Chapter Twenty-Eight
Ashley
“ What do you mean, ‘he’s not ready to talk to me’ ?”
“He needs time to process what’s happened.”
Ryan’s voice was calm and soft. A de-escalation tactic I knew all too well and frequently used with riled-up patients. Unfortunately for him, the fact that he thought he needed to try to de-escalate things only pissed me off even more.
“So, he’ll talk to you, but he won’t talk to me.”
“He’s been through a lot, Ash. He doesn’t know which way is up right now.”
“I get that, but I don’t understand why he’s shutting me out.”
“It’s not just you. He’s shutting us all out. He asked me not to come to Germany.”
That took me aback, and I frowned.
“He did?”
“Yeah.”
The helpless feeling resurfaced. “I don’t know what to think right now.”
“Honestly, I don’t either. But I can’t pretend to comprehend what he’s going through.”
“No one can, but I know closing himself off isn’t going to help.”
“I agree, but there’s not much we can do. Sloane can be pretty stubborn.”
Yeah, well so could I.
****
Sloane
By day two of being awake, I was so fucking bored. Everything on television was in German, so I couldn’t understand it. I didn’t have access to the internet. And the only thing around to read were trashy gossip magazines from the waiting room.
Lina walked into my room wearing a bright smile with her hands behind her back.
“I’ve got something for you,” she singsonged.
“I hope it’s drugs,” I grumbled.
Her gaze went to the clock on the wall. “You’ve got another twenty minutes before I can give you your next dose. But I think this will help keep your mind busy.”
I’ll admit, I was curious, so I took the bait.
“What is it?”
She brought her hand to her front, and I noticed she was holding a box.
“We’ve been keeping these for you.”
Then she tilted the box so I could see what was inside.
Stacks of pink envelopes.
My heart beat faster. Fortunately, the sound on the machine monitoring my heartrate had been shut off, but I was sure if Lina looked at the display, she’d notice.
As she set the box down on the table next to me, a sense of dread filled my stomach like a lead balloon.
Lina picked up an envelope and pointed to the corner.
“She writes the date in the corner, so we were able to put them in order for you.” She took a deep breath through her nose, closed her eyes, and smiled. “And they smell so good.”
I remembered. I remembered everything about her, and it fucking hurt.
Lina tilted her head when I didn’t dive into the box immediately. Instead, I stared at it like the envelopes were poisonous and made no attempt to sift through the contents.
“Do you want me to open one for you?”
I slowly shook my head and almost told her to take them away, but I couldn’t bring myself to. Not yet.
The nurse took a step back and said, “Well, I’ll leave you alone. Let me know if you need help.”
Glancing inside I saw dozens of pink envelopes and thought back to how excited I would get to receive her letters. Now they seemed to be mocking me. The bright color signifying a life no longer available to me.
I know Lina was surprised at my lack of enthusiasm, but what would be the point in reading the letters inside? The man Ashley had been writing to was gone.
Still, it would be nice to smell her one more time.
With trepidation, I plucked out the envelope on the end and brought it to my nose, prepared to be taken back to when I held her in my arms.
Instead, I smelled… nothing. Not even a faint odor of her perfume.
What the hell?
Had I grabbed one from the wrong end? Flipping it over, I looked at the date written in the corner. It said ‘January 5 th ’. I then pulled one from the other end. It read ‘November 30 th .’
November thirtieth. Her birthday.
I hoped she got the roses I sent. And the coffee maker.
Curiosity got the better of me, and I held the envelope in my teeth while slipping my right index finger under the flap and ripping it open.
Her perfect penmanship leapt off the page, and I was taken back to happier times.
Dear Sloane,
I’m praying this letter finds you safe and comfortable.
I couldn’t help but smile at the familiar opening sentence.
Thank you so much for the roses! They are so beautiful and smell amazing! You made me feel so special, remembering my birthday .
Like I’d fucking forget her birthday.
And are you serious with the amazing coffee maker?!? I love it so much! I’m going to save so much time and money not stopping at Starbucks every morning. Thank you, thank you, thank you! (I can’t wait to show you in person how grateful I am.)
She included a winking face.
Despair washed over me at the realization I’d never hold her again. Frankly, I wasn’t worthy of having her in my arms. She deserved a man far better than me.
I folded the pages as best I could and tossed them back into the box without reading the rest. I didn’t need to torture myself anymore.
Lina walked in holding a syringe, and I gestured to the box. “Could you put that somewhere?”
“Sure. Just let me administer your pain meds first.”
I felt the morphine’s effects as it dulled the pain in my limbs. Maybe the drug could ease the ache of the giant hole in my heart.
Food service arrived before Lina left. They were feeding me six times a day, citing my body needed a large amount of calories because it was working so hard to heal.
“I’ve got pizza,” the young dietary aide announced as he wiped down the table Lina had just removed the box of letters from.
“Great,” I said flatly.
He took the lid off the tray and slid it in front of me. The food actually looked good, but I realized I couldn’t smell it. Just like I couldn’t smell Ashley’s perfume on her letters.
I looked over at Lina holding the box.
“Is it normal that I can’t smell anything?”
Her eyebrows went up, and she nodded toward the food. “You can’t smell that?”
“No. And I couldn’t smell the letters either.”
“Oh.” She adjusted the box on her hip and said, “Yes, it’s normal. I’m glad you realized it so quickly. Can you taste anything?”
I took a bite of pizza and chewed thoughtfully.
“Yeah, but it tastes different. I guess I just chalked it up to being foreign food.”
“No. Without your sense of smell, your taste buds can only detect a few flavors.”
“Makes sense.”
I didn’t take another bite, and Lina said, “It’s probably going to affect your appetite. But even if you don’t feel like eating, it’s important that you do, otherwise I’ll have to put a feeding tube in you again.”
That was the last damn thing I wanted.
“Is this permanent?”
“Not usually. Most patients who’ve suffered burns like yours regain their sense of smell within a year after sustaining the injury.”
Great. Even comfort food wouldn’t work for me.
But then again, did I even deserve comfort food?