75. Dollie—present day
Dollie—present day
I reenter the waiting room outside of Ambrose’s room after a quick bathroom break.
It’s been more than eight hours since Valaria and I found him after he tried to end his life, but I’m the one who looks like death.
To the point that three separate nurses have asked me if I want my face looked at today.
The swelling around my eyes and the big, puffy top lip prevented each of them from receiving a convincing no.
I can’t leave here until I’ve seen Ambrose… spoken to him.
I’ve far too many concerns that this is my karma. That I’ll lose him for what I did.
A small tear splats the old linoleum flooring.
A nurse in the distance drops her clipboard, the noise making me jump on the spot. My company—Valaria—doesn’t notice, staring aimlessly into her cup as I waddle closer to her and the coffee she’s drinking.
I give the blood in my underwear a single thought as I readjust my shorts that are too far up my hips.
Physically, I’m hurt from the things Shane has done. My body gives me away each time I try to put on a brave face, but emotionally, I’m crippled. I can’t focus on anything but Ambrose for any more than a few seconds, not even my parents.
Back in the waiting area, I can’t stay away from the semi-open blinds that show me Ambrose beneath cotton sheets that drape across his waist.
“He’s awake,” I breathe out with a stutter and a few more tears.
My feet itch to walk to his door, but his doctor—the bossy guy in the long white coat who I’d met earlier—thought it best he speak to his psychologist before seeing his family—meaning me, and she’s hogged the room ever since, waiting for his eyes to open.
Valaria says nothing as she sits on a green chair behind me. It creaks constantly. When she wiggles, I remember how uncomfortable they are, so I keep my complaints about the irritating noise to myself.
My phone flashes at her side, the annoying vibration grating across the hard plastic. Glancing quickly at the phone, I know exactly who it is. Shane, wondering why I haven’t answered his every need. I ignore it, like I ignored the message from Ambrose that I only discovered an hour ago.
A disappointed huff slips out of me, fogging the glass until I see nothing.
Valaria sips a coffee, or rather air, not realizing her cup is actually empty, and this pulls my attention back to her.
She sighs heavily. “I’m gonna get another. Do you want one?”
“Are you sure you want to stay?” in this drab old room, in need of painting.
“Yeah, I’ll keep you company until you’ve seen him.”
She’s been here as long as I have, and she’s actually been good company.
She even closed The Funhouse today, and she hasn’t once complained about it.
But it’s hard to continuously fight off thoughts that she isn’t here to keep me company, and that she’s here because maybe she has a soft spot for Ambrose.
Ignoring the jealous twinge that gives me is hard.
“Thank you.” I keep my thoughts a secret.
“Dollie darling!”
Before Valaria can so much as nod, Annabelle arrives, swinging one arm around me, the other holding a cupholder with overly full drinks spilling over the scuffed floors.
“Oh, shit.” She steadies the drinks before setting them on a nearby seat. “What the fuck happened to Ambrose?”
Long hair flies around her as her face meets mine head-on for the first time today. Her jaw falls to the floor, the chewing gum she had between her teeth going with it.
My eyes stay low, on the gum, until fast fingers pick it up, and she takes it to the tiny trash can in the corner.
Lifting my gaze, I notice her eyes roam the scratches on my cheeks and hate flares down her nostrils.
She doesn’t comment with Valaria in the room, who has also glanced at each bruise a few times, without making her own comments since arriving here.
“Ambrose tried to kill himself this morning.”
“Nyx told me. I didn’t have my phone with me while at work today because of meetings, but I just listened to all his voicemails. He said you and a friend brought him in this morning. I came as soon as I could.”
Nyx arrived before the ambulance, a tribe in tow to fix up my yard. He’d been helpful and supportive in the way that only someone with a heart as big as his could be.
“Why did Ambrose do that? Because of…” she points to my face, no longer able to keep her lips sealed.
“He hasn’t seen it.”
“So, why did he try to end his life? Is he okay? Why are you all bruised? What the fuck set Shane off this time?”
Too many questions spew from her mouth.
My chest heaves, and my head pounds, feeling too overwhelmed by all of them.
A glance back at Ambrose centers me slightly. My sweaty palm flattens to the glass between us. His mouth moves on the other side, saying something I can’t understand from this angle, which shows too little.
An empty feeling opens in my chest, now that my heartbeat is regular—a longing to get into that room.
Annabelle slides down into the chair next to Valaria, and that one creaks too. I step back toward them.
Annabelle’s red painted lips gently curl into a soft smile. They aren’t the red lips I want to see right now.
“Is he okay?”
“He’s awake. But I haven’t spoken to him yet, and I need to. I need to apologize because I think it’s my fault.”
“How could it be your fault?” she asks.
“I just know it is.” I sink into my own squeaky chair. The hard green plastic is harsh on the pain I feel between my legs. “We were doing things, and I said to stop.”
Annabelle glances at Valaria, those shocking white teeth on display as she smiles wider, knowing how all this would sound to the average person who knows that Ambrose and I are siblings, but not of our special bond.
Valaria sits with an indifferent expression on her made-up face.
With her eyes back on my fidgeting fingers, Annabelle says, “That wouldn’t make him try to kill himself, Dollie. So what, you said stop. He’s waited years.”
“He went quiet.”
“Isn’t he always quiet?” There’s no judgment in Valaria’s eyes, not a hint of jealousy, either. Sympathy shines in brown globes when she continues. “I thought he wasn’t able to speak?”
“He’s had a psychological block since we were children. But something lifted it recently. He’d been talking to me these past few days. Since we… since things started happening, and then last night, things happened again, and we were in his room, but Shane came to the door, and I panicked.”
“And that’s why you stopped things?” Annabelle tries to piece things together.
“Yeah…”
“And did Shane do this because of that?” Again, Annabelle’s finger swirls around my face, my eyes following her bright orange nail.
“No. This happened before that. I told Ambrose I didn’t want the lights on because of a headache.”
Annabelle sighs, and her shoulders sag. “I wonder why you had a headache, Dollie. What the fuck? You’re swollen to shit.”
“This isn’t about me.”
“Fine. Another time will be about you. What happened next?”
“Well, this morning, Shane was playing this song that Ambrose hates. On repeat. Constantly. But Ambrose wouldn’t hear that from upstairs, right? That wouldn’t be the reason?”
“I doubt it, unless it was blasting.” Annabelle shrugs.
“Exactly, and before that, I was upstairs with Shane. And things were happening with him, but I didn’t want them to. I just wanted it to be over, so he’d leave.”
“Dollie, hold up.” Long nails point to the badly painted ceiling as Annabelle raises a hand. “What are you saying exactly?”
“That she was sexually assaulted.”
Annabelle and Valaria share a look that makes me feel cold on the inside.
“No. I let him do it… and I moaned.” My face scrunches as my eyes close. “Shane told me that I should show him I’m his, and I felt this pressure that I couldn’t say no. So, when he told me to moan for him, I did.”
“But you didn’t want to do it?” Annabelle grits her fancy teeth.
“It probably sounded like I did. Oh, God.” My hands swallow my face. “I did this. I told him I had chosen him, then I told him no, and I did that with Shane. What if he heard?”
“Then you explain that you felt like you didn’t have a choice.”
“I can’t do that. I’m trying to do all I can to keep them away from each other. I know Shane would have him sent back to prison.”
“Who is this Shane anyway?” Valaria questions.
“We’ve been together my whole adult life, but we’ve been in a bad place for the last few weeks and decided to slow things down. He’s always had a problem with how much I need Ambrose.”
“Try and keep in mind also, Ambrose and Dollie aren’t blood siblings.”
“Yes, I know. He said that when she first got into town.”
My eyes widen to know he’d spoken of me.
“He didn’t say anything else.”
“Most people don’t understand us. He’s been accused since we were teenagers of assaulting me and creating a trauma bond.
But that’s not what happened. Trauma brought us close, but not trauma caused by him.
But no one else has to understand that I don’t love him like a brother, that I need him like I need air.
Only I need to know that. What we feel for each other can’t be wrong. ”
“As long as you’re both comfortable with your feelings, it’s no one else’s business.” Annabelle’s hand stretches across to me with a pink-colored boba tea from her side. “Have this, calm your nerves a little.”
“I’m sorry, Annabelle. I can’t.”
“Are you still not eating?” She retracts her arm, taking the smiley plastic cup away from me.
“I can’t right now.”
“He’s gonna need you healthy. So, maybe in a little while?”
“Maybe.”
Annabelle sets the tea back in the cup holder and passes a coffee to Valaria, keeping one for herself.
“I hope I got this right. I have no idea what you like, so I just went with a latte. There’s milk and sugar in the holder.”
“I appreciate it.”