21. Ezrah
Ezrah
21
Iwake up in a dark room that still feels like it holds the sun. The little bits of light that worm their way inside seem to stab at my skull. I let out a pained groan, moving to clutch at my head only to find stitches under my fingers.
That must have alerted them I’m awake because less than a second later, an attendant is in my field of vision, checking vitals and asking me too many questions.
Once she’s done, an officer came in. She’s a medium woman of average height with long brown hair slicked back in a ponytail.
“Good afternoon,” she greets. “How are you feeling?”
“Sore. Are Dil and Lucas alright?” I ask.
“They’re safe. You can see them as soon as we’re done here.”
“Good, good,” I nod then wince at the fresh wave of pain. “So what do you need from me?”
“I just need you to tell me what happened,” she sat on one of the chairs for guests. “Make sure you’re safe.”
“Funny, you sound just like Lucas.”
“He’s the man you were driving with, right? Why don’t we start there? Where were you going?”
“The airport, I think. Lucas was helping me get away from my ex. I trusted he knew where we’d be safe.”
“So what went wrong?”
“Allen, my ex, was following us. Lucas knew, but we were running out of gas. We had to stop, and he told me to wait in the car. I didn’t listen, but I didn’t think Allen would have a gun. I didn’t want anyone to get hurt.”
“Not sure if it counts as good news, but you’re the only one who got hurt.” She gives me a half smile. “You should make a full recovery before you know it. Do you want to press charges?”
“No! Why would I press charges against Lucas?!”
She gives me a strange look. “I meant against Allen.”
“I can do that?”
“Absolutely! What he did was attempted murder.” She glanced down at her notebook. “Should be an open and shut case too. He did it in a public place, on camera with dozens of witnesses. He’s looking at at least ten years, possibly even life in prison.”
“Really?”
“Really. It will be smoother if you testify against him, but even if you don’t, he’ll be taken into custody as soon as he’s discharged.”
I struggle to form the words, nodding my head emphatically, despite the pain it causes. “Yes, God, yes. Thank you so much!”
“Don’t thank me. I’m just doing my job.” She tucks her notebook away. “Thank you for your time. We’ll be in touch about your case.”
Alone in the room, I fell back on my bed with a grin.
We did it.
We were safe.
There was a check from a doctor then I was finally cleared for visitors. When the next nurse rotated in I asked him. He smiled at me.
“He’s been waiting for you to be ready. Do you want me to send him in?”
“Yeah, if you don’t mind.”
A short time later the door swung open.
“Ezrah!” Lucas races inside. I wince at the volume, each word a knife stabbing into my skull. The light from the door burns my eyes.
“Sorry,” he whispers, seeing my face. He gently shuts the door behind him. “Concussion. I shouldn’t be so loud. How are you feeling?”
“Alive,” I groan. “Relieved. They say Allen’s been arrested.”
He sits on the edge of the bed. Holding a happy, babbling Dil. Thank God babies are so resilient. She won’t even remember this.
Lucas looks amazing, even with a bandage on his chin. If I were a braver man, I might have reached out for him. “It's true. You don’t have to worry about him anymore. You can even go home when they discharge you.”
“Home,” My smile feels oddly uncomfortable. “Do you think Dil will like it there?”
“I’m sure she’ll love it. I sent someone to move over the rest of your things. Should be all ready by the time you’re done here.”
“That’s good. What about Beatrice?
“One of our guys took her home already, so you don’t need to worry about her. I’m sure she’s glad to be back in her kingdom.” As Lucas chatters on, I notice his smile seems odd too, almost pained.
After a while, a doctor comes and gives me a final once over and that’s that. Only a few hours later, I signed some discharge papers and we were in a new car like nothing ever happened.
“So I guess I should drive you back to your place now?” Lucas asks.
“That’s the plan, isn’t it?” It’s not what I want to say. I don’t even know what I want to say. The ride back is strangely quiet, not the usual comfortable silence I’ve gotten used to during our time together. There’s an awkwardness I’d never felt with him. It’s like someone changed the rules and now I don’t know what they are.
When we pull into my driveway, neither of us moves.
“Here we are,” Lucas says, avoiding my eyes.
I knew it was coming, that what we’d had would end the second we were back in the real world, but it still cuts me like a knife to see it happen. “I guess I should go in now.”
“Do you need any help getting Dil inside?”
I shake my head. There’s no point in prolonging the inevitable. “I can take care of it. Should I say thank you or whatever?”
He shakes his head at that and looks sad. “It was my pleasure. All of it.”
We sit there for another awkward moment, then I get Dil out of the back and go inside. There’s something very final about the way the front door closes behind me.
When I look out the window, Lucas is installing Dil’s car seat in my little blue car. When he’s done he lingers for a few minutes before he pulls away and Dil and I are truly alone.
I shake my head. It’s over. Time to go back to real life.
Real life is difficult with a concussion. Especially with a baby and a computer-based job. Every time I sit down to try and get anything done, either my head or Dil puts a quick stop to it. It’s obvious I need help.
I try to find a nanny or babysitter online but have a hard time trusting someone to come into my home and take care of my child.
I just can’t imagine anyone filling Lucas’s shoes.
Not that I miss Lucas. No, I totally didn’t miss Lucas. Just our routine. The stability it offered Dil. The homemade meals. Laughing around the dinner table. Watching movies curled up on the sofa. Falling asleep in each other's arms.
There’s nothing to miss after all. We didn’t have a relationship. I was just an experiment to him. Something to pass the time while we were in hiding.
Now, it’s over. That’s fine. It’s better this way really.
As my head heals, things get easier, but there’s still an ache in my chest. Dil cries more often, at least it seems like she does.
The internet thinks she might be teething?
But the worst part is the way Lucas haunts my dreams. He taunts me with things I know I can’t have.
It would be one thing if the dreams were sexual, and sometimes they are. More often than not, though, they’re just about us going for walks together, watching movies, building a life.
Things come to a head a week after I’ve been given a clean bill of health by my doctor. I’m working from home, a skill I’ve forced myself to cultivate, though it’s still not quite the same, while Dil plays on the floor in front of me.
She’d been a lot more mobile lately, even pushing to her feet to stand occasionally.
Suddenly, she grabs the coffee table with her chubby little hands, letting out a little grunt of effort as she shoves to her feet.
Everything moves in slow motion. I watch in awe as she takes a shaky, wobbly step toward me before falling to the ground.
I leap to my feet racing over to her. “Oh my god! You just took your first steps!”
I scoop her up, twirling her through the air.
“Wait until Lucas-” the words die on my lips.
I stand there, Dil gurgling happily in my arms.
I look into her eyes and take a fortifying breath. “You know what, you’re right. I’m going to do it!”
I pick up my phone before I give myself a chance to change my mind.