Chapter 7
Insufferable didn’t come close. Insufferable was the pebble digging into your heel, the itch you couldn’t reach to scratch. Insufferable was getting stuck in rush hour traffic with a full bladder and no exit in sight.
Gage’s behavior transcended insufferable.
Entering the hospital’s lobby, I willed my anger to subside, my pulse to slow. If one good thing had come from our argument, it happened to be that I wasn’t sitting at home waiting for him to snap his fingers so I could drop to my knees.
I’d walked out of his office of my own free will, and though part of me dreaded the eventual price I’d pay—taken from my flesh with each agonizing strike of whatever implement he chose—mouthing off to him had been…liberating.
I punched the button for the tenth floor and waited for the arrival of the elevator. Standing up to him had sparked something alive inside me. The woman I used to be, if only for a blip in the grand scheme of things. Being bad hadn’t felt this good in such a long time.
I stepped into the elevator and found myself alone until the seventh floor. As the doors slid open, a chill traveled down my spine. I almost expected to find Ian waiting on the other side, just like the other day.
But Ian wasn’t there. Two doctors entered, mid-conversation.
I tuned out their talk of cancer stages and grades, research, and cutting-edge treatments.
Each time I entered this wing, the past threatened to punch through the walls I’d built to protect myself.
The memories were never far, and sometimes they crept up on me to bind around my chest until I could hardly breathe.
And that’s why coming back to this place was good for me, no matter how difficult.
No matter how the antiseptic smell took me back each and every time to the utter despair of Eve’s illness.
To the hopelessness of watching her become sicker and sicker.
To the desperation that had spurred me on to embezzle thousands of dollars from Gage.
If I hadn’t stolen the money, he would have never caught me in the act, would have never blackmailed me into loving his sadistic ass. But the most important takeaway from that tumultuous decision was Eve; without my thievery, he would have never moved obstacles to get the care she needed.
The elevator arrived on the children’s floor.
I stepped out and made my way toward the circular nurse station that served as a hub for activity.
A rainbow mural decorated the walls, and the counters of the center island were a mix of complimentary sky blue and shades of gold.
The nurses had proudly displayed artwork from some of the children above and below the rainbow.
Compared to the rest of the hospital, this floor had the vibe of warmth and innocence.
I spotted Simone immediately. She glanced up from a chart, her reading glasses perched on her dainty nose.
“Emma’s been asking for you,” she said, tucking a stray blond hair behind her ear.
“Is she awake?”
“Yeah, but she started another round of chemo yesterday, so her spirits are a little low. I’m sure a visit from you will cheer her up.”
As I wrung my hands, Simone marked something on a chart, shelved it, then studied me with an assessing eye. “Is everything okay? You seem upset.”
“It’s nothing. I don’t want to get into it right now.”
She crossed her arms. “What’d he do this time?”
I blinked, despising the sting in my eyes. My problems were a speck compared the issues these kids faced every day on this floor.
“Hey,” Simone said, her voice softening. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“It’s not you.” I avoided her gaze and forced myself to pull it together. “Gage and I had an argument. I don’t have the energy to talk about it right now, so I’m gonna see if Emma’s up for a story.”
“That girl is always up for your stories.” She squeezed my shoulder. “Let’s meet for lunch sometime this week, okay?”
I nodded then headed down the hall, making a stop at the hand-washing station before stepping into Emma’s room. Flowers and stuffed animals covered most of the surfaces, and her mother had brought photos of her siblings from home. I tiptoed to the side of her bed and sank into a chair.
Her lashes fluttered and opened, revealing two brown eyes.
A weak smile painted her lips—the only feature brightening her face because she was pale otherwise.
But nowhere near lifeless. Not yet. This little girl was a fighter, and she reminded me so much of Eve that coming here was more difficult each time I walked through the door.
Yet I also found it therapeutic in some ways. Bringing a smile to her precious face was my biggest reward.
I picked up the Cat in the Hat from her bedside table. “You wanted me to read this one to you next, right?”
She nodded and settled against her pillow. I turned the first page and started reading the story of odd cats and rhymes. After a while, my voice blended with the din of the hospital; the continuous beeping, intercoms, and feet padding down the halls. It was all so achingly familiar.
After a while, Emma’s eyelids drooped, but I sensed she was still listening.
I read page after page, each word an octave above a whisper.
I wasn’t sure how long I sat there, content to give her comfort through mere words.
Probably no more than twenty minutes, but it felt like an hour.
I closed the book and carefully placed it back on the table.
Emma’s chest rose and fell in steady cycles, her breathing deep and even, indicating she’d succumbed to sleep.
A tingle traveled through my extremities, and that’s when I noticed Ian standing in the doorway. My heart skipped, jumpstarted by the sensation of deja vu.
“You’re a natural,” he said.
“I wish I could do more for her.”
“You’re here. That’s all you can do, Kayla, and it’s enough. More than enough.”
I rose and tiptoed across the room, careful not to rouse Emma from her slumber. “What are you doing here?”
“Can we talk for a second?” He nodded toward the hall, and I vacillated between returning to Emma’s side, and allowing him to usher me from the room.
The latter prevailed.
I followed him down the hall a few feet, out of earshot of little ears.
“You didn’t meet me for lunch,” he said.
“I wasn’t planning to meet you. I’m just as married today as I was Saturday.”
“Normally, that would matter to me.”
A doctor approached, and I stepped toward Ian, lowering my voice. “Well, it matters to me.”
He brushed his fingers against my cheek. “Do you really want to do this here?”
His touch careened through my system, forbidden and unwanted, but I couldn’t displace the familiar longing he’d sparked in me for years. That ember was a shameful entity flaring inside me.
“Why are you doing this?” As I stumbled back, my sneakers squeaked on the linoleum.
He folded my hand in his and refused to let go.
“Come with me?” he asked, though he didn’t leave me much choice unless I wanted to risk causing a scene, which I didn’t.
He pulled me down the hall toward the elevator.
I swallowed with a hard gulp, my protests catching in the vise of my constricting throat.
The silence between us grew heavy as we traveled the distance of ten floors.
The elevator halted at the bottom, and the doors slid open to reveal the busy lobby.
Ian led me past the receptionist and through a double door.
We journeyed through a maze of corridors before coming to a halt.
He’d switched offices since the last time we’d spoken within the privacy of his workspace.
As he shuffled through his keys, I questioned how I’d ended up here.
Entering that room was a bad idea, yet my feet had no intention of doing the sensible thing by turning around and navigating the labyrinth of the hospital.
My stubborn feet suddenly had a mind of their own, planting me in a precarious situation I didn’t want to be in.
He reached for the knob, key shaking in his hand, and missed the keyhole three times before managing to unlock the door.
He motioned for me to enter. A small window allowed dreary light in, obscured by the shitty weather.
A mixture of paperwork, folders, cups, and office supplies cluttered his desk, which was at odds with his tidy personality.
Ian not only closed the door, but he locked it, and he didn’t bother turning on a light. I backed up a step, hating how he stood between me and the exit.
“What do you want?” I asked, folding my arms. Maybe it was true—curiosity did kill the cat.
I was fucking roadkill then.
“What do you think I want?”
I had no answer. None that I liked, anyway.
“Sit down. I just want to talk.” He took me by the elbow and ushered me to the small sofa tucked against one wall. Taken completely off guard, I plopped onto it as he claimed the cushion next to me.
“How is Eve?”
“She’s great.”
“How are you?” He devoured me with eager, hungry eyes. Despite the low light casting us in shadow, I still clearly saw that he didn’t just want to talk. He wanted something he couldn’t have.
“I’m great. Everything’s great.”
“One big happy family, huh? He hasn’t started abusing Eve yet?”
Blistering anger roared through my veins. I moved to stand, but his forearm blocked me.
“It’s a valid question, Kayla.”
I slapped his arm away. “No, it’s not. Do you think I’d allow anyone to hurt my daughter?”
“No, but I never saw you for a doormat either. I never thought you’d go through with the wedding.”
I gritted my teeth. “You’re about a year too late to question my decisions.”
“Better late than never.” He leaned in, caging me between his body and the sofa. “You fucked up, Kayla. You let that fucking bastard abuse you. But the real kicker is how you let him near Eve. What the hell is wrong with you?”
I wanted to throw the question back at him, but I couldn’t find my voice. His confrontational tone stunned me.