Chapter 41 Ripley
Ripley
Sleep comes in fitful bursts, never allowing me to fully rest. I give up eventually.
A beat of silence, then another, so long in the dark space filled only by the glow of my buzzing hospital machines.
Any minute now, they’re going to alert the staff of my broken heart, the beats dipping lower until there’s nothing left.
Stupid, stupid heart.
Breathing is impossible. The weight of gravity is too much to bear in my fragile state. I stare at the drop ceiling, holding back my useless tears. The burning in my chest is from more than the slices in my stomach where they pulled out an organ. It feels like something else is being ripped out.
I knew better. God, I knew love only ever hurts you.
The ones you think might love and be with you forever just up and leave at the slightest inconvenience.
Garrick told me himself that love was a fraud, and I agreed.
Why, why, why couldn’t my heart remember that?
My place was behind the camera. I should have stayed in my lane.
Instead, I jumped headfirst into oblivion and I let myself get hit by a truck.
Mom stirs in her makeshift bed but doesn’t wake. If she does, at least I can pretend the crying is from the surgery.
When the nurse comes in a few minutes later and asks if I need more pain meds, I tell her yes, because the silent crying has taken its toll on my already broken body. She changes the date on the whiteboard hung on the wall – 31 December.
Happy New Year’s Eve to me.
Having an appendectomy is about as fun as it is easy to spell.
I get out late in the afternoon on the 31st, having spent just over twenty-four hours in the hospital.
Luckily, I had a laparoscopy procedure because my appendix hadn’t fully burst. If I had, I would’ve been in the hospital for a few days.
As depressing as it sounds, I kind of wish that I was still there.
While I only had my thoughts and a TV with limited cable options, at least there were things to distract me, like a nurse coming in to check on me and the beeps of the hospital machine.
Everyone was focused on my recovery and me being able enough to go home.
There were checklists and timetables to fill in – my favorite pastime.
I could almost, almost, forget about the fairytale theme park in the distance and the knight who broke my heart.
When I first woke up groggy mid-morning, I thought I’d dreamt it all.
Some nightmare induced by the anesthesia and pain meds.
But then I saw the empty chair and the Garrick-shaped hole that was left.
It wasn’t a nightmare – or it was, but the real flesh-and-blood kind.
‘Are you buckled in all right?’ Mom keeps glancing at me from the driver’s side as I lean back in my seat, arm slung over my eyes to block the sun. My crappy night’s sleep is making my vision sensitive to the light.
‘Yes, you checked four times before we drove away from the hospital.’ I should be annoyed with the helicopter parenting, but it’s actually sweet.
Mom hasn’t left my side since I returned from surgery.
This is more attention than I’ve ever received, and it was oddly nice despite the circumstances – not that I want to replicate this experience.
‘Just checking. I’m sorry about the bumpy roads,’ she adds as we go over a particularly aggressive pothole.
I cringe, pain spasming across my jaw as I grind my teeth.
‘Remind me when we get home to contact the city. Honestly, I don’t know what I’m paying taxes for if even the roads near the hospital are torn up.
’ Her exasperated tone covers the worry pretty well.
But I saw the look on her face when I came to in the ambulance, the way she bit her thumbnail as we waited for test results – she was scared.
Mom is always so sure of herself it was disconcerting to see this other side.
‘Thanks, Mom. For taking care of me.’ I squeeze her hand. ‘Sorry for ruining the show.’
‘Juliet, you have nothing to apologize for. I’m just so glad there was an EMT there. I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you. I love you, Juliet. I know I probably don’t say it nearly enough, but you girls are my world.’
A lump fills my throat. ‘I love you too, Mom.’
By the time I’m shuttled from the car, hunched over because standing straight sends a burning through my incisions, and deposit myself on the couch with the fluffiest blanket Mom could find, I’m exhausted.
I don’t want to do anything other than study the backs of my eyelids.
I couldn’t care less that it’s New Year’s Eve.
I manage a quick video call with Melika and Nathan as proof of life.
But I’m not up for much more than that. After I’ve been fed and watered, given my tablet and several books to choose from, Mom’s back to work mode.
She didn’t go to the set today, so she needs to catch up on the footage and preview the episode post for the day.
But she insists on staying in the house in case I develop sepsis or need ice cream.
Since Mom is now preoccupied, Anna comes over to take care of me, bringing a large bag of french fries and chocolate chip cookies.
Shockingly, her husband is actually home for a change, and he’s watching Molly.
Anna doesn’t seem that bothered that Mike isn’t here.
In fact, she seems glad that he’s someplace else. Once again, love bites the big one.
Anna gives me a card Molly made with crayons and construction paper, telling me to get well soon. Or at least I assume that’s what it’s supposed to say. It’s hard to tell past the stickers and glitter.
This year, it will be an old-school New Year’s Eve with Anna and me.
We watch the countdown clock out of New York.
Not that New Year’s is ever a major thing for me, but I’m pretty sure I won’t make it till midnight.
It hurts to move and talk; depending on the angle, even breathing makes me wince.
The bandage around my abdomen keeps me from seeing the extent of the scar.
Supposedly, it won’t be bad. I’ll have to do some research on scar treatment when I’m feeling less like a living corpse.
Resting my head on the mountain of pillows, I let the whims of consciousness take me where they desire, which is annoyingly to FTG and the Beeloved show.
I know there was another elimination earlier today – I got updates on the set from Melika and Nathan before I told them I didn’t want them any more.
Every letter was another stab to my already tender chest. I didn’t have the heart to tell them that Garrick and I broke up.
Or maybe I just didn’t want to see the words made forever permanent in text.
Can I even call it breaking up when we weren’t officially together? We were just two people kissing, and now we aren’t any more.
That’s a lie. It was more than just kissing. I opened myself up to another person in a way I’ve only been able to do with my closest friends. Letting him see my heart, with all its imperfections – and him doing the same.
I’m glad I can use the excuse of being post-surgery so I don’t have to go to the New Year’s Eve party my friends have been telling me about for weeks. I’m content with Anna sleeping on the couch, and me drifting in and out as my pain medication kicks in.
Of course, Melika and Nathan said they would come join me, but I didn’t want to ruin their New Year’s Eve. I know they would’ve been right at my side, snacks in hand, if I asked. And I love that about them. But I’m not up for company right now.
There’s no post-surgery treat that can fix the wound left from the knight who stole my heart and then threw it away.
But I can only blame him so far. We both stated from the beginning that we didn’t believe in true love – that relationships only end in heartache.
We were so smart. How did we both end up in this place?
‘Is it time for more meds?’ Anna says, rubbing hair from her face. ‘Are you in pain?’
I blink, feeling wetness on my eyelashes, tears having escaped the prison I thought I had secured them in. ‘No.’
Anna’s lips twist as she snuggles down into the blanket with me. ‘It’s the prince, isn’t it?’
I don’t bother correcting that he’s a knight. ‘How did you know?’
‘Well, for one, from what I’ve seen of him, I bet he would’ve been here with about a dozen party games to keep you entertained. And two, I know that look of heartbreak in your eyes well.’
The tears I tried so hard not to cry, because they would mean I fell for love like all the other chumps out there, come flowing out. ‘I’m so stupid. I knew better. I shouldn’t have let this happen.’
‘Oh, Rip.’ Anna pulls me into a hug, careful of my stitches.
‘Love is a sneaky bastard. You don’t have a choice in the matter – as much as we like to pretend.
I always knew when you fell, you were going to fall hard.
Because that’s what you do. You aren’t a halfway kind of person. You put all you have into everything.’
‘I hate it.’ I don’t bother to wipe away the wetness coating my pillow. ‘It feels like it’ll never go away.’
She pauses for a minute, staring at the fireworks on the TV. ‘Sometimes it doesn’t. But the heartache can be a reminder.’
‘Of?’
‘Of how good it can feel. What’s the saying? It’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.’
I didn’t love Garrick Walton. Maybe I could have, given enough time.
But right now, I wish I had never known what these emotions felt like.
Because the shell of it, the broken, jagged pieces left behind, are bitter in my mouth.
The saying should be, ‘It’s better to live in ignorant bliss than to be left with this feeling for the rest of your life. ’
But ignorance was never my way. I have to know everything down to the finest detail. My brain is full of all the knowledge I’ve gathered over the years. And the pain of this will be etched in my skin until the end of my days.