Chapter Two #2
He was the same, yet transformed. The arms that used to be pencil-thin had filled out, wrapped now in swirling ink she wanted to sit down and dissect.
The gauges and the silver nose hoop were new.
The faded electric blue hair was not, still the same shade he’d dyed it in high school and apparently never looked back from.
His ripped jeans and the oversized shirt—some giant skeleton hand sprawled across the chest—were so thoroughly, specifically him that it was almost funny.
This was the Jay he’d always wanted to be: a walking rockstar aesthetic with just enough of his former emo-goth self underneath to keep it honest.
Despite the bags under his eyes and the tension wound through his frame, he looked healthier than she remembered.
“Fuck. It really is you, isn’t it?” His voice cracked with disbelief.
Ava blinked, her voice failing her for a second. “Why are you—”
He wrapped his arms around her and crushed her into a hug, cutting her off.
The scent of cinnamon and cigarettes hit her.
It was a familiar, intoxicating mix that dragged her back to his old Smashing Pumpkins hoodie, the one she’d stolen when they first started dating.
She’d worn it through college during late-night study sessions when he was on the road and she was drowning in organic chemistry.
His body shook against hers.
“Jay?” She hesitated, her hands hovering before finally resting on his back. “Are you okay?”
He sagged, and she caught him, keeping them steady. They stayed like that until he pulled away and swiped at his eyes. The shine on his cheeks said it all.
“Sorry—I—” He shuddered. “It’s been a fucked-up night.”
Ava stepped back. “What’s going on?”
He shuffled on his feet and took a deep breath. “Ari collapsed. Pretty sure he overdosed onstage.”
She thought of the last time she’d seen Ari. He was always pushing boundaries, but she’d never imagined him crossing this line. Jay had been the reckless one back then, with Ari helping her keep him grounded. The role reversal left her stomach churning.
How bad had things gotten with the band? Sure, they were big, but were they at the point of each of them becoming casualties of their own success? She’d watched helplessly as fame slowly consumed Jay, never imagining it could spread any further.
He laughed bitterly. “What a reunion, huh?” Circling the small space, he took in a couple more deep breaths. “What a great way to return to Nashville.”
Ava had shoved the fact that Wicked Smile was in town to the back of her mind. She was already juggling enough daily stress without adding her ex’s tour schedule to the mix. But now he was here, forcing his way back onto her list of worries.
“What’s he taking?” Ava asked, her professional tone instinctively clicking into place.
“Oxy.”
Not shocking. OxyContin overdoses were routine in the ER.
“They probably gave him Naloxone,” she offered, wondering what state Ari was in. They’d most likely intubated him, and she didn’t like the mental image. “Sometimes our bodies shut down to protect us.”
Jay wiped his eyes again and crossed his arms. He turned toward the brick wall beside them, his sharp jawline shadowing the tattoo she now saw in detail on his neck.
Dark lines made up an intricate mandala centered around his Adam’s apple, stretching into symmetrical swirls on either side.
It was beautiful. She caught herself wanting to trace the lines with her fingers.
“But what if he never wakes up?”
The boy’s lifeless face flashed in front of her, and her knees threatened to give out again. She stumbled to a nearby bench, head spinning. The clunk of Jay’s boots echoed as he approached, followed by the slight shift of the bench beside her.
“You okay?” Jay prompted softly.
Ava kept her gaze down. If holding back tears had been difficult earlier, it was nearly impossible now.
“I’ve also had a pretty messed-up night.”
“What happened?”
She considered shrugging him off, but the weight of the night was too much. “Lost my first patient—a kid.”
“Fuck…” Jay breathed, the word heavy with shared grief.
She could see them younger, laughing on benches like this one outside venues she’d driven to between classes—back when they still had to pack merch into the van themselves. Back when being together had felt like enough to survive anything.
Jay stirred, and the memory dissolved. He rummaged through his pockets, pulling out a lighter before bringing his phone to his ear.
“Hey, Mir.”
Samira. His younger sister.
Even after the split, Ava had stayed in touch with Mira on and off, sending birthday or Christmas texts the first couple of years. Last she knew, Mira was studying music business at Belmont.
“I—uh—I don’t know where I am, actually. Still at the hospital.” A pause. “Went out for a smoke. How did you find everyone?” Another pause. “Oh. Okay. Be there soon.”
Jay ended the call and looked at Ava. “They put us in an oncology waiting room to have some privacy. Know where that is?” He frowned, looking down at his feet. “You can also tell me to fuck off and find it my damn self if you need to, you know, sit for a while.”
Ava didn’t answer immediately. She could tell him that. She should. Years of buried contempt were rising in her throat.
Nevertheless, she sighed. A detour to the oncology room would only take two minutes.
“I’ll get you there,” she said, her voice clipped. “But then I need to get back to work.”
He nodded and hunched his shoulders. “I…appreciate it, A. Thanks.”
A.
The nickname stung, his husky voice echoing in her memory. She thought she’d never hear it again.
Standing abruptly, she grabbed her bag. “Come on. It’s not far.”
The badge scanner beeped as she unlocked the door. Jay followed, his gaze fixed somewhere over her shoulder. They turned right into the unoccupied wing, the clunk of his heavy boots and soft squeak of her sneakers filling the silence.
“So, where do you work exactly?” he asked after a few moments.
“Emergency. I wasn’t assigned to Ari, so I had no idea you were here.”
“I hope a lot of people don’t know we’re here.”
She glanced at him as they walked, still processing that he was real and not some fever dream. Jay Wyler, moving beside her through a hospital corridor like no time had passed at all.
She cleared her throat. “Everything else okay?” The bitterness crept in despite herself. “You guys are massive now compared to the last time I saw you. Guess leaving worked out pretty well for you.”
The moment she said it, she regretted it. She felt him tense and watched him shove his hands into his pockets.
“Have you…” He hesitated. “Have you followed us at all?”
She could’ve lied and said she never thought about him. Against her better judgment, she stuck to the truth: “I see what pops up on social media.”
“You knew we’d be here tonight?”
“I did.” She kept her eyes ahead. “Heard a lot of complaints about the traffic your show caused. You probably ruined a few bachelorette parties.”
The corner of his mouth moved—not quite a smile, but close. The tension in his jaw loosened slightly.
“Okay, but seriously,” he said, “why is Broadway crawling with them now?”
“It’s an unexplainable phenomenon.”
“Truly one of Nashville’s great mysteries.”
“Up there with the traffic and the cost of rent.”
He made a low sound that was almost a laugh. She felt herself falling back into the ease of him, that comfort she’d spent years trying to convince herself she didn’t miss. It had no right to feel this good.
She made herself look away.
They crossed a glass-walled indoor bridge, the street below alive despite the late hour. Silence returned as they reached the oncology hallway. Ava texted Vickie, explaining she was helping a visitor and would return soon.
A voice broke the quiet before a small figure sprinted toward them.
Mira launched herself into Jay’s arms and let out a sob. “You’re okay, right?” she managed between gasps. “You didn’t take anything or…or drink?”
“Nah, Mir. Still clean.” Jay held her tightly. “You don’t need to worry about me right now, promise.”
Still clean.
So he was sober. That explained why he looked more solid.
Mira pulled back, shoving him lightly and swiping at her tears. “And how dare you not call me as soon as it happened?! I had to hear it from Riley!”
“Sorry…I didn’t know how to tell you. I’m glad he did.”
Ava barely recognized her. The vibrant pink hair was striking, but Mira had grown into herself in deeper ways. Her face had matured, her cheekbones sharper. There was an air of confidence in how she carried herself that wasn’t there before.
Her eyes lit up when she noticed Ava. “Oh my god. Ava!”
She launched herself at Ava the same way she had at Jay, and Ava hugged her back like Mira was still the little sister she’d never officially had.
Ava fished a small pack of tissues from her bag when they separated. “Here.”
Mira took one, dabbing at her cheeks. “I forgot you worked here. Have you seen Ari? Is he okay?”
Ava shook her head. “I don’t know. He wasn’t assigned to me.”
“How did you know Ava worked here?” Jay asked.
“I follow her on Instagram.” Mira shot him a look. “Also, where the hell were you? You said you were out for a smoke?”
“Yeah, ran into Ava outside.” Jay ran his fingers through his hair nervously as if he was being scolded.
“I thought you quit smoking.”
“I did. For a week.”
The sibling bickering felt like a movie Ava had seen a hundred times. She was an intruder in a life she used to own.
“I need to get back to work,” Ava forced herself to say.
“Wait.” Mira took out her phone. “Is your number the same? Would it be okay to keep in touch or ask you about Ari? I’ve got some exams this week, so it’s going to be hard for me to get over here.”
Ava swallowed the explanations of HIPAA laws that tickled the tip of her tongue. Looking at Mira’s red-rimmed eyes…the professional wall crumbled.
“Number’s the same. Feel free to reach out.”
Mira smiled, already typing. “Well, I texted you to be sure.”
Ava’s eyes drifted back to Jay, who was staring a hole into the linoleum. She hoped Mira wouldn’t keep in touch and things returned to how they were. It would be easier that way, staying distant.
Without looking up, Jay turned to walk toward the oncology unit. “Take care, A.”
“Bye,” Mira said, blowing a kiss before jogging to catch up to her brother.
Ava watched them go, tissue pack still clutched in her hand.