11.
Dahlia
T he machines beeped around the room and the sterile scent of the hospital comforted me. Where others might feel panicked to be there, and to see someone they cared about hooked up to wires and machines, I felt calm.
He was sleeping, though it was fitful, and I hated that his demons chased him into his dreams. Matt called out in his sleep, shaking his head from side to side and clenching his fists like he was ready to take on the world even with his eyes tightly closed.
It was sad. He had slept so soundly when we had been together. Though granted that had been many years ago. But he had been the sort of sleeper to say goodnight, close his eyes, and drift to another place. He would often recall his dreams to me the next day before we had even gotten out of bed. When the dreams were still dancing behind his eyes. And I would smile and laugh at the absurdity of them.
Because wasn’t that what dreams were like? Absurd. They showed us things that our brains were trying to make sense of. Things that had happened. Things that hadn’t. They showed us our hopes and dreams. I had always featured in Matt’s dreams, in some silly way.
That had been my first clue that something had been very wrong all those years ago…he had stopped dreaming about me.
He would wake in the morning and get straight out of bed, like he didn’t dare put voice to the things he had seen behind his closed lids, for fear that it might make them real. It looked like that hadn’t mattered anyway, because his life had fallen apart regardless, and now look at him.
I took his hand in mine and shushed him as he called out again, and I stared down at his handsome, rugged face. His skin was tanned and lined around the eyes like he had spent a good portion of his life outdoors and squinting at the sun. But beneath that I could see the dark, gray circles from lack of sleep.
His hair was dark and thick—too long behind the ears, which made it flick out. He was long overdue for a haircut, though I wondered if he wore it a little longer now.
So much time had passed between us.
So much had happened.
It had taken years to truly get over Matt. To push away the memories of him and us because they were too painful to keep at the forefront. We had been perfect together, and then he had ruined it.
I had eventually fallen in love with another man—Alex—and we had planned to have a house full of kids, but something had stopped my body from conceiving every time. We never knew if it was because of him or me, and we had never wanted to find out. Alex and I had some great times together, and I wasn’t sure what I was going to do without him. How do you get over a broken heart for the second time?
But when I should have been planning Alex’s funeral, I was sitting at Matt’s bedside, holding his hand and wondering how the hell he had known that I had said he would die a lonely man.
Matt called out again and I rubbed my thumb over the top of his hand and hushed him some more until he quieted back down. The day was spilling into night, and I wasn’t sure what to do next. I couldn’t go home—it wasn’t safe anymore. I wasn’t sure what Alex had done, but he had done something bad because in all our years together he had never let club business interfere with our home life. Yet he had been gone two days, and our house and car had been shot up.
If my mom could see me now, she would be wagging her finger and telling me she told me so. It was a small blessing she hadn’t spoken to me since the day Alex and I had gotten married. She had always said that marrying a man like Alex would get me killed, and that she couldn’t sit by and watch it happen.
My life had been one long mess.
I sighed again and laid my head on the edge of the bed. I closed my eyes against the stark whiteness of the sterile room and let my thoughts drift to another time. A time when I was with my husband, and we were happy. A time when he wasn’t dead. When he hadn’t let the club take over his life and get him killed. A time when we both had hopes and dreams for the future. When we believed we would have kids, and we would have forever together.
But the images twisted and changed, altering between Alex and Matt. Morphing from happiness to sadness. To dreams of a life fulfilled, to the day Matt walked away from me. From the day the police knocked on my door.
The images became one, and I didn’t know how to separate them into two different stories. Because that’s what they were. Different stories. There was the life I had led with Matt, believing that we would finish out college together and go see the world before we settled down, and then there was the life after he left me. Where I was sad and broken, miserable beyond compare, and then I had met Alex. He had been charming and funny, not to mention gorgeous. He had slowly coaxed me back to life and then I had let myself fall in love again.
I still remembered the day I realized I loved Alex. It was the day I realized I no longer loved Matt.
I didn’t realize I was crying until I felt a heavy hand on the back of my head, thick fingers stroking through the long red locks. I slowly blinked the room back into focus and lifted my head, seeing Matt staring down at me with a sad look on his face.
“You’re okay?” he said it like a question, like he needed me to tell him because he didn’t trust himself.
“Yeah,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. “So are you,” I added, though he didn’t look like he cared about himself one bit. “The bullet went through your shoulder, but it was a through and through, so it wasn’t too bad. It was the blood loss that almost killed you.”
He nodded an okay, but again didn’t seem too concerned about himself.
“You could have died, Matt,” I said, needing him to understand because it felt like he didn’t.
“I’m at peace with that,” he replied simply.
I scowled and sat up, releasing his hand as I did, despite him trying to hold on to it. “How can you be so blasé about your life? You were shot, Matt—you could have died.”
He reached for me, but I pulled my hands onto my lap. “I know, but I just don’t care, Dahl. All I care about is that you’re okay.”
My old nickname slipped from his lips easily, as if he had been saying it for the past twenty years. I hated that. I hated the way he just acted like nothing had changed, when everything had changed. We weren’t the same people we were back then. Too much heartache had happened to be the same people.
“Well, I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about me.” I wanted to tell him that I wasn’t any of his concern, but looking at the expression on his face, I wasn’t sure he’d hear me anyway. “I better get going.”
His eyes filled with panic and he reached for me again. “Stay for a little longer, please.”
I kept my hands out of his reach. “I need to get going. One of your…friends is outside in case anyone tries to get in here.” I shook my head and huffed out an annoyed laugh.
“What is it?” he asked.
I wanted to be kind and gentle. I wanted to make him feel better, because he was clearly hurting right now, but a burst of anger was growing inside me.
“Dahlia, what is it?”
I scowled down at him. “You have someone sitting outside your room with a gun, Matt, that’s what’s wrong.”
He frowned, confused. “He’s there to protect me... not that I need protecting.”
I scowled harder. “He’s there to protect you… Matt, you’re in the hospital. You could have died. They came to my house and tried to kill me…you? I don’t even know who they were trying to kill, but it was my house they shot at. Alex’s truck, and our home together.”
“I know all that,” he growled out, irritated. “And they’ll pay for that. I don’t know what you’re telling me, woman.”
I scoffed, even more irritated. “Woman? Who are you even talking to right now? Because I have a name, and it isn’t woman. ”
“I know that. I’m sorry. Look, they’re going to find the pussies that did this and they’re going to send them to ground. You don’t need to worry, the club’s got it handled. Trust me on this.”
“You’re not listening to me!” I yelled, hating that I was shouting in a hospital, but it seemed like yelling was the only way he could hear me. They only way I could get through to him.
“I don’t fuckin’ understand, Dahl.”
“Matt, you risked your life for this club. You almost died for it.”
“No, I almost died protecting you, for my club, and for me. And I’d do it all over again, even if it did mean dying. I took an oath.”
I rolled my eyes and looked away. “This club just takes everything from you stupid men, and you all keep on letting it.”
I turned and started to walk across the room. I was so done with this club and all the delusional people in it. I might have lost Alex, but at least I was finally done with the club once and for all. I could finally walk away from it.
“Please don’t leave,” Matt begged.
“I can’t stay,” I replied without turning around.
“Please…please, Dahlia, I lost you once. I don’t want to lose you again.”
He sounded so pitiful and sad, and I almost felt sorry for him. But then I remembered that it had always been his choice. Once again he was choosing which way he wanted to live, and once again it was the wrong choice.
“I can’t stay. This club took Alex from me—”
“Who?”
“Alex!” I yelled. “My husband.”
“You mean Rocky?” He winced as he said his name, like it was physically painful for him to utter my dead husband’s name.
I kept on walking, determined to not turn back. I couldn’t. If I did, I might stay, and I couldn’t stay. The very worst thing had happened: Alex was dead. He had died because of this club, and I wasn’t sitting around waiting for it to happen to Matt.
“Dahlia, please,” Matt begged louder as I reached the door.
“I don’t want anything to do with the club…or you, Matt. As soon as the club finds out who tried to shoot me, I’m done, and you will never see me again.”
It felt like only yesterday when I had made a similar promise to Alex, only back then I had no idea that the club and I would remain entwined regardless. This time, however, I was determined to leave it all behind.
I turned the handle and left the room, ignoring Matt’s pleading. The biker sitting outside looked up at me and smiled. He was just a kid, barely a man really, and I knew enough about biker life to know that he was just starting out.
“Guess he’s finally awake,” he said, stating the obvious. He pulled out his phone.
“Yeah,” I replied, just as Matt called my name again.
“Dahlia, please, come back…”
The biker and I stared at each other as my name echoed down the hallway.
“Do yourself a favor… get out while you still can,” I said.
He smirked. “I’m good, but thanks. Think JD wanted you to stay put until he sent someone for you.”
I wanted to slap his face and knock some of the bravado and cockiness from him, but instead I rolled my eyes as I started to walk away.
“Uh, wait…I need you to stay,” he called after me.
“I’m good, but thanks,” I tossed back over my shoulder, and then I walked away.