes steel. I open my mouth, about to apologize, but she interrupts me.

“I’m his girlfriend .”

Oof. A hammer-punch to the stomach robs me of speech. I look down, breathless and dizzy. My mouth opens and closes. I’m trying to speak, not to stand here like this. I try again to say something, anything, to ask questions or scream, WHAT??!

All that comes out is a choking noise.

“Who are you?” she asks, stepping to her left and blocking my view of his face on purpose.

Looking around the room – at her body blocking him, at the heart monitor, at the dark TV screen – my eyelashes flap like frantic butterflies caught in a fatal web.

I’m The Other Woman.

I almost got your boyfriend killed.

I should be going now.

“I’m Annie. He was… at my bar when we were robbed.” I close my eyes against a tear. “I just wanted to make sure he was okay. It was a scary night.” I wipe my cheek, muttering, “That’s why I’m crying. It’s hard to see him like that. Reminds me of everything.”

“Oh. I see.”

She pauses long enough to make me look at her again. She knows what I’m not telling her. I can see it in her eyes. But still, I don’t need to shove her face in it. I wouldn’t have had sex with him had I known he was taken. That’s not the type of woman I am.

I don’t like cheating.

Me neither. Not a fan.

“I have to go.” I turn to the door.

“How long have you known Brendan?”

“Um…”

That’s an odd question. I want SO BADLY to claim longevity over her, to tell her the real amount of time – years, not a single solitary evening – but I know I don’t have the right.

One night with him. That’s all I get. I can’t believe the agony that I’m feeling. There has never been anything like it.

I straighten my head and face her. “We met last night. He and his friend Mark came in. He was there late with some of his friends from work. It wasn’t a big deal. I barely know him.” A knife cuts into my soul and turns.

She nods, thinking aloud, “Oh. Right. I have to tell Mark.”

She knows Mark? This is really happening.

I back up and run into the door. “I should go. Please tell him I came by. And that I’m alright, if he asks.” My voice catches in my throat. “He saved my life by taking that bullet. Your boyfriend’s… a really good guy. You’re lucky to have him. Nice meeting you.”

I turn and run out the door as fast as I can.

Can I cry anymore than I have in the last twelve hours? Layers and layers of pain topple onto each other as I retrace my steps to the elevator. All I want to do is sit by his bed and smooth down his hair, kiss his face and be there when he wakes up. That’s all I want to do.

After stabbing the elevator call button five times, I rub away the tears until my eyes are sore, gasping for breath. With a last look down the long empty hallway at his door, I step onto the elevator.

I’m glad you didn’t die, Brendan. And thank you for saving my life. But it’s over. I’m done. I’ve spent too many years holding a place for you in my heart. I have to let you go.