Chapter 48
CHAPTER
FORTY-EIGHT
APRIL
It’s been two weeks, three days, and sixteen hours since Chance left.
I’m okay.
This is totally okay.
I lived my entire adult life without him. A few months ago, I barely even knew he existed. And he definitely had no clue I existed.
I can survive a long distance relationship.
Sure, I brighten every time I see someone wearing the Lucky Strikers hockey jersey, thinking Chance is back.
And maybe I do drive by the houses we saw together, imagining a life where Chance actually bought a property in Lucky Falls and stuck around.
But I’m fine with the way things are right now. We call and text as much as our schedules allow which is…
Well, it’s not that often anymore.
But he did fly out to see me a few days ago. It wasn’t a long visit since he was actually on a layover and had to leave a few hours later, but it was something.
I’m perfectly fine…
This is…
The wrench in my hand clanks to the ground and the noise rings louder than a gong. What on earth? I stare at the tool near my foot. I want to pick it up, but I can’t. The more I command my hand to move, the more my body rejects the assignment.
I lift my hands slowly and look at them. My fingers are wonky, like someone stretching a picture until it becomes pixelated.
My head constricts.
This is not okay.
Not at all.
Rebel’s returning a car to a client. There’s no one else in the garage to call out to.
I stumble backward, my knees growing weak. And not in the ‘I’m watching Chance in a tuxedo’ kind of weak-at-the-knees.
The room spins like a top on a merry-go-round. I hunker over the trunk of the Corolla I was working on. The weight of my body doubles and I slouch, losing all my ability to balance.
Black spots dance before my eyes.
Out. I need to get out.
Instead of moving forward, I drop to my knees instead. Panicked and desperate, I fight to keep my eyes open despite the pull to close them. Using the car’s bumper as my crutch, I lift myself up.
If I can get to my feet and get to the door, maybe I can call for help.
I push with all my might, but my head is stuffed with cotton and my limbs are over-cooked noodles. Hands slipping off the car, I feel myself dropping backwards with no cushion to dampen my fall.
Just before I hit the ground, the back of my neck snaps against something cold and sharp. My tool box. I hear the faint sound of my name over the explosion of pain in my skull. But by then, it’s too late. Everything goes black.
When my eyes peel apart again, it’s because the ground under me is shaking. Is it an earthquake? It’s too noisy to be heaven. Though, technically, it would make sense that heaven is noisy given the multitudes of people up there.
“You’ll be okay, April. You’ll be okay!” The frantic voice sounds like Rebel.
I agree. I will be okay. I promised Chance that I would. Me not being okay would mean I’d be going against that promise.
Bright lights blur on the ceiling.
Wait, now that I think of it, why is Rebel in heaven with me?
“Carbon monoxide poisoning.”
Those words sound awful and they’re coming from an unknown male voice. I doubt angels would be discussing carbon monoxide poisoning.
Besides, heaven smells distinctly like antiseptic and vanilla air freshener.
“Paramedics… oxygen… procedure…”
Something is tight around my face. An oxygen mask?
They definitely don’t give those out in heaven.
I want to tell everyone I’m okay, but my mouth won’t open. I’m way too tired to do anything but fall back into unconsciousness.
My eyes open with a start. Where am I?
“Sh, it’s okay,” Chance’s hushed voice reaches my ears.
He’s leaning over me with a damp rag and pressing it gently against my forehead. So gently, it’s like he’s afraid I’ll shatter to pieces if he adds any more pressure.
“Chance,” I whisper with relief, reaching for his hand.
He takes my fingers in his. The warmth of his touch brings tears to my eyes. It’s been so long since we held hands. I forgot how tenderly Chance holds me.
My entire life, I’ve fought to be taken seriously and present myself as a tough, knowledgeable mechanic. But with Chance, I’ve never felt like I had to fight or force myself to be tough. I could just… be.
“Where am I?” I ask out loud. “What happened?”
“You’re in bed at home. You’re sick with the flu,” Chance says.
I glance at the discarded tissue paper and the empty flu medicine packets on the ground. “Really?”
He nods and his dark, Prince Eric hair flops forward. “May said you don’t get sick often, but when you do it’s bad . You’ve been struggling to breathe for two days now.”
I blink once. Then twice. The dream where I fell in the mechanic bay felt so real. I can’t believe it was just a figment of my own, sick mind.
“Did you have a bad dream?” Chance asks as he wrings the excess water from the rag and sets it neatly against the edge of a bowl.
“You can say that.”
“Was the nightmare that I wasn’t there when you needed me?” he teases.
I crack a small smile. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have that commercial this week?”
“It’s later today,” Chance says.
I try to shoo him away. “What are you doing here? You need to get to the airport.”
Chance doesn’t look flustered at all. He instead takes a cup of orange juice from the desk and offers it to me.
I push his hand away.
He insists.
I finally accept the drink. “How long until you have to leave?”
“Not sure.”
His answer makes my insides twist and wrench. “Let me drive you back to the airport.”
“You’re not strong enough to drive. Even if you were, I’m not flying out today.”
“Chance, you can’t ditch your commercial. Derek was very clear. You’re on probation with the team. You have to fulfill all your obligations before they announce that you’re back officially.”
“Skipping one commercial won’t hurt me.”
“Really? Because I read the contract and you’ll be next to bankrupt if you don’t. They were very clear about the penalization fees.”
He clears his throat and mumbles, “I knew I shouldn’t have shown you the contract.”
“You have to go.”
“Then… I should probably head out now. I’m already late as is.”
Immediately, a lump forms in my throat. Despite telling him to leave, despite knowing he has to and it’s what we agreed on, my heart screams with pain and I feel a distinct sense of loss.
Chance braces one hand on my headboard, leans over and plants a gentle kiss on my forehead.
“Feel better soon. And call me.”
I nod, watching him turn.
The moment he starts to leave, my hand takes on a mind of its own and I’m suddenly shooting out my arm to grab the hem of his shirt.
Chance turns around with a startled expression.
“Don’t leave,” I whisper brokenly. “Please don’t leave.”
“I’m not going far, April. I’m just letting the doctor know you woke up.”
Who said that?
That voice doesn’t belong to Chance.
The fog clears from my mind and I look up in shock. Instead of falling into heart-stopping blue eyes and a mischievous, white-toothed smile, I see Evan’s weasel-like face.
“Evan?” I croak.
“I’m here, April.”
I realize I’m still clutching the hem of his shirt and I throw it away like I’m touching something radioactive.
Where am I? The ceiling bears a harsh, fluorescent light. Gone are my bedroom curtains and the tissue papers on the floor. My dark comforters disappeared too. Instead, I’m in a hospital cot and wearing a loose hospital gown.
“I’ll be right back.” Evan nods at me and then disappears.
I lie in the silence, stewing in thought. Was what happened in the garage reality? Did I faint for no reason? And what about Chance? Did I even have the flu?
Harried footsteps explode in the hallway.
The door whirrs back.
Rebel shrieks. “April!”
May sighs. “Oh, thank God!”
I brace myself as Rebel and May descend on me. My best friend checks me over while my sister grabs my hand with tears in her eyes.
“I’m so glad you’re up,” May wails. “I was so scared.”
“Ladies, please give the patient some space.” A spritely, older man with wispy white hair and glasses enters the room.
Rebel and May both obey and take a tiny step back.
“W-what happened?” I ask, struggling to sit up.
To my surprise, Evan bounces over and fluffs my pillows. “You were rushed to the hospital after getting carbon monoxide poisoning. You’ve been unconscious for three days.”
“ Three days! ” I blanch.
Evan’s bottom lip trembles and then he bursts out laughing. “No, it hasn’t been long, but I’ve always wanted to be the boyfriend of a coma patient.”
I wish I had a wrench so I could smack him.
“Why is Evan here?” May says harshly.
Rebel folds her arms over her chest. “I literally left for one second. Who let you in?”
“I heard April was rushed to the hospital, so I ran over.”
My brain is so confused.
I ignore everyone and focus on the doctor. “You’re saying I got carbon monoxide poisoning and I’ve just been here. In the hospital. Unconscious?”
“That’s right.” The doctor nods. “Your friend called an ambulance. You were unconscious for about an hour.”
“But that doesn’t make any sense. We have an exhaust fan at the shop for this very reason.”
He nods to Rebel. “Your friend confirmed that a bird had gotten caught in the pipe and blocked the fan. Carbon monoxide doesn’t have a smell or taste or anything to warn that dangerous gas is leaking. You’d been exposed to a dangerous amount before your friend arrived. On top of that, you had a small gash from where you’d fallen against the edge of your tool box.”
I reach under my head. Indeed, there’s a big gauze there.
”I can’t believe I was out for an hour. That’s…” I blow out a breath and shake my head. “What happens now?”
“The poison is no longer in your system and your wound—thankfully—is not so severe. Everything in your scans came back alright. Even so, we’d like to keep you for observation, just in case.”
“Keep her two days if you have to,” May says earnestly. “I want to be sure she’s alright.”
“The nurse will be in to check your vitals, but the fact that you’re up and talking is a really good sign.” The doctor nods.
“When can I leave?” I ask, lifting the hand with the IV drip.
“If you rest tonight and there aren’t any anomalies in the scans you take tomorrow, I foresee you being able to recover quickly.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Evan says as if he’s my doting boyfriend and we never broke up.
Rebel follows the doctor out. “I have a few questions about any symptoms we should look out for…”
May walks closer and offers me my phone. “I called Chance, but he wasn’t picking up, so I left him a message.”
“He’s probably busy.”
Evan pats his chest. “If you were my girl, I’d fly right over if I heard you were in the hospital. What good is a man who isn’t there when you need him?”
He has a point.
I ignore that thought because the last person I want to take relationship advice from is my cheating ex.
“You heard the doctor, Evan. I need to rest.”
“Sure, sure. I’ll be here tomorrow to check on you.”
“Don’t bother,” May tells him tautly.
After Evan leaves, May fluffs my pillows again and cranes her neck to look at my phone. “Has Chance answered yet?”
“No.”
“That’s so weird.” A wrinkle appears between her brow. “I sent a text from my phone and yours. It said he read it. You don’t think Evan’s right and he’s ignoring you, do you?”
“No, Chance and I are fine.”
“Yeah, but why isn’t he answering you back? I’m not asking for him to fly over because of this, but not even a text back when his girlfriend is in the hospital?” She firms her lips. “I’ll send him another text.”
“Don’t bother. He’ll call tomorrow. Bright and early. I’m sure of it.”
But when tomorrow comes, the person who hurries to my bed side is Evan.
And I don’t even get a text back from Chance.