Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
JADEN
The jacket of my uniform is almost dry when, after a quick after-work training session, I pull the apartment key out of my breast pocket.
Nyla’s blissful expression is still inside me, along with the melody that won’t let me go as I unlock the door.
And as so often in the past few hours, it now shifts from happy to infinitely shocked. The music falls silent.
Our shared shift in the ER was stressful, and Nyla was once again the competent but very serious doctor she so loves to be the entire time. That was fine by me, because I was more than busy enough with my unsuccessful attempts to shake off the memory of our dance.
I push open the door to my two-room apartment, shrug off my jacket and shoes, and amble into the living area.
Empty coffee cups are stacked on the coffee table next to a few unopened bills.
The fridge hums softly to itself, almost empty except for an opened carton of milk and a few bottles of beer.
I grab one of them now and open it on my way to the sofa.
‘Let’s see who’s free.’ I pull my phone out of my pocket and text Kevin first, then James, then John.
Sorry, have to work tonight.
Can’t, I’ve got a date.
Man, I’m completely wiped from the short night. And you should take a bit of a break too.
Taking a break is overrated. That’s exactly what I text back to John, then I keep scrolling through my contact list.
Someone has to still want to go out for a drink tonight, and if not, I’ll just head out on my own. While I type the next messages, my phone rings.
Mom.
I mute the call, toss the phone onto the sofa, and grab my beer bottle. Out of the corner of my eye I see Mom’s name light up again and again. She doesn’t give up, hasn’t for days.
I get up from the couch, so I don't have to keep looking at the phone lighting up. I need to get rid of the hospital clothes I borrowed for the shift and take a shower if I’m going to hit the town in a bit. While I grab fresh clothes, the same reel as before starts playing in my mind again.
Nyla’s radiance, so beautiful.
The melody we’re moving to.
The droplets of water on her face.
The urge to brush that one drop from her lip.
The irrepressible curiosity to know how those lips would feel on mine.
The shock in Nyla’s gaze.
The sudden cold in my chest after she tore herself away.
What was wrong with me?
What is still wrong with me?
A bit too roughly, I pull the last clean hoodie out of the wardrobe. A sheet of paper sails out with it. Even before it touches the floor, I know what it is, and I also know it has to disappear again immediately.
Would you take care of this?
Camee’s voice is everywhere inside me. Frantically I grab the damned thing and stuff it into the shelf with the T-shirts, even though the only right thing would be to throw it away.
I would never see it again, it would simply be gone, couldn’t get to me anymore.
Everything would be easier if I got rid of it, yet I push it into the very back corner of the compartment and tell myself that not seeing it is just as good.
Keep this for me for now.
Shit.
That is honestly the last thing I want to think about right now – and Nyla is the second-to-last, yet she’s in my thoughts again anyway, because it hits me: she would never ignore this damn thing.
She wouldn’t just endure the pain, she would welcome it with delight, examine it from every angle, let it rule her.
Out in the parking lot today she claimed I was crazy, but it’s exactly the opposite. She, with her willingness to let herself be consumed by fear and pain, is the crazy one.
In the distance, my phone starts ringing. I walk back to the sofa, see a buddy’s name on the display, and breathe a sigh of relief.
‘Where do you want to meet up?’ I ask after answering the call.
It takes less than a minute for us to settle on a time and place, and by the time I hang up, my heartbeat has calmed down again.
I’m myself again. Ready to turn heaviness into lightness and darkness into light.