35. Ryder
Bad Habits - NERV
The waiting room is eerily quiet. I usually wouldn’t wait in such an open space, but I need to make sure we don’t draw too much attention. The fluorescent lights hum, taunting me, but it’s better than being left alone with my thoughts.
“Here you go, Boss,” Ronnie hands me a cup of coffee and sits to my right. Next to him is a bulletproof vest. Ronnie – always looking out for me.
I lean back and balance the plastic cup on my knee with a finger on top. “I want to know who called these orders,” I stared straight ahead. I noticed the gauze over Ronnie’s nose and knew that was my doing. Ruthlessly hacking up an enemy could bring such satisfaction, but knowing I smashed in his face when he was following my orders made me feel a hint of guilt.
“We’re already on it, Boss. Looks like it may be the Russians.” He seems unphased. Like I said, broken noses aren’t uncommon in our industry. “The Russian made it out of the warehouse and he may be making another attempt to get to you through her. But I have to dig deeper,” he stares forward pensively.
“I want them taken to the basement. The men can rough them up but I want them alive. Find out who the Russian is reporting to. He’s not smart enough to be the head of this operation.” I’m sure IT is the mastermind responsible for all of this.
Ronnie nods with acknowledgment and stands to leave. The adrenalin begins to leave me and I can feel my eyes become heavy.
* * *
The doctor clears his throat waking me. As I try to regain myself with my mind foggy, he takes a seat next to me and places his hand on my shoulder, almost bracing me for the worst.
“Your wife had a successful surgery Mr. Totaro, but her recovery is going to be longer due to her condition.”
She’s going to be OK.
“What condition? Is she pregnant? Did the bullet hit a lung?” I stand and wave dismissively to hurry him along. I just need to see my wife.
“No, the cancer, sir,” He says as if to remind me. “She will need to be handled very carefully. We were able to give her a transfusion, but she will be in critical care for the next couple of days before we can let you take her home…”
His words hit with the same force of the bullet that struck my little sparrow and I stared down at the vests Ronnie left me as if they could somehow lessen the blow. The doctor’s voice sounds loud but muffled as he continues without realizing that I’ve completely stopped listening.
Cancer?
I step back trying to hide my reaction knowing that I can’t possibly let anyone know that my wife has kept such a critical piece of information to herself.
I’ll see her and she will clarify. This must be a mistake. My wife is twenty-three, vibrant, small but fierce. Her hair, she has it all. Her body, full of fucking sunshine. Her eyes are always full of such life and fire. It all replays in my mind at once. The glimpses of fear, the wall she was so reluctant to let down, the bruises. She exposed it all to me but I was oblivious to what was right in front of me all along. Is this the secret her eyes have been hiding all of this time?
“You can see her now,” he gently urges by pointing toward the door.
I don’t know if I’m happy that she is alive, or if I’m devastated that I won’t be able to protect her from the one thing that is killing her. Maybe I’ve reached a new level of fury that my body isn’t capable of registering at the moment. I instinctively want to run to her side but each of my feet is weighed like bricks dragging through mud as I dread hearing any truth to what the doctor just told me.
I stop at the end of the hall and look into the room at my wife. The florescent lights try to hinder her beauty but her red lips and warm honey hair radiate strength. The machine next to her beeps and the nurse who is refilling her IV looks up at me with hopeful eyes.
“Your wife is a fighter, Mr. Totaro,” she smiles as she walks past me out of the room. You have no idea.
I hesitate before stepping into the room acknowledging now that the emotion I am feeling is rage - at her for not telling me - for me being so blind to accuse her of unfaithfulness and spying while she suffered in silence. God, am I a bastard or what? There is still a chance that this is a mistake. I won’t know until she tells me.
Gravity pulls me to her like it always does, perhaps even more so now than ever. But I don’t know if the parts of me that are only holding together with scotch and nicotine will be able to withstand the blow of a truth that doesn’t include her living the rest of my life with me.
She feels my presence and stirs in the bed shifting her eyes to mine. I stop where I am, leaning against the door frame. She’s terrified. She knows I know. It’s true.
I have about three seconds to decide how I want to spend the rest of our time together. However much that is, I’m not sure yet, but I’m sure she is well aware.
Self-preservation used to be one of my stronger characteristics, but Devina seems to see right through me. Fortunately, this was a mirrored experience and there we stand, exposed to the elements of truth, tragically transparent.