Chapter 39 Carson
CARSON
“Ibrought you a Coke,” Grace says, creeping into the little curtained area in the Bloomington emergency room where I’ve been for the last six hours. It’s almost midnight, and I’m exhausted, and I’m sticky from dried sweat and smelly and my ankle hurts and my heart is broken.
Dan
I had to go to New York. I’m sorry. I hope you crush it.
For the ten thousandth time, I stare down at the text and let out a bitter laugh. Crush it? I got crushed, Dan.
In so many ways.
I keep replaying the moment before I left the house, when he pulled me in for that knee-melting kiss.
I was distracted and nervous and didn’t pay attention, but looking back, something was definitely up.
He had a desperate look in his eye that I chalked up to lust, but it was obviously more than that.
What happened that made him board a flight without saying a word to me?
After I hit the ground during the scrimmage, there was a cacophony of whistles.
Violet came racing out along with the medic.
My ankle was already swelling, so they eased off my skate and helped me to the sideline.
Grace sprang into action, running to the locker room to gather my stuff while Owen looked at my ankle.
I talked everyone out of calling an ambulance, and Owen agreed that Grace could give me a ride to the emergency room.
It wasn’t until I’d settled into a curtained-off bed for my interminable wait that I pulled out my phone and learned that Dan had left the state.
Grace hasn’t said a word about her brother’s absence.
“Thanks,” I tell her, reaching for the Styrofoam cup.
A doctor in a white coat who looks like he’s about twelve breezes into the space, his eyes never leaving the iPad in his hands.
“Okay, looks like you have a Weber A fracture—hey, Carson Webber! That’s appropriate!
” He looks up at me like I’m going to laugh at the coincidence.
Instead I burst into tears. His eyes go wide as dinner plates.
“Hey, it’s okay! Of all the ankle fractures to get, this is probably the best one.
Just six weeks in a boot, and you should be good to go.
It’ll look like a Picasso for a few days until the swelling goes down and the bruising starts to fade, but it should feel better in a week or so.
And once you’re done with the boot, you shouldn’t have any other complications. ”
He flips the iPad around so I can see the X-ray, but the image is blurry through my tears. It’s the first time I’ve cried since Mercedes landed on my leg, and it doesn’t have a thing to do with the injury.
“I think she’s just a little overwhelmed and tired,” Grace says, smiling as she ushers the doctor away from me.
“I’ll just put in the order for the boot,” he says, looking slightly traumatized. This kid is going to need to toughen up if he plans to work in an emergency department. The eye black running down my cheeks cannot be the most horrifying thing this man has ever seen.
“Yup, we’ll be here,” Grace says, whisking the curtain shut behind him. She turns and rolls her eyes. “I cannot believe society thinks men are stronger than women.”
I chuckle through my tears.
“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry this is happening,” Grace says, pulling the flimsy plastic chair beside the bed closer. She drops down into it. “But it sounds like you’re going to be back on your feet in no time, and you were so incredible out there today. I bet you won’t lose a step.”
“I was pretty good, wasn’t it?” I say between sniffles.
“You were better than good,” she says. “I just wish you could have enjoyed it.”
I wait for her to say something else, maybe remind me that she warned me about Dan. That I’m sunshine and he’s rain, that he doesn’t know how to open up, that I shouldn’t be surprised that he’s left me without a word.
She doesn’t.
“He wasn’t there,” I say, the tears coming faster now.
“I know,” she says, taking my hand in hers and stroking her thumb across my skin. “But if he had to go to New York, I’m sure it was for something really—”
The curtain flies open, and his frame fills the small space. He’s wearing a dark navy suit, his white dress shirt rumpled, his collar open and his gray tie loose. His eyes are dark and wild, like he hasn’t slept in days, and his chest is heaving like he sprinted all the way here from New York.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice a deep rasp, like its clawing its way out of his throat.
“No, she’s not okay,” Grace snaps. “She has a fractured fibula, and you weren’t there.”
“I know, I—”
“No,” Grace says, jumping up from her chair.
She approaches her brother, puts a hand on his chest, and gives him a gentle shove.
“Dan, you’re my brother and I love you, but no.
You don’t get to come crashing in here looking all tortured and expect her to listen to your excuses.
The time for explanations was before you jumped on a plane and left Carson wondering where the hell you went. ”
But Dan plants his feet into the shiny white floor of the hospital, his eyes never leaving mine.
“I know. I know I hurt you, Carson, and I’m so fucking sorry. Please just let me explain.”
Grace, my best friend and personal hospital bouncer, looks at me over her shoulder, her eyebrows raised.
I give her a nod, and she turns back to Dan. Based on the way he takes the tiniest step back, she must be giving him a hell of a glare.
“I’ll be right outside,” she says, and I don’t know if that’s meant to reassure me or threaten him.
He stands there, feet planted wide, his hand scrubbing the back of his head, looking absolutely tortured.
And I let him.
For a bit, anyway.
“You left,” I say finally, the words coming out as a watery whisper.
Dan looks like I’ve driven a knife between his ribs.
“Yeah,” he croaks.
“And what’s worse, you left without talking to me,” I say. “You’re supposed to talk to me. That’s what we did. We talked.”
He hangs his head. “I know.”
I sigh. “I thought…I don’t know. It’s just, I thought maybe this all meant more—”
His gaze snaps back up. He takes two long steps toward me but stops short of the bed. “It does,” he says, his voice desperate. “It means so much more. You mean so much more. Fuck, Carson, you mean everything.”
I shake my head. “But when it came down to it, you left.”
He closes his eyes, breathing in like he’s trying to endure physical pain. “I made a mistake. I’m so, so sorry.”
I don’t know what to say. I want to reflexively accept his apology. To toss off an it’s fine. To brush it all away. That’s what I do. It’s a hazard of being a generally positive person.
But it’s not fine. I’m not okay.
“You hurt me,” is what I finally say.
Dan drops to his knees, leaning on the bed like he’s going to pray for my forgiveness.
“I know. I fucked it all up. Marcel called and told me I was probably being indicted, that I needed to come or they’d arrest me here, in front of you.
And I just couldn’t bear it, Carson. I couldn’t do that to you. ”
“What you did was worse.”
“I know that now. And I’ll regret it forever,” he says.
“You’ve spent this summer becoming the fiercest, most independent version of you.
Tonight I was going to get to see you prove it.
See you be out loud the person you’ve always been inside, and I fucked it up.
I ruined that moment for you, and I’ll never forgive myself. ”
I’m crying again, silent tears streaking down my face. It’s all too much. My ankle hurts, it’s sinking in that I won’t be able to play roller derby for a while, and this man who wrecked my heart, really raked it over the coals, is on his knees at my bedside, apologizing.
And he’s here.
He flew to New York, then turned around and came back.
For me.
“Wait, did you say you’re getting arrested?” I ask.
“Yeah.”
My mouth drops open. “Dan, that’s a big deal. What are you doing here?”
“I don’t know. I just knew that I couldn’t live with myself for treating you like that.
I get it if you can’t trust me anymore. I’ve certainly given you every reason to think you aren’t important to me.
But please, let me make it up to you. If you give me another chance, I’ll spend as long as I have proving how much I love you.
I’ll be at every derby game. I’ll buy you that wallpaper and hang it wherever you want.
I’ll follow you wherever you want to go.
Please, just let me back in. I’ll be the luckiest motherfucker on the planet if you let me bask in your sunshine a little longer. ”
He takes my hands in his and gazes up at me, his eyes filled with desperation. “I love you, Carson. I’m a coward and an asshole for not telling you that earlier. But please, let me tell you now. Let me tell you forever. I love you, my sunshine girl.”
“Fuck, Dan,” I say, laughing through tears as I realize, the combination of the emotions letting me know that I’m going to be okay. That we’re going to be okay. “I love you too, goddammit.”
He lets out a breath like he’s been yanked back from a ledge. Then a smile begins to spread across his face. “There’s that dirty mouth.”
He stands, leaning over the bed, and gives me a look that says, may I?
I reach for his tie, wrap it around my fist, and pull him down until he’s kissing me, his lips repeating every beautiful thing he said to me. He groans into my mouth, his knee landing on the bed beside me as he moves to cover my body with his.
“I was so good today, Dan,” I say against his lips. “I killed it.”
I feel his smile against my mouth. “I have no doubt, baby.”
Someone clears their throat nearby, and I look up to see the teenage doctor holding his iPad and the boot I’ve been sentenced to.
“Sorry to, uh, interrupt,” he says, his cheeks red. “We ready for this?”
The boot, as Nancy Sinatra so famously sang, is made for walking.
But apparently not for a week or so.