CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE FALLON
C HAPTER T WENTY -T HREE
FALLON
All I can hear, over and over in my head, is Sully’s body, thumping to the floor.
On repeat.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
Followed by a low groan.
I can still see him, on the floor, almost lifeless, unable to move. I left the room for a second, to check on his bedroom and make sure he didn’t leave anything on the floor after getting dressed. I picked up his clothes to start a load of laundry, and then everything went to hell.
It’s a miracle Jaz and I were able to carefully get him into my car.
I realize moving someone who fell might not have been the best of ideas, but he fell after he injured himself, a large gash across his palm.
My medical training kicked in, and I went right to work by cutting off the bleeding with a clean, tightly wrapped rag and fastening a sling to keep his hand at heart level.
After that, I assessed the rest of him and realized he’d fallen on his right side, so we carefully got him in the car, the passenger seat reclined, and I rushed him down the mountain.
It would have taken longer if I’d called for an ambulance—this was the best option.
My grip was so tight on the steering wheel as I drove that I felt my fingers melting into it as I begged Grandma Joan, over and over, to make sure he was okay.
Because this happened on my watch. I never should have let him handle that knife on his own while cutting a bagel.
I never should have left him alone like he asked me to.
I know better than that, especially when he’s not lucid.
Thankfully I still have friends at the hospital, because I called when I was five minutes away and begged them to have a stretcher at the entrance for him.
When I pulled up, they were waiting. They carefully unloaded an unconscious Sully and wheeled him into the emergency room while I parked the car.
On the way in, I called my dads, who are just outside of Phoenix, scoping out some new properties to expand their Airbnb business. They got on the road immediately to come home.
And after I hung up with them, I saw all the text messages.
One from Sawyer, telling me he was on his way and to not listen to anything Jaz was saying. When I checked out the text messages from Jaz, I only found messages asking if Sully was okay. Telling me I was strong and she was there for me if I needed anything.
After that, I went up to the nurses’ station, where I found Gardenia, the head nurse, and asked her if she knew anything on Sully. She said they were stitching him up, and then they were going to put him through some x-rays and a CT scan to determine if anything was wrong.
They got me a cup of the good coffee and helped me back to my seat, where I’ve been waiting ever since, rocking back and forth, willing the thumping to leave my head.
I consider texting Jaz back, asking her what the hell Sawyer is talking about, but I know whatever it is, I don’t have the energy to deal with it right now. Those two are always getting into it with each other—the last thing I need to deal with is some small squabble.
The doors to the exam rooms open, and a familiar face appears.
Peter.
For the life of me, I didn’t even consider running into him here.
The thought never crossed my mind, but now that he’s here, a friend in a sea of uncertainty, I burst into a fit of tears.
Embarrassed, I bury my head in my hands, and in seconds, he’s sitting beside me, his strong arm wrapped around my shoulders.
“It’s going to be okay,” Peter says as I lean into his embrace and rest my head against his shoulder. He pulls me in tight. “Shhh, it’s okay, Fallon.”
“I shouldn’t have let him use the knife—that was beyond stupid of me. I was just so distracted with the cabins, I was thoughtless.”
“Hey, this is not your fault,” Peter says softly. “This is not your fault at all. These things happen with our older patients. As much as you want to protect him all the time, you can’t.”
“I always hide the knives, but I was so tired I forgot to put that one away after it dried. God, Peter, what was I thinking?”
“This is a lot to handle, Fallon. You can’t be perfect.”
“He’s my grandfather; I have to be perfect for him. I have to be able to protect him. And the thump of him hitting the ground. That’s all I can hear, over and over again. I know he hit his head as well—there was a bruise forming in the car.”
“Hey.” Peter presses his fingers to my chin and forces me to look at him. “This was an accident. No one’s to blame. We’re running all the tests, and I’ll make sure he’s okay.”
My eyes search his, tears streaming down my cheeks as I slowly nod. “Thank you, Peter.”
“Anything for you, Fallon. Anything.” He smiles, but something catches his eyes from over my shoulder, and that smile fades. His gaze returns to mine. “I’ll be back with more information. Okay?”
I nod and loop my hand behind his neck as I pull him in close for a hug, our cheeks pressing together. “Thank you, Peter.”
“You’re welcome.” As he stands, our hands connect, and he gives mine a squeeze before taking off.
I watch him walk away, through the electronic doors and down the hallway.
When he’s out of view, I turn back to my phone, but a movement catches my eye, and I look up to see Sawyer standing a few feet away.
And his expression is murderous.
“I see that you didn’t take a second to even consider my text before moving on.”
“What?” I ask, completely and utterly confused.
“I told Jaz, nothing happened between me and Annalisa. I asked you to trust me, and yet here you are, snuggling into your ex.”
Annalisa?
He was with Annalisa? When?
My mind whirls, trying to remember a moment where we were apart long enough for him to even see her.
“Jesus Christ, Fallon, you couldn’t have even waited an hour for me to explain.”
The stress of Sully combined with his senseless accusation has me tipping over the edge with anger. “Don’t tell me you are accusing me of being with Peter?”
“What the hell am I supposed to expect?” Insecurity is laced in his every word, squeezing the syllables extra tight.
In the back of my mind, I can partially understand where this is coming from—his experience with Annalisa—but what he’s saying is so insulting, during a moment when I don’t need it, that all rational thought is thrown out the window.
Because I need him. I need him to put us first. To put me first, because I have no other option than to put Sully first in my life.
I thought Sawyer understood that from the very beginning.
He made it seem like I truly wasn’t alone in this scary journey of being my grandfather’s caretaker, but today.
.. I’ve never felt more alone in my life.
I rise out of my chair and walk up to him. “I suggest you lower your voice and choose your words wisely.”
“I know Jaz sent you the pictures of me and Annalisa at the cabins. But I’m telling you right now, nothing happened.”
Uh ... excuse me?
Call it stress.
Call it being mentally exhausted, but hearing she was at the Cove—the woman who broke him—sends me into a tailspin of doubt.
“And I didn’t tell you she was there because I know you were dealing with Sully this morning. I took her into the cabin because she wanted to talk. Nothing else.”
I take a step back, my mind whirling. “Hold on a goddamn second—she was here this morning? You were with her? So, when I screamed down the stairs for help, because Sully fell, the reason you weren’t there was because you were with Annalisa ?”
Pain flickers in his eyes. “I didn’t... I didn’t know. You know I would have—”
“And then, when I’m here in the waiting room of the hospital, worrying about my grandfather, instead of asking how he’s doing, the first thing you do is accuse me of being with another man?”
“Fuck,” he whispers while pulling on his hair. “Listen, Fallon, I—”
“No, you listen.” I jab a finger into his chest. “Jaz never said a thing to me—all she’s done is be supportive, so whatever this Annalisa bullshit is, it’s news to me.
” His face blanches, his expression going stark with regret.
“And not that I need to explain myself to you, but Peter was doing nothing other than consoling me as a friend and telling me that everything was going to be okay. So, you barging in here with the idea that I’m running back to my ex, when I have no idea what’s going on with my grandfather, is disgusting. ”
“Fallon, I’m sorry.”
“Save it, Sawyer.” I move away from him and take a seat again. When he moves to sit next to me, I hold my hand up. “Unless you want to be dragged out of here by security—because I have friends here—then I suggest you leave on your own accord.”
“Fallon,” he says, his voice breaking. “Let me at least be here with you.”
“Honestly, Sawyer, you’re the last person I want around me right now.” I grip my phone and look away. “Now leave, or I’ll make sure you’re escorted out of here.”
I turn away so I don’t have to be witness to the look of devastation on his face. I can’t.
I can’t shoulder the burden of his pain.
Not right now.
I need to focus on one thing—making sure Sully is okay. I will never forgive myself if he isn’t.
I am so grateful that the nursing staff loves me here.
They’ve been taking care of me while I wait alone to hear about Sully.
My friend Daniel sat with me on his break.
We talked about his latest crush, Mark, an anesthesiologist in the OR, who is apparently a comedian in his spare time.
Daniel has been to ten of his shows: two Mark knows about, eight where he hid in the back in disguise.
When Daniel’s break was done, Mary Fran sat with me and shared her caramel M&M’S while she told me about the fortieth anniversary party she’d shared with her dear husband, Joe.
There was a balloon artist for the grandkids, and one of the balloons popped in her sister’s face, making her slightly pee her pants—I got a chuckle out of that.