by Shayne Ford
James’ voice echoes at the top of the stairwell when my phone flashes a call.
It’s a New York phone number I don’t recognize it.
I swipe my thumb across the screen and answer.
“Yes?”
“Tiago Rossi?”
“Who is this?”
“This is Shawna from Lenox Hill Hospital in New York. How are you today, Sir?”
“Good. How about you?” I ask tensely.
“I’m fine. Do you happen to know someone by the name of Eve Malone?”
The blood draws from my face.
“Yes. Why?”
The woman pauses for a moment.
“What happened?” I ask again.
“She’s currently in the ER. Someone found her unconscious on the sidewalk and called 911. Her phone was missing. She also had an envelope clutched in her hand with your name and address on it.”
I push up to my feet.
“Are you a friend or a relative?” she asks.
“A friend,” I say, my throat dry.
“Does she have any family?”
“You can use my contact information for now. I’ll talk to them. Can you tell me a little more?”
“Are you in town?”
“No, but I’m on my way.”
I check the time on my watch.
“I can get there in a few hours. Is she going to be okay?”
“She’s stable now. They’ve run several tests on her. I’ll have more information when you get here.”
“Thank you.”
I end the call.
“Who was that?”
James’ voice resonates behind me as I stall for a few seconds, processing the information, coming up with a plan, a story.
I turn around. James’ expression changes instantly.
“What happened?”
“Something happened to Eve Malone.”
His eyebrows tilt up.
“An accident?”
“No.”
“She passed out on the street. Someone found her and called an ambulance. She’s in the ER.”
“Who was that?” he asks, nearing the table while retrieving his cell phone from his pocket.
“Lenox Hill hospital.”
“Why did they call you?”
“She lost her phone, and my name was on a business card I’d given her a while ago,” I lie. “They asked me if I know her parents, and I said I’d call them. Do you have their number? I need to fly to New York this afternoon and check on her. I’m the person of contact,” I say, without blinking.
Already setting myself in motion.
His hand goes up.
“Wait. We’ll go together. I need to make a few phone calls first and get the jet ready.”
I get swept by heat as several possible scenarios barrel through my mind, none of them great, but one, in particular, makes me shudder. James could find out about Eve and me in one of the worst moments, and yet, I keep my mouth shut.
Revealing the truth right now would complicate things.
For the next ten minutes or so, I watch him make several calls. A source of his provides more information regarding Eve’s hospitalization.
She was brought in by ambulance a few hours ago after someone called an ambulance. The man found her unconscious on the street not far from the sports club where she usually works out. The initial diagnosis is pneumonia with possible complications.
I process every bit of information James relays to me, expressionless, all my emotions shut down. I fear the worst, but I don’t let that out.
He calls Eve’s parents as well.
For a few moments, I hear his words, but their sense escapes me entirely as I struggle with reality.
“She’s in stable condition right now. Yes... I’ll go there. Uh-huh. Okay... All right.”
He ends the call.
“What were they saying?”
“They’re on vacation in Hawaii. They’ll hop on the first plane tomorrow morning.”
“What about Rain?”
“I’ll talk to her. She’ll be better off if she stays home. I don’t want her to travel right now.”
He checks the time on his phone.
“We leave in about an hour or so.”
EVE
Lenox Hospital, New York
“Does it feel any better?”
The nurse adjusts my pillow so that I can find that perfect spot and let my body relax. I feel tired.
Exhausted.
She checks the IV before she turns low the lights and walks out of the room.
Through the open shades, I observe the nurse station, the people working behind the desk, the light much brighter in there than here.
Watching people mitigates my angst.
The doctor said I’d be fine. The antibiotic regimen should be working as expected. That’s good news, I guess.
He also said that I need to rest. What else can I do anyway?
Besides calling my mom and telling my parents that I quit my job and planning my move at the end of the month. Also, talk to James, and tell Rain.
Ugh.
What a mess.
Progressively, my eyes get heavy with sleep as I keep staring at the people outside my room going about their business, writing notes in their charts, answering calls, doing rounds, checking on the other patients, some better than me. Some worse.
The soft humming coming from the nurse station and the warm light glowing behind the glass make me begin to drift off to sleep.
I need to buy a new phone, I muse as my eyelids get heavier.
I’m almost there when the broad shoulders of a dark-haired man enter my line of sight.
It’s the suit jacket that piques my interest since everybody else wears scrubs or white coats.
I instantly recognize his profile. James?
My eyes peel wide. Is it him, or I’m delirious?
A second man about his height enters my view as well. I jerk up, the intravenous line moving with me.
“Fuck.”
I crash back into my pillow.
The nurse’ eyes dance with a smile as James begins to talk to her. The man’s charm works in every setting, it seems.
She points in my direction, and my heart spins in my chest.
They’re here for you, a panicked thought blasts in my head.
Just as I pull the covers up to my chin, they all pivot, heading my way.
The door opens slowly. The woman walks in first.
I close my eyes, pretending I’m asleep.
“Eve?”
Slowly, I open my eyes just as the nurse inches to my bed.
“There’s someone here for you. How do you feel?”
“Good,” I say, tilting my head to see past her.
“I’ll let you with them.”
She retreats graciously before James closes the gap between us. My eyes slip by him to the man who stands by the door.
Tiago locks my eyes for a moment, and my first thought is that I look like shit, but that’s not what I see in his gaze.
He has that air about him as if we’re still a sweet, delicious secret. He doesn’t smile but softly nods before I move my eyes to James.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” I mutter.
James smiles, his confident grin making me feel better.
“I hope you left Rain at home.”
“Yes.”
My gaze shifts to Tiago again.
“The people at the front desk said that they found Tiago’s information on you. That’s why they called him.”
“Oh...”
The letter in my backpack.
“I lost my phone.”
“I know. Here,” he says, retrieving a brand new phone and handing it to me. “I got you a new one.”
I take it from him and set it next to me.
I feel silly, going from the professional woman who had everything under control a few days back to someone who’s depended on other people.
“I’m sorry,” I say, my words di
sjointed from his.
“You don’t like your phone,” he says jokingly, bringing a smile to my lips.
“No, no. I love it.”
My smile dies out, though.
“This whole thing... I didn’t think it was that bad. I thought I got the flu.”
He takes my hand, his warmth transferring to my skin.
“Don’t think about it right now. Crap happens all the time. You’ll get better. You’ll see.”
I love his optimism.
“About my job...”
“Don’t fret about it either. You’ll start working when you get well. For now, I need to talk to your doctor. I called your mother. She’ll fly to New York tomorrow morning.”
He looks at me.
“All right?”
“Okay,” I say softly before he smoothly turns around and strides out of the room.
I move my gaze to Tiago.
His eyes hold mine.
“Hey...” I say, lifting my hand before I let it crash on my bed.
My faint voice sets him in motion.
“Hey...” he says, stopping next to my bed too.
“You didn’t need to come,” I say, stating a fact, no emotion streaming through my voice.
He drags the only chair in the room closer and takes a seat. Silent, I watch him rest his elbows on his knees and tilting his gaze down.
He fashions a suit but no tie, just like his brother. My eyes stay on his sculpted fingers, as they slowly move, rubbing his temples.
“I’m sorry,” he says, not looking at me.
He doesn’t let out any emotion either, and I don’t know what to make out of that.
“What do you mean?”
I push my hand in his direction, dragging the IV after me. He tips his gaze to me and takes my hand.
He pins his eyes on my palm as he sheathes it with his hands.
“What happened to you, Eve?” he asks in a low, quiet voice.
Instinctively, I attempt to tear my hand away from his.
He blocks my retreat, clutching my fingers.
“We can’t have this conversation here, Tiago.”
He doesn’t let go of me.
“Is that why you came?” I ask suspiciously.
“No, no. Calm down. I got the call from the hospital. The woman told me that they found a letter that was addressed to me in your hand. She also told me how you got here.”
His eyes don’t leave mine, not a second.
“What happened to you?” he asks again.
“Nothing. I got the flu, or so I thought. I was coughing, and I ran a fever. It got worse, but I had no clue it was so serious.”
“You passed out in front of the gym club.”
“Let’s say that working out wasn’t my best idea.”
He pauses for a moment, searching my eyes.
I still can’t read a thing on his face.
“A twenty-five-year-old healthy, fit woman doesn’t come down with pneumonia and passes out on a sidewalk just like that.”
“What are you implying?”
“I want to know what happened since we talked last time.”
I stay mum.
“It started that night, didn’t it?” he mutters.
I say nothing.
“I told you that we should go inside. It was stupid to have an argument in that frigid temperature.”
“You didn’t want to talk to me,” I snap. “But I surely didn’t plan on getting pneumonia.”
“I’m not blaming it on you, Eve,” he says, his eyes warming up for a second as he moves his gaze to my hair.
I bring my free hand to my crown.
“It doesn’t look good now,” I say, all fussy about it.
Gently, he tears my hand away from my head.
“That’s not why I was looking at it.”
I flick my gaze to him.
A small smile tugs at his lips.
“I’m happy to see that you’re still very much feisty and ready to throw a fit because of your hair.”
I get lost for a moment in the depth of his eyes, distracted by his shiny, dark lashes and the warmth oozing from his face.
“Are you going to tell me?” he asks again.
I feel the sting of tears in my eyes.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say softly.
“It does to me.”
I pause.
He waits for me to speak.
“I didn’t want it to happen this way.”
“I don’t think anyone wanted it to happen.”
“I’m talking about my job.”
He suppresses his reaction.
“Okay.”
“I didn’t do it because I wanted to leave... I was sort of forced out of my current position. There’ve made a lot of changes, and my days were numbered, but that was not all. I mean... It wasn’t everything that affected my decision. There were other things... I had been thinking about moving back home well before James made me the proposal in November. And I could’ve said yes, back then. I didn’t do it because of you. I dragged my feet as much as I could, hoping that things would sort themselves out. I was waiting to see what happens to us. And then stuff started to unfold at work and Rain put more pressure on me. And she was right in doing so, but I wasn’t ready to have that conversation with you. And I didn’t want to rush things between us, to make you feel as if I forced your hand. You had your own issues with James. I didn’t want to complicate your life. Had I come to you with my idea of leaving New York and starting a new life in Colorado, chances are you would’ve reacted the exact same way you did later on. You would’ve thought that you were not important to me. At least, not important enough to take you into consideration. I didn’t want to bring up the conversation of ‘How do you see our relationship in five years from now?’ either. We weren’t there. We barely connected again and started to spend some time together and pushed the fact that I had no idea who you really were past us. We were not in a right place to discuss my career options or make life-altering decisions. I didn’t want to give you the impression that I was pushy or I was trying to force your hand. I loathed the idea that I’d ask you to come with me to Colorado and you’d say, ‘Hell, no.’ On the other hand, I didn’t want you to think that I had just woken up one morning and decided to change career paths and zip codes and also to leave you behind as if you were nothing to me, or nothing more than a fling. I don’t think there was a right way of doing this. If it were, it escaped me completely. James gave me enough time to think. He was in no rush, so the problem wasn’t him. But what happened at work was. And it happened faster than I’d anticipated, so when I complained to Rain that my work life was pure misery, she saw no reason to delay my coming home. She insisted on me making a decision. What she asked of me was common sense, so I gave in. I didn’t do it in the idea that you weren’t important enough for me to talk to you about it. I told her that I was okay with it, hoping that I’d come up with a plan to make things right for us, but that never happened.”
I pause while he keeps his eyes trained on me, an eyebrow arched.
“Things happened too fast, and all at once. The new people came in a day earlier, announcing big changes that were spelling disaster. And then James and Rain showed up, and their dinner party happened, and we had to play our part to keep the charade going.”
“Why couldn’t you tell then what you’re telling me now.”
“Because...”
I stop as my voice start to break, and tears wash my tears.
Sniffling, I run my fingers below my eyes.
“Because I couldn’t find a moment. And when shit happened, and you went away with that woman,” I mutter, venting my frustration. “There was no way I could turn things around, especially not by saying to you all this.”
“And now you can?”
“I have nothing to lose, have I?”
He looks down again, holding my hand in his palms, his stare going vacant for a moment.
Finally, he lifts my hand to his
face and presses the back of my knuckles against his cheek, and then he kisses the back of my hand and lets me splay my fingers on his cheek.”
“Are you with her now?” I ask, spoiling this moment in a way, yet too tormented not to want to know the truth.
Slowly shaking his head, he tips his gaze down.
“I was never with her.”
He swings his gaze to me.
I don’t know what to believe.
“Where were you Saturday night then?”
“I booked a hotel room.”
It’s great news, and yet I only feel sadness.
“Was it that bad to talk to me that night you preferred to sleep someplace else?”
“I didn’t want to...”
He tips his head down again, a dash of guilt rolling on his face.
“It’s a long story. It had nothing to do with you.”
His eyes find mine this time. He seems sincere.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
A few moments of silence slip by.
“You still didn’t tell me what happened after you left the restaurant on Monday evening,” he says.
I crash my cheek into the pillow, feeling even more despondent than before.
I suddenly feel like crying and sobbing and feeling sorry for myself. I wish I hadn’t done it in a hospital bed, risking to worsen my condition.
I think he knows what’s going on in my mind.
He brings his hand to my hair and starts stroking me the way he used to, and also wipes away my tears.
“I think I got a cold on Monday night.”
I pause for a moment before I continue.
“And I didn’t sleep much that night or the next, and I skipped meals and then...”
I stop, out of breath.
“I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t go to Colorado. I needed to take care of a lot of stuff here before I called the movers. And then I started to feel sick. I ran a fever, and I was coughing, so I bought some stuff from the store. None of it worked, but my head was not there, so I went to the gym determined to work out and force myself to feel better. It all got worse. I couldn’t breathe, and I felt as if I was about to faint. That’s when I walked out and tried to get a taxi. That’s when I noticed that my phone was gone. I started to get dizzy, so I propped myself against a streetlight, and then everything went black.”
He doesn’t say a word, only his hand feels warmer against mine, and his fingers stop brushing my hair.
