Chapter 23
Chapter twenty-three
ABBY: Even with a crack in my skull, I still somehow know that you are sitting in the hospital waiting room in the middle of the night worrying instead of going home like you were supposed to.
NAOMI: Your mom told us all to go home and get some sleep. But how can I when you’re in the hospital with a serious injury because of me!
ABBY: I think you’re rewriting the facts a little. I am in the hospital with a skull fracture that only requires one night of observation. Because of Simon.
NAOMI: Okay fine. But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re hurt because he was coming after me.
I don’t care about what happened—in some ways, I’m glad it did.
Anything less than a literal smoking gun and he would have gotten away with it again.
But he didn’t and I was FINALLY able to make sure that he didn’t.
But I will never be okay with the fact that you got hurt in the process.
ABBY: Girl, I’ve broken my pinky toe tripping on the curb merely getting out of the car, torn my ACL trying to catch a train to go get my eyebrows waxed, and gotten a black eye from a rogue tennis ball when I wasn’t even playing tennis.
I have been injured in so many stupid ways that have no meaning or purpose.
I would, any day of the week, choose to have an injury that stood for bravery and friendship and healing and finally getting to—legally—hit Simon as hard as I possibly could.
There’s also a chance if I hadn’t been there, you wouldn’t have made it out alive.
A night in a hospital seems like a fair trade for all of that.
NAOMI: Abby, I swear, only you could turn a nightmare into a badge of honor and make me laugh while you’re at it. Seriously, thank you for being the most amazing friend ever.
ABBY: I will accept 51% of that compliment.
I might be the majority shareholder of the compliment, but the other 49% goes to you.
From the first day we met you showed me what it was to be a good friend and I’ve spent most of my life trying to emulate you.
So, if you think I’m a good friend, then you’re really talking about yourself too.
NAOMI: It’s still hard to feel like a good friend. Even before you got hurt, I was feeling terrible because I know something’s been going on with you and I was too caught up in my own stuff to find time to ask.
ABBY: What do you mean?
NAOMI: I think you can picture the look on my face right now.
ABBY: I can. I see your dubious eyebrow lift and I raise you two wide eyes of innocence.
NAOMI: Please, Abby. I know something has been going on, that you’ve been hurting, and you’ve been hiding it from me. Trying to hide it from me, I should say.
ABBY: Fine. If I tell you, will you go to sleep?
NAOMI: If you tell me, I will attempt to go to sleep. I can make no promises that I will actually fall asleep.
ABBY: At your parent’s house in Michigan. Riley was right about me.
NAOMI: Being in love?
ABBY: Of course you knew exactly what I meant.
But yeah. I mean, no, not in love. But I was seeing someone for a hot second. And I do mean hot. Both short and intense. And then … it was over. Mutual. Sort of. I could only live in the shadow of their career and that was never going to work for me. But I’m fine.
NAOMI: Imagine the face again.
ABBY: I am! Seriously, I swear I’m okay. I have good days and bad days, but it’s nothing that won’t pass. And hey, here’s some silver lining. Simon finally did something nice for me and took my mind off the whole thing.
NAOMI: I see your attempts at using humor to deflect and I raise you an “I will be getting the whole story out of you eventually.”
ABBY: That’s really the only part of poker that I know. I have no idea how to counter a raise.
NAOMI: Same.
ABBY: I think that means it’s time for us to sleep.
NAOMI: I guess you’re right. Thanks for telling me. And for … everything.
ABBY: Goodnight Naomi. Love you.
NAOMI: Love you too.
Naomi woke from a brief and uncomfortable rest in the waiting room chair. Her vision was bleary, so it took her a few moments to recognize that the blob of color to her right was Will, and two seats down from him was Becca, both asleep.
“Coffee?”
She glanced to the left, where Riley was seated next to her, holding out a nondescript cafeteria cup between their hands.
After a draining marathon of giving their statements to an endless parade of officers, Abby’s mom had gently suggested they all head home to catch some much-needed rest, especially since visiting hours had ended and Abby’s injuries, thankfully, weren’t critical.
Yet, as they all rose to leave, no one took a step towards the door.
Instead, they all stood, feet rooted to the floor, and exchanged glances.
Finally, Naomi broke the silence. “I think I’m going to stay,” she said, before adding. “You all should go, but I need to be here.”
She didn’t even get to finish her sentence before everyone returned to their seats. Over a dinner of mystery hospital food, they watched late-night reruns of The Love Boat on a mounted television that seemed nearly as vintage as the show they were watching until, at some point, they all dozed off.
“Thank you,” Naomi said, rubbing the ache in her neck from the variety of strange positions she’d slept in with one hand and accepting the coffee in the other.
Over Riley’s shoulder, she could see Your Chicago, a local morning news program, on the television.
Although the sound was off, she didn’t need subtitles to know what they were talking about.
Images of her apartment and Simon being loaded onto an ambulance under police escort were flashing across the screen.
The clock at the edge of the news ticker told her it was a little after six in the morning.
She looked back at Riley. “Did you get any sleep last night?”
Riley smirked. “Not really. I went to see if I could get a charger for my phone and ended up getting, shall we say, a private check-up with Nurse Michael. Wait, no, Micah. Mateo. Anyway, I didn’t get any rest. Or a charger for that matter. My phone and I are going to crash hard later today.”
“Bravo, Riley,” Becca said, her voice heavy with sleep.
Naomi turned to see Becca pulling herself up to seated and yawning.
“And thank you for the role-play inspiration. We’ve done doctor and patient before.
But comforting a loved one grieving in the halls of the hospital gives it a whole new erotic twist.” She made a purring noise in her throat.
“Well, that’s certainly one way to get woken up.” Will sat up.
“You’re welcome,” Becca said. “Riley, if we don’t start a podcast, maybe we can create an alarm clock app that wakes you up with sexy talk and sounds.”
“Talk about morning wood,” Riley said.
“Ooh, perfect name for it too.”
“Okay then.” Will stood up and stretched, trying to work out the same kinks Naomi had been battling a few minutes ago.
“Coffee?” Riley asked, procuring two more cups from a side table.
“Thank you,” Will said gratefully, taking one. “Any word on Abby? I assume no news is good news?” he asked, turning to look at her.
“I texted with Abby briefly last night,” Naomi replied. “Seems like she’s doing okay.”
He dropped back down into his seat beside her. “So … then is our plan still the same?”
Naomi slipped her hand in his and squeezed. “Exactly the same.”
Will squeezed back. “Only a few more hours, then.”