Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Angie
My heart drops to my stomach.
Tabitha’s eyes are wide as she stares at me. “Your boyfriend? What is he talking about, Angie?”
“He must be delirious,” I say.
“Ralph, what are you talking about?” Tabitha asks.
“Ask her,” Ralph says before closing his eyes again.
His face is badly beaten. It looks like someone used him as a punching bag. I can’t bear to look at him, but I can’t look away either.
“Angie?” Tabitha’s voice is filled with confusion.
“I don’t know what he’s talking about,” I say, struggling to keep my voice steady. But the truth is creeping up on me like the chill of a ghost.
I swallow hard, fighting the lump in my throat. I shift my gaze from Ralph’s battered face to Tabitha’s concerned one and then to the white walls of the hospital room. I inhale the stinging scent of antiseptic.
“I need to step out,” I murmur.
Tabitha reaches out and grabs my hand. “Angie, what’s going on?”
“I just need some air.” I pull away from her grip and exit the room.
Eli is returning from the restroom, but I whisk by him. The hallway seems to stretch on forever as I walk toward the nearest exit.
When I finally reach the hospital garden, I collapse onto a bench and put my head in my hands.
The winter air is cool against my skin, and for a moment it brings a bit of relief that distracts me from the turmoil inside.
But soon, the wind starts to pick up, bringing a biting chill that matches the ice forming in my veins.
No way did Jason do this. Sure, I told him Ralph was no doubt the one who emailed HR—and that he came on to me—but Jason is a doctor, a healer.
He would never deliberately hurt another human being.
Would he?
My mind spins with unending questions, each one more horrifying than the last. But amid the tumultuous thoughts, a singular notion forms that cuts me to the core.
I hardly know Jason at all.
How long has it been? A few days? Weeks? Not nearly enough time to fully understand the man behind his gorgeous exterior. What evidence do I have of his goodness, other than his title as a doctor?
In a flash, every sweet gesture he’s made feels like a potential mask, an intricate disguise to hide something dark. Every shared laugh and tender moment is now tinged with bitter doubt.
“No,” I whisper to myself. “He’s not like that. He can’t be.”
But doubt has a way of growing and festering.
I look up as a figure approaches me.
It’s Tabitha.
“Angie? You okay?”
I sniffle. “Fine.”
She crosses her arms. “You were talking to yourself.”
“Was I?” I feign surprise, quickly wiping moisture from my eyes.
Tabitha settles down beside me. “You’re not fine. You’re far from it.”
I rub at my eyes. “I’m just trying to make sense of things.”
She frowns. “I hope you know you can talk to me.”
Here she goes again, thinking we’re besties after two weeks. Or has it been longer? Sometimes I feel like I’ve been with Jason forever.
“I know, Tabitha.” I bite my lip. “It’s just…complicated.”
She looks at me for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then, with a sigh, she reaches out and places her hand on my arm. The gesture is so simple, yet it seems to fill me with a sense of warmth that I didn’t realize I needed. The air doesn’t seem quite so chilly now.
“Life is complicated,” she says quietly. “But we don’t have to face it alone.”
I swallow back the lump in my throat and nod. What can I even say to that? How can I tell her that maybe I brought this complication into my own life? That maybe I fell for someone who seems too good to be true?
We sit in silence for a few more minutes. The wind rustles the leaves above us.
Finally, she speaks again. “You don’t have to tell me everything.” She purses her lips. “Or anything at all, really. I get it. We all have our secrets. But if you ever need someone to listen, I’m here.”
“I appreciate that.” I manage a weak smile. It isn’t much, but it’s the best I can do right now.
She smiles back at me and gives my arm another reassuring squeeze before releasing it. “Good. I’m glad.” She rises from the bench. “I’ll be inside if you need me, okay? You shouldn’t stay out here much longer. It’s cold as a tit on a boar!”
I furrow my brow at that one. Cold as a tit on a boar?
Never heard that. It’s kind of funny, but I don’t laugh as she walks back into the hospital.
A minute later, I feel more alone than ever. The cold seems to seep into my bones, and I wrap my arms around myself for warmth. I stare blankly at the ground, as if I think it can answer my question.
Could Jason have done that to Ralph?
The wind picks up again, sending more shivers through me. I close my eyes tightly as a tear slips down my cheek.
“God, what have I gotten myself into?” I whisper into the emptiness.
Jason couldn’t have beaten Ralph. Not like that. Not to the point where he had to go to the hospital.
I could see him punching him in the jaw once or twice, but whoever attacked Ralph clearly wanted him to die.
But Ralph is the only one who knows about us. At least as far as I know. And he mentioned “my boyfriend.”
I shudder, haunted by the possibility of Jason’s guilt.
An overwhelming urge to confront him surges through me. I want to look him in the eyes and ask him outright. Did he attack Ralph? But doing so could unleash a floodgate of consequences I’m not prepared to face.
A soft crunching noise breaks through my thoughts, and I glance up. A lone figure is walking toward me across the hospital garden, his coat flapping in the chilly breeze. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust…
Jason.
It’s Jason.
“Angie?” he asks softly when he reaches me. He sits down next to me on the bench, close but not touching.
“Jason.” I force a smile onto my face. “What are you doing here?”