Chapter Twenty-Two Dominic
Chapter Twenty-Two
Dominic
H oney, it could have happened to anyone,” Ellen said from the small folding chair she was in next to her son’s hospital bed. “There was no way for you to know that suitcase was going to hit you.”
“I should have been being more careful,” Dominic disagreed as he stared up at the ceiling over his hospital bed with one eye, a giant patch over the other. Even in the eye that wasn’t covered and hadn’t sustained the direct impact, there were squiggles and floaters in his vision that looked like they were dancing on the ceiling, and the edges of his vision were dark and blurred. The emergency room doctor had confirmed that his retina had become detached again with the latest injury, and it looked like there was blunt trauma to his other eye as well but not a full detachment.
A fucking suitcase falling out of an overhead bin onto his face.
How absolutely humiliating.
Especially in today’s world, where everyone had a camera and access to the rest of the world instantly, and some jackass had posted a video of him reeling in pain as if it were funny. Eric was already working hard with a tech friend on scrubbing the video from the internet and sending out cease and desist letters to media outlets who were trying to share it, but once something like that was out there, it’s impossible to get rid of entirely.
He felt like a fucking laughingstock. Hell, he was a laughingstock. And even that would be tolerable if it meant he wasn’t possibly losing his sight altogether.
Ellen sighed and patted his hand with hers. “Dom, you’re so hard on yourself. I wish you’d lighten up some. Dr. Ahn said that there was a possibility of this happening again with even a small injury or bump. You might not have been able to avoid it entirely, and it helps no one to blame yourself. We were already working on borrowed time.”
He knew that she was right, but he was seething with so much anger inside right now that he couldn’t even think about her perspective. He was just pissed off at that fucking suitcase, at the faulty latch on the damn overhead bin, at the passenger who hadn’t been more careful with how they packed their luggage, and with himself for not ducking out of the way instead of turning to look up directly at the incoming blunt trauma.
First, he’d lost his entire career in front of the entire world, and now he couldn’t even go gracefully into retirement. It felt like… what was even the fucking point anymore? What did he even have to look forward to?
“Dominic Gage?” A tall man in a white doctor’s coat walked into the room. “We’re going to get you transferred from the ER and up to pre-op. Your blood work and everything look great, so we feel comfortable moving forward. I’ve got some releases here for you to sign and look over, and I want to talk to you a bit about the surgery and potential complications, as well as aftercare. You won’t be able to get on a plane after this for at least six weeks, or drive a car yourself, so it’ll be important to have a ride available to take you home.”
“I’ll take him home,” his mother responded to the doctor. “I’m his mother. Whatever he needs, we’ll make sure he has it.”
Dominic looked away toward the unit of shelves and cupboards on the wall, some of which had peeled stickers on them or paper notices about procedures and wait times. The doctor kept talking and describing the upcoming surgery in detail to him, and he nodded along like he was following, but he wasn’t even the slightest bit. Instead, he was thinking of last night, before he’d ever gotten on that flight, when he’d been laid out on Amanda’s couch, her body curled into his side, as they watched a Hallmark movie that she swore would bring him to tears. It didn’t, but he loved that she got so invested in films and stories like that. He wondered what it would be like to sit on that couch with her and listen to the movie but not be able to actually watch it. A lump formed in his throat as he considered what it might feel like holding her but not being able to see into her perfectly brown eyes again or remember what her smile looked like when she completely lit up a room with her laughter. He wondered what it would feel like to walk into a home he only had visual memories of but couldn’t actually see anymore.
His entire life had been dedicated to baseball, to coaches and spectators and other people. This was supposed to be the time he got for himself—to live out his dreams that he’d spent his entire career earning. And he wasn’t going to see any of it.
“Dom, did you hear what the doctor said?” Ellen asked gently, prodding his arm to get his attention.
He turned to look at her and the doctor, who had a clipboard stretched out toward him with consent paperwork on top. Dominic just nodded and took the forms, signing them one by one, then handing them back to the doctor.
“I’m going to stay with you the whole time, okay?” His mother was talking to him, but he was back to staring at the wall.
For some reason, he wanted to remember what these cabinets looked like. He carefully studied the corners and edges, the handles, and the different notices posted on each side. He tried to read some of them, but most of the typography was too small for him to make out the words anymore.
“Is he in here?” Her voice was soft from somewhere behind him, but he recognized Amanda immediately.
He turned to look toward the entrance to the room to see her standing there, car keys in one hand, her hair in a messy bun on top of her head, wearing her signature T-shirt and skinny jeans that she always wore on her days off.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, because he’d told his mother to contact her and let her know what happened, but he certainly hadn’t expected her to drive all the way down here. “You must have broken every speed record getting here since my mom called you.”
“Actually, I was already halfway here when she called,” Amanda said, walking over to the edge of the hospital bed and placing her hand on his shin.
“I’ll give you two a few minutes alone,” Ellen said, standing up and slipping Amanda a quick hug. “I need the bathroom and some water anyway. I’ll be back in a few, but I have my cell phone on me if the doctors come back sooner. They said about an hour until they’ll take him to pre-op for the surgery.”
Amanda nodded and thanked her, then took a seat in the chair she’d been in. She scooted it closer to Dominic so she was right up against the bed, leaning her elbows on the thin mattress. “How are you doing?”
He let out a huff of air and gestured to the room around him. “How do you think I’m doing?”
His tone came out a lot more aggressive than he meant it to, but he didn’t want to take it back, either.
“This is the only way I know how to process what’s essentially my worst nightmare.”
She cast her eyes down, her mouth in a firm line. “I’m so sorry, Dominic. That was an insensitive question. I can’t imagine what you’re going through. Your mother told me about the diagnosis and the surgery, and I booked a hotel nearby for the night. I told your mother I’d drive you back to Heart Lake when you get discharged, unless you’d rather she be with you. Whatever you’re more comfortable with.”
“To be honest, I don’t care that much,” he replied. “I just want to get this over with.”
Amanda nodded like she understood, but of course, there was no way that she could. No one could understand what he was feeling right now, and he couldn’t even figure out how to vocalize it.
But deep down, underneath all the fear and shit, he was glad she was there.
“Have you uh… have you called your therapist?” Amanda asked gingerly, and he could tell she felt like she was walking on eggshells around him. That only made him feel worse, and the guilt was absorbed into his anger and resentment, only tripling the entire thing. “Maybe we get an appointment on the books for after the surgery? I can do it for you if you tell me where to find him.”
“Oh, now you’re the one telling me to go to therapy?” He let out a wry, unmeaning laugh. “That’s a turn of events.”
“Hey,” she replied defensively. “Dominic, I’m just trying to help.”
“Well, it’s not very helpful,” he snapped back, immediately hating himself more for doing it. He wanted to just shut up, but it was like he couldn’t keep his venom inside in that moment, and she was the one who happened to be standing there when the floodgates unlocked. “I didn’t ask you to come here. I didn’t ask you to drive me home or take care of me. I’m a grown man, and I don’t need my girlfriend to come be my nurse or my mother. I don’t need anyone at all.”
Amanda stood up from the chair and took a step back. “I’m going to go out into the hall and get myself some water and give you a few minutes to think about why you’re being such an asshole right now.”
Good, she was fighting back. That’s exactly what he wanted. He wanted to fight. He wanted to slam his fists into a wall and feel the crack of his knuckles against the Sheetrock, the stream of warm blood against his skin. He wanted the pain, and he wanted to suffer.
He was already suffering so much.
“How about you just get back in your car and go home, and leave me alone instead?” he replied, resorting to the only option he had left—emotional pain and isolating himself from the people who cared about him. Because that’s what he deserved right now.
“Maybe I will,” she said, her tone louder now. “And, by the way, we never put labels on things yet, so don’t call me your girlfriend because this is not how someone should treat a girlfriend.”
“You’d rather me call you a fuck buddy?” he shot back. “That’s romantic.”
“We haven’t had sex,” she reminded him, her voice even louder now. “And we’re not going to now because you’re an asshole, and I’m leaving.”
With that, she stormed out of the room and right past his mother who was walking back in, eyes wide with a cup of ice water in her hand.
“Jesus, I was gone for three minutes, and I could hear the yelling down the hall,” Ellen said. “What the hell, Dom? Since when do you yell?”
He turned back to look at the cabinets, refusing to answer her, refusing to answer anyone.
“Fine,” Ellen continued, putting her cup of water down on a side table and heading back in the direction that Amanda had just gone. “Throw yourself your little pity party. I’ll go find Amanda and apologize to her for your asinine behavior, but you owe me—and you absolutely owe her now, too.”
He didn’t watch her leave but kept studying the cabinets instead. His cell phone vibrated on the bed next to him and audibly announced the name of who was calling so he didn’t have to look at the screen—Eric Minton.
Dominic answered the call. “Hello?”
“Buddy, I’ve got good news and bad news,” Eric started the call with his usual jumping-right-in style. “Are you sitting down?”
“I’m lying in a hospital bed, dumbass,” he replied. “You know that.”
“Oh, right. I just got an update from your mother and heard all about the surgery,” Eric replied. “Everything is set for discharge tomorrow. They wanted to do it outpatient—in and out same day—but I told your mother to tell them absolutely not. Give you some time to recoup and I’d pay for the upgrade to a private room.”
He only grunted in response to that.
“But the other news is,” Eric continued. “You got the fucking job.”
“What?” He perked up slightly at that news, confused as all hell. “The commentator position? At MLB Strike Zone? I never even made it there for the interview.”
“Yeah, but it was between you and one other person, and they apparently didn’t like the other guy’s interview, so they offered it to you instead,” Eric explained with more enthusiasm than Dominic could muster in that moment. “They said no need to even come in to interview, just take time to rest. They want you to start in two months, which gives you more than enough time to heal and move.”
“Holy shit,” he replied. That was absolutely the last news he’d been expecting to hear, and it honestly did dissipate some of his anger the smallest amount. It was like a path forward was opening up in a moment where he felt so hopelessly deadlocked. “I’ll take it.”
“Really?” Eric let out a holler and clapped his hands from the other end of the phone. “That’s perfect, D. I’ll call them right after this and let them know. This is big—we’re doing big things together, man!”
“Sure,” he replied with a half-hearted chuckle at Eric’s excitement. He still couldn’t forget that he had a surgery to complete and heal from before then, as well as an entire move across the country. Plus, he’d have to tell Amanda that he was leaving, which would probably be a lot easier now that she certainly disliked him.
Honestly, it was probably for the best. He hated hurting her, but a future with him would ultimately hurt her far more. She hadn’t signed up to be his caretaker, and he wasn’t about to put that kind of burden on her. She deserved a relationship with someone who could actually give her the life she wanted, and that clearly wasn’t going to be him after all this was over.
“You said there was also bad news?” Dominic asked.
“Yeah,” Eric replied. “TMZ picked up the video. I got them to take it down within twenty minutes of it going up, but the views are already out there, and people screen-recorded it. It’s looking like it’s going to be a lot harder to scrub it entirely.”
Dominic didn’t even care anymore. “Well, I won’t be able to see it soon anyway, so whatever. People are assholes.”
“Morbid joke, but I hear you,” Eric agreed. “But also, any publicity before a job like this is good publicity. It will bring in the viewers, which will make Strike Zone happy, and you’ll look like a superstar who skyrocketed their ratings.”
“Great. Can’t wait,” he replied sarcastically. “My misery can be their gain.”
“There’s always a light at the end of the tunnel, D,” Eric tried to soften things.
He scoffed again. “Not when you’re blind. Bye, Eric.”
With that, he hung up the phone, closed his eye, and tried to block out every memory from today.