25. Seth
The nurse leads me to the room Gabby and Tasha share, and I stop in the open doorway. “You can go in,” the nurse says quietly. “They’re both awake.” She goes to the computer next to the wall and starts entering vital signs into the computer.
I don’t walk in, though. I wait because I can hear them. Their beds are pushed about a foot apart, and they’re holding hands. Tasha is sobbing, and Gabby is trying to comfort her.
“I’m so sorry,” I hear her say. “I shouldn’t have made you go out. This is all my fault.” Hiccuping sobs make it almost impossible to figure out what she’s saying, but I can hear that much.
“Gabby,” the nurse says. “You have a visitor.”
Gabby doesn’t drop Tasha’s hand, but she rolls toward me. She smiles softly, and her eyes fill with tears. “Seth,” she says. “You’re here.”
“I’m here,” I say.
Her face clouds. “You were there too. My mom told me.”
“I was there.”
She reaches for her forehead. “My head is fuzzy, and it hurts.” She winces.
“Can she get a pain reliever?” I ask the nurse.
She shakes her head. “It won’t help,” she explains. She checks Gabby’s IV and walks out.
“You were there,” she says again. “Mom said you were. She said she called you, and you came to find me.”
“Yes.”
“You found me.” She smiles at me.
“Yes. I’ve never been quite so scared,” I admit.
“I should have stayed in my room.”
Tasha sniffles. “I’m so sorry, Gabs,” she says, her voice quiet.
“It’s not your fault.” She still hasn’t let Tasha’s hand go.
Tasha finally drops Gabby’s hand, and Gabby rolls to grab for mine. “Thank you,” she says. “That could have been so much worse.”
I don’t even want to think about how bad it could have been.
My phone rings, and I pull it out of my pocket. “Pete Reed” shows up on the screen.
I hit the button to accept the phone call and say, “Hey, Pete.” But it’s not just Pete. It’s Pete and his wife, Reagan. “What’s up?” I ask.
“We heard about what happened and wanted to call and be sure that everything is okay,” Pete says. He takes Reagan’s hand in his and gives it a squeeze.
“Actually,” Reagan begins, her voice soft and so full of compassion and knowledge all at once that I have to do a double-take. Regan is fierce and loving, but I’ve never seen her quite so composed. “I heard about what happened, and I wanted to call and tell Gabby and her friend something important. And I didn’t want to wait until tomorrow.”
I realize that Reagan and Pete are both in their pajamas, and Pete still has pillow creases across his face.
“Okay,” I say slowly. I crawl into the bed with Gabby so I can point the phone at both Gabby and Tasha.
“I know you are probably feeling guilty right now, and you could even be wondering what you could have done differently to have prevented this.”
Tasha raises her hand. “It’s my fault,” she says. “Gabby didn’t even want to go out.” She sniffles.
“It’s not your fault,” Reagan says clearly and succinctly. “You can replay it in your mind all you want, but it’s not going to change anything.” She takes a deep breath. “You guys know about my situation. When you’re assaulted, you spend a lot of time wondering if you’d dressed differently, if you’d worn different makeup, or if you’d just stayed home, if you could have avoided it. My mother said something to me that really mattered after my assault. And that was that it wasn’t my fault. If I’d been wrapped in seven layers of clothing, it wouldn’t have been any different than if I had been naked. If I’d stayed home, he’d have hurt someone else. Bad people do bad things. That’s just how it is, unfortunately.” She looks directly into the phone. “It’s important for you to hear that it’s not your fault.” She shrugs. “That’s all I wanted to say. You can text me anytime if you need to talk.”
“Thank you,” Gabby says. “I’m sorry you had to get up in the middle of the night.”
She jerks a thumb toward Pete. “No worries. This one owes me a back-rub.”
He cups his hands around his mouth and pretends to whisper. “That’s what we call our last kid. Back-rub. Because that’s how it always starts out.” He winks dramatically. Then he sobers and says, “Gabby and Tasha, I’m sorry that there are shitty people in the world.”
“Me too,” Gabby says. “But thank you guys for calling.”
He gives us a thumbs-up, and then the call disconnects.
“It’s not your fault,” Gabby says to Tasha.
She nods. “Thank you.”
Tasha’s phone rings. It’s her aunt, who she lived with before college. She rolls onto her side to talk with her. I pull the curtain between the two beds and walk back over to Gabby. I crawl into bed with her, and she rolls so we are face to face.
“You came for me,” she whispers. She kisses the tip of my nose.
“I’ll always come for you,” I whisper back. “This could have been so much worse.”
Suddenly, there’s a commotion at the door. Gabby’s mom stops and smiles as she sees us in the bed. “Gabby,” she says. “I don’t want to disturb you, but I have to go. I’ll be back in a few hours.”
“Go to the hotel and get some sleep, Mom,” Gabby says. “You can use my bed.”
She shakes her head. She grins. “I have to go and get Jake out of jail first.”
Gabby rolls so she can give her mom her full attention. “What?” she asks.
“Jake flew here with me, but he went straight to the police station. He has a friend who works there.” She winces. “They trusted him a little too much.”
“What happened?” Gabby asks.
“He got a hold of one of the guys. He told them he wanted to talk to him for a minute. It didn’t go well.” She smiles. “I need to go and bail him out.”
“Why did he do that?” Gabby asks.
“Someone tried to hurt you, Gabs,” she explains patiently.
“Jake’s a gentle giant,” Gabby laments.
“Until someone tries to hurt one of his kids,” Mrs. J. explains.
“That’s what dads do,” Gabby says, and her eyes well up.
“Yeah, sweetie, that’s what dads do,” Mrs. J. says, swiping a lock of hair from Gabby’s forehead so she can kiss it. “I’ll be back in a few hours.” She looks at me. “You’ll stay with her, Seth?” she asks.
“I’ll be right here,” I assure her.
Her mom nods. “I know you will be. Right by her side. I’ll see you guys later.” She stops and smiles. “Pop is never going to let Jake live this one down,” she says with a laugh. Then she walks out the door.
I get comfortable next to Gabby again. She stares at me. “I think you should marry me,” she says.
“Nope,” I pretend to protest. “That’s my line.”
“Nope,” she says. “It’s mine.”
“Okay, fine,” I pretend to grouse. “But I bought a ring. It’s back at my apartment. I’ll give it to you when we get home.”
“I’ll accept it.”
“You had better.”
She kisses the tip of my nose again. “I will.”
“I love you,” I say.
“I love you too,” she replies. She bends her head and presses her forehead against my chest, and then she silently starts to cry. I cup the back of her head and say nothing while she has her moment. I don’t try to coddle her or soothe her; I just let her cry. She finally sniffs, wipes her nose on my shirt, and lifts her head to look at me.
“Gross,” I say.
“Yeah, well, needs must,” she replies.