Chapter 29
Chapter
Twenty-Nine
I buried my face in my pillow, my heart pounding so hard I could feel it in my temples. Not surprisingly, I slept like absolute shit. After I refolded the letter and licked the envelope to make it stuck again, I set it back in place on the countertop. Then I tossed and turned all night.
Now it was past ten in the morning. My palms were clammy, and I smelled like stress sweat.
Think.
Why had I done it? Why had I read the letter early? How was I going to look Rob in the eye and pretend I didn’t know . . . everything?
"Sharla, you good?" Rob's voice filtered through the door. I could picture him standing there, leaning against the doorframe in the T-shirt I forced him to wear. My stomach did a somersault, and I had a sudden urge to throw the door open and confess everything.
But I couldn't.
We were still going to be alone together for another week and a half. My mind raced, grasping for an excuse. "Uh, yeah, I'm fine!" I croaked, making my voice sound as weak as possible. "Just not feeling well."
"Not feeling well?" Rob sounded concerned. Of course he did. Because he loved me.
"Yeah, I think I caught something." I coughed for good measure, hoping it didn't sound too forced. "I don't want you to get sick. You should probably stay away."
The floorboards creaked as he shifted his weight. "Do you need anything? I can run to the store or?—"
"No, no! I'm good." I bit my lip, trying to think of something to make my excuse more convincing. "I just need to rest."
There was a pause. "You sure you don't want me to bring you something? I make a mean cup of tea."
I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes. What was I going to do, sit in here all day and starve? My stomach was already grumbling. "As tempting as that sounds, I don't want to be responsible for your untimely demise if this is something contagious."
Rob chuckled, and I felt a pang of guilt. I was lying to him. I was lying to Logan. "Alright, well, if you change your mind, let me know. I have a conditioning practice this morning, then I'm heading to work later."
I exhaled with relief. All I had to do was wait until he left, then I could eat and get cleaned up. Probably change my sheets. Ugh, what a mess!
Wait, what day was it?
I scrambled up from the bed and checked my desktop calendar. The eighteenth. That meant Crystal was home from her ski trip. Not home, home, but with her family in Calgary. I searched for my address book.
Yes. I had her home number.
I sat next to the door, listening to Rob move around the house. When I heard the front door close, I exhaled. I had a few hours to figure out my next move. I waited five minutes, then peeked out into the hall. I crept forward, scanning for his hockey bag.
Gone.
I ran to the kitchen and ate a banana and yogurt, then showered and put on my robe. The sheets could wait until later when I sequestered myself away again.
With my hair still damp, I picked up the phone and dialled. After briefly talking with Crystal’s dad, her voice came on the line. "Hey! I’m so glad you called! How are you?"
“Umm, good?”
Crystal paused. “Here, just a sec.” She set down the receiver, and I heard her yell, “Dad, when I get downstairs, can you hang this one up?” A few moments later she came back on the line and yelled upstairs. There was an audible click. “Okay. Spill.”
I couldn’t hold back the tide of verbal diarrhea. I told her everything. About the water bottles, the pancakes, about Logan’s disappointing emails and phone calls. I told her about my mom and my cousin, and the fact that I was still here on campus.
Then I told her about my email to Logan, how I still hadn’t heard back, and lastly I dropped the bomb.
The letter from Rob.
When I finished, Crystal was silent.
“I know,” I groaned. “What do I do?”
She exhaled. “I mean, I’m not surprised.”
“By which part?”
I could practically hear her eyes roll. “Did you not see how he looked at you when you were dancing at that party? Or the way he’s always performing for you at Ranchmans?”
I blinked. “What?”
“Shit, Shar. He’s always right in front of you. Messing with Logan. Trying to get your attention. You’ve never noticed?”
My mouth went dry. “He likes messing with Logan.”
“Yeah. Because you’re there.”
“I—”
“Trust me, I’ve been to Ranchmans when you couldn’t come. He’s completely different.”
I sank to the floor, resting my head against the cabinets.
“You should come stay with me for Christmas,” Crystal said. “Seriously. The second he sees you, he’s going to know you read it.”
I scoffed. “I have a couple of hours to pull myself together.”
“Shar. You’re a terrible liar. You’re going to get all weird. All happy and creepy.”
I laughed. “I am not!”
“That’s how you always get. That one time when you lied about missing rehearsal?”
“Franck believed me.”
“No, babe. She didn’t. She let you off because she likes you.”
I spluttered. “Franck doesn’t like anyone.”
“Okay, whatever, but seriously. You should pack your bag and take a taxi over. Or I can borrow my dad’s car and come pick you up.”
I chewed on my lower lip.
“Crystal! We’re going for lunch!” a voice called in the background.
“Got it!” she shouted back. “I have to go.”
I nodded. “Kay. I’ll phone you later.”
“Think about it.”
I sighed. “I will.” I stood and replaced the receiver, but the phone immediately started ringing. I tensed, thinking about the last time that happened. Logan.
There was no way he’d be calling from Europe, was there? My heart thudded as I picked up. “Hello?”
“Sharla, your dad had a little complication.” My mom’s voice. “They had to take him back to the hospital.”
My blood turned to ice. “What happened? Is he okay?” I started to pace.
“They were able to place the stent successfully, but there were some complications with his blood pressure. He went in last night.”
I pressed a hand to my temple, trying to make sense of her words. “Why didn’t you phone me sooner?”
“I didn’t want to worry you. I wanted to make sure everything was under control before I?—”
“Mom, this is Dad. I need to know what’s going on.” My voice was shaking. “Is he going to be okay?”
“Yes, he’s stable now, but they had to admit him. They’re keeping him for observation.”
“I’m coming.” I didn’t wait for her to respond before I hung up and dialled Rob’s pager number. Conditioning was typically only an hour, so he was probably finished by now.
I shook out my hair, running my fingers through it. It was getting longer, shaggier. I kind of liked it this way, too.
I jumped when the phone rang and scrambled to pick it up.
“Sharla? What’s going on?” Rob was out of breath.
My thoughts were a tangled mess, and I struggled to find the words. “My dad. He had a complication. They had to take him back to the hospital.”
Rob’s tone shifted. “Where is he? Do you need a ride?”
I didn’t want to inconvenience him. He told me he still had work today. “He’s at the hospital in Calgary.” At least it wasn’t all the way to Red Deer.
“I’m on my way.”
I hung up and went to my closet, grabbing the first clothes I could find. Rob walked in ten minutes later. He was already showered, so he dropped his gear, and we left the house together.
We drove to the hospital in silence. I stared out the window, my mind and heart completely numb. I paused when Rob parked the truck instead of dropping me at the front. “You don’t have to?—”
“Don’t. I’m coming with you.” Pressure built behind my eyes as I pushed my door open. Rob reached out and held my hand as I forced my feet to move, each step feeling like I was dragging my legs through molasses.
I didn’t pull back. It didn’t feel wrong. It felt like support, and I needed it.
Inside, the waiting room was a sea of sterile white walls and uncomfortable plastic chairs. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, and a TV mounted in the corner played a muted news broadcast.
I hated it there. The air was thick with the scent of antiseptic and sickness and dying. My dad shouldn’t be there so close to Christmas.
Rob and I walked up to the nurses' station, and a nurse with dark circles under her eyes and a name tag that read "Debbie" looked up from her computer. "Can I help you?"
"I'm here to see my dad. Norman Barnes."
Debbie's fingers flew over the keyboard. "Barnes, Barnes . . . Ah, here we are. Room 312. Just down the hall and to the left."
"Thank you." I forced a smile, then started off with Rob falling in step beside me.
As we walked, I couldn't help but notice the small details. The way the nurses' shoes squeaked on the floor, the soft hum of voices, the pattern on the linoleum tiles. It was all so clinical, so impersonal.
We passed a room with the door slightly ajar, and I caught a glimpse of an elderly woman lying in bed, her chest rising and falling with laboured breaths. A younger woman sat next to her, holding her hand and whispering something I couldn't make out. My heart clenched, and I looked away.
Finally, we reached room 312. I paused outside the door, my hand hovering over the handle.
Rob squeezed my hand, then dropped it. “I’ll wait out here.”
I nodded, then took a deep breath and pushed the door open.
My dad sat up in bed, his face pale but alert. He looked better than I’d expected, but the sight of the IV in his arm and the wires attached to his chest sent a shiver down my spine. My mom, sitting on a chair next to him, perked up as I entered.
"Hey, kiddo." His voice was raspy, but he managed a smile.
"Dad." I rushed to his side, not quite sure where to stand. "What happened?"
Dad shook his head. “Nothing, really. Just had to get a little medication.”
I laughed. Only he would describe staying overnight in the hospital as “nothing, really.” I turned to my mom. “What’s the truth?”
Her smile wobbled. “He's doing much better now, but they wanted to keep him for observation. He should be discharged in a few hours."
I nodded, my mind reeling. "So he's going to be okay?"
She nodded, her eyes glassy. I exhaled in relief. “Okay.”
Dad reached out and took my hand. "Thanks for coming."
I blinked back tears, trying to keep my emotions in check. "I just . . . I don't know what I would do if . . ."
He squeezed my hand. "Hey, none of that. I'm not going anywhere, okay?"
I nodded, but the lump in my throat wouldn't go away. I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my ears. "When I got the call this morning, for a second, I thought I would never get the chance to tell you." I took another breath, my chest tight. "I know you both love me and want what's best for me. And I know this isn’t probably what you want to talk about, but—” My voice caught. I stared down at the white sheets, and my dad squeezed my hand. Just like Rob had in the hall.
I lifted my head and drew a breath. “Back when I told you what happened with Eric . . . I felt like you didn't believe me. You didn't stand up for me, and that hurt. A lot." My voice wavered. “I know you think I should get over it, but I can’t. It happened, and as much as I want to be with you for Christmas, I can’t be there with him. I’m sorry if that hurt you.”
My mom fidgeted with a loose thread on her sweater, and my dad looked down at his hands. He shifted, the bed creaking under his weight.
I hated that they were uncomfortable, but I needed them to understand. My parents were good people. I knew that.
My dad cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, Sharla. We . . . I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to believe it. I wanted to protect you, but I didn't know how."
My mom nodded, her eyes glassy. "We never meant to make you feel like you were alone in that. We just couldn’t believe—" She paused, blinking fast. “You two seemed like such good friends. It didn’t make sense, but I did a little research.” She dropped her eyes. Twisting her hands in her lap. “It seems that’s common. And I’m sorry I didn’t know that.”
My mom had done research? I exhaled, feeling a weight lift off my chest. I knew they couldn't fully understand, but they'd heard me.
"Maybe we could come to Calgary and do gifts and go out for dinner on the twenty-fourth?" My mom’s voice was as tentative as a mouse poking its head out of a hole.
I nodded. She still wasn’t going to kick my cousins out, but this was something. "I think that sounds good."
My dad brightened at that. "I think that's a lovely idea." He reached out and took my mom's hand. They chatted about where we should go, and I listened, only half invested. I'd come down here and had the conversation I needed to have. The rest of it was just gravy.
My mom glanced at the clock. "You should get some rest. I know they're planning to discharge you, but you should still take it easy."
My dad waved her off. "I'm not an invalid. I'll be fine."
That was my cue. I leaned in to give him a hug. "I'm glad you're okay, Dad."
He squeezed my hand. "Me too, sweetheart. Me too."
I smiled at Mom, then with a round of “I love you”’s, exited to the hall. Rob pushed off the wall and followed me down the hallway and out of the hospital. When we got to the truck, I climbed in, and he started the engine. The warmth from the heater was a welcome change from the cold air outside, and I settled back against the seat.
Rob reached for the gear shift to pull out of the parking lot, and his hand brushed mine. My breath caught, and I jerked back, planting both of my hands firmly in my lap.
My heart hammered in my chest, and I stared straight ahead, focusing on the snowflakes swirling in the headlights. Rob didn’t look at me, but he didn’t move his hand either. It stayed right there on the console, begging to be held.
“How did it go?”
“Good. He’s being discharged soon.” I thought about telling him the rest, but the lines of his letter scrolled in my head. I love you. I’m in love with you.
This wasn’t fair to him. To keep sharing things with him, to keep drawing him closer when I was still with Logan. So I stayed silent.
We stepped inside, and I shut the door, the sound echoing in the silence of the house. I shrugged out of my coat, hung it on the hook by the door, and slipped out of my boots. Rob did the same.
I walked into the room and turned to him. “Thank you.”
He stood in front of the door. “You’re welcome.” He looked like he didn’t know what to do with his hands. “Do you want to get dinner? I don’t start work until?—”
“No.” I shook my head. “I mean, thanks, but no. I think I’m going to read or something.”
He nodded. “Okay.”
I turned to walk to my room.
“Did I do something wrong?” Rob asked.
I froze, my whole body starting to tingle. “No!” I answered too brightly, plastering a smile on my face. Weird Sharla. This was what Crystal was talking about, but I couldn’t stop it. “You just drove me to the hospital.”
He took a few steps into the room. “Yeah, you just seem . . . I don’t know. Mad or something.”
I scoffed. “I’m not mad.” He watched me unsmiling. “It’s just been a long day.”
Rob nodded. “Yeah. Seems like you’re feeling better?”
I blinked. Right. This morning. I told him I was sick. “Mmm, yep. Didn’t last long, thankfully.” My eyes dropped to the letter on the counter, and I swung them away, my heart thunderous.
Rob’s eyes narrowed. He walked forward, stopping at the island. When he reached out, I jumped.
“Don’t—!” I froze, my hand hovering over the card. I almost choked on my own spit.
“Don’t what?” Rob’s jaw tensed.
I pulled my hand back, shoving it in my pocket. “Not until New Year’s, right?” I squeaked.
Rob’s throat worked. “Right.” He dragged the card toward him and flipped it over. The “V” on the envelope fell open. His eyes flicked to mine, and my heart dropped to my feet.
I swallowed hard. “I’m sorry.”
Rob stared at the ripped envelope. "I asked you to wait."
I swallowed the lump in my throat. "I know. I couldn't."
Rob dropped the letter onto the countertop, running his hands through his hair. "Well, now what the hell am I supposed to do?" He turned away from me, bracing himself on the countertop.
"Rob, just?—"
He held up a hand, cutting me off. It felt like someone slammed a hammer into my sternum. I'd seen Rob pissed off before. I'd seen him annoyed. Frustrated. But this was something entirely different.
With his head hung low and his back expanding with rapid breaths, he looked broken, tortured. Every one of our memories together over the past month seemed to crumble away, turning to dust in my hands and slipping through my fingers.
"It's fine, really.” My voice shook as I tried to sweep it all up and compress it back into something solid.
"It's not fine.”
“We can just pretend I never saw it. We can go back to normal. It wouldn't be that hard."
If I was being honest, ever since that night in my room, I'd been lying to myself. I'd been ignoring the truth that was right in front of me. Of course, the possibility that Rob felt something for me had popped into my head.
Because I felt things for him.
It wasn't just physical attraction. I'd gotten good at rationalizing that away, at pretending it didn't exist, at finding a thousand other explanations for what happened inside of my body whenever he was close. And for the things he did that didn't make any sense, I could keep doing that for another couple of weeks. Until Logan got back, until Rob moved out.
I could barely draw a full breath. I didn't want him to be gone, and I didn't know if I wanted Logan to be back.
Rob turned to face me, crossing his arms over his chest. His fingertips pressed so deeply into his skin, the nails turned white. "I can't pretend. I can't go back."
"So what was your plan then? I would read this after you were gone, and you would just never see me again?"
He looked up. "Yeah, exactly." He stalked to the other side of the island, putting the full slab of granite between us.
"Rob, I'm at every game. I go to the after parties?—”
“We were pretty good at avoiding each other before."
I wet my lips. The lump in my throat was growing so big I thought I might asphyxiate. I threw out my hands. "So all of this is just gone?" I motioned at the Christmas decorations but I meant everything. The conversations we'd had, the things I'd shared with him, the things he knew about me that I hadn't told anyone else.
"Yeah." He nodded once and turned to his room, but I slapped my hand on the counter.
"Yeah? That's all you have to say?"
He froze but didn't turn back. "What else is there to say, Sharla?"
Tears stung my eyes. I love you. I’m in love with you. "There has to be some way?—"
He whirled. His eyes so dark they swallowed me up. "There's no other way. You're sleeping with my best friend, and you read the damn letter. I can't live like this anymore. I have to find some way to move on."
His words stung like a slap. I opened my mouth, then snapped it closed. He was right. He was exactly right. You’re sleeping with my best friend.
I was. I was with Logan. And here I was telling Rob I didn’t want to lose him.
Rob kept walking.
I flinched when the door slammed closed behind him.