by Gia Riley
“I’m scaring you?” he questions. “How do you think I feel? I’m the one who has to go back to jail today.”
I shake my head like he can see me. “You don’t know that. Maybe it’s only community service.”
I can’t see what he’s doing, but I can tell he’s pacing around the house, slinging back whatever alcohol he can get his hands on. Connor’s never been one to face his fears. Instead, he’d rather shut them up and pretend they don’t exist.
“Say it is community service, your sister still has all kinds of other charges pending. So, even if I dodge doing time today, I’m still going in for something else. And I’m not going back, Megan. Do you hear me? I’m fucking not.”
“What do you want me to do, Connor?”
“Go down there right now and get her to drop the god damn charges.”
I can’t. I won’t. “My hands are tied. What’s done is done.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it. Because if you’ve ever loved me, you’d fucking drop them, Megan. This mess would be over.”
“If I loved you? Do you hear yourself? You’re the one who couldn’t marry me!”
“Revenge—is that what you need to make yourself feel better?”
“No, I don’t need anything. But I deserve it.”
“I’m a good dad, Meg. You know I am. I’d never purposely hurt our daughter. I love her—I love you.”
“Connor.”
I hear him swallow another sip and my heart breaks. My wounds will heal. Eventually, I’ll get over his rejection. What I can’t get over is seeing my daughter in pain because the one man who was supposed to protect her, let her down.
“Connor, I can’t. What you did to us is unforgivable.”
“They’re two completely different things.”
“Are they? Because as far as I can tell, one always leads to the other. You cheat and then you lie to me. You drink to cover up the guilt. It’s a never-ending cycle with you, and this time our daughter got caught in the middle. What happens next time? You kill her?”
“How could you say that? You must really hate me,” he whispers.
“That’s not fair. I loved you, Connor. Every single day of my life since I was old enough to understand what love was, I have loved you.”
“I still love you.”
My jaw clenches tightly, but I still can’t keep my mouth shut. “Don’t,” I tell him. “You don’t get to say that anymore.”
He’s quiet for a minute. At first I think I might be getting through to him. That is until I hear him crack open a beer and toss an empty one into the recycling bin. I’ve heard it a lot over the last couple of months.
“Connor, you can’t pretend you don’t have some place to be. You can’t pretend this isn’t happening. It won’t just go away.”
“It will if I want it to.”
“What does that mean?”
“It goes away if I do,” he says after another swig.
He’s silent on the other end of the line, and my heart starts to race so fast, I grip the sheets tighter around my body. “Connor, you can’t run. That’ll only make it worse once they find you. And they will find you.”
“I’m not talking about running,” he says, eerily. “I wasn’t born to spend my life in a jail cell. And without you and Laney, I have nothing else to live for.”
“Even if you go, you won’t be in jail forever.” I regret using the word as soon as it leaves my mouth. Forever is too potent. Too powerful. With no beginning or end, it’s not what Connor needs to hear from me right now. Right now, he needs the control back because he can’t deal with having it taken away from him. He needs hope.
“It doesn’t matter how long they put me away. I’ll always be carrying around a record. My life is so fucked.”
Glass shatters again and again, and I can picture is him sitting in the garage slinging bottles against the wall. “What are you doing?”
“What do you care? You won’t even come home.”
“Because it’s not safe. You can’t go more than ten minutes without breaking something.”
“You think I’d hurt you?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But it’s what you meant.”
I wish I knew how we got here. How it got this bad so fast. I need him to see that I’m not afraid of him, and that I want him to move on with his life, even if it means facing the consequences together.
It might be the stupidest move I can make, but he needs someone to have his back, and right now, that person has to be me. Like it or not, I’m all he has.
“Stop drinking. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. I just have to call Vanessa and she’ll let your attorney know you’re on your way. We can turn this around.”
“You’re dropping the charges?”
“No, I’m giving you a ride.”
“Then, I don’t have twenty minutes, Megan. All I wanted was to see Laney.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It means I’m done.”
He should care that he’s late for court. He should care that I’m running around in circles trying to get myself together because I’m worried about him.
“Laney’s in a wheelchair. I need a little time to get to the house.”
“You’re not at Vanessa’s. I’ve been watching her place.”
If I tell him where we are, he’ll get in his car and be here before I can get out of the house. I can’t take that kind of risk. “It doesn’t matter where I am. We’re safe. That’s should be enough for you.”
“It’s not. I want my family back, Megan. Tell me where you are.”
“I can’t,” I tell him as I fumble with my jeans and grab the first sweater I can get my hands on. “It doesn’t matter.”
“If it didn’t matter, it wouldn’t hurt this much. Please, Meg. I love you both so much.”
As soon as I’m dressed, I take a second to lean against the doorframe. Smoothing my hair into a ponytail, I tie it as tight as I can stand it before drying my tears with the back of my hand. I’m sweating and freezing at the same time. That’s how confused my body is.
But I can deal with my anxiety. What I can’t do is fly into Laney’s room out of breath and with tears in my eyes. She’ll see I was crying and panic. And I can’t have her find out about any of this.
“I just need ten more minutes. I’m coming,” I tell him.
“Did you call the cops?” he asks out of the blue.
“No. Why would I call the police?”
“You fucking called the cops on me.”
“What? Connor, I can’t call someone else if I’m on the phone with you.”
His voice is so muffled I can’t make out what he’s saying. But I do hear the front door slam followed by some yelling.
If he’s drunk and goes at them, they’ll take him down—right in the front yard for the rest of the neighborhood to see. He’s only going to make it worse.
“Connor!” I yell into the speaker. “Listen to me!”
“You want to call the cops on me, then fuck it. All your shit will be in the front yard waiting for you. Don’t bother trying to come inside.”
All I can picture is a busted up house with everything we own strewn around the grass. The same lawn he poured his time into when he needed to clear his mind. He’d spend hours mowing perfectly straight rows until each blade of grass was manicured the way he wanted it. It was by far the nicest yard on the block, and that’s exactly what Connor wanted—to be the best. He wanted everyone to want what he had.
He was selfish—he still is.
“Stop it, Connor. I said I’m coming. Go talk to the officers like a rational human being.” I need him to handle his shit for five damn minutes so I can figure out what my next move is going to be. Considering I have no place for Laney to go, my options are limited.
To get to Connor, we have to pass the hospital. Maybe I could take her to Garrett’s office, but if he’s in surgery, I can’t leave her all alone. All of it would
take time to figure out—time I don’t have.
“I’m not fucking talking to the cops. They’ll haul my ass in before you even talk to Vanessa.”
“I’ll talk to them when I get there.”
“Forget it. I gotta go, Megan. Tell Laney I love her.”
“Where are you going?”
He doesn’t answer me. Instead, he tries to rub more salt into my wounds.
“I loved you so much, Megan. I loved you more than any stupid piece of paper. I loved you more than the fucked up system that said I needed it to be your husband. Why couldn’t that be enough?”
“Connor,” I beg, as I land on my knees next to the bed. “Don’t do anything stupid. Just hang on until I get there.”
“There’s an officer on the porch. He’s going to break down the damn door if I don’t open it.”
“Talk to him. You have to.”
“I gotta set you down for a minute, Megan,” he says in a rush.
I don’t want him to stop talking to me, but it’s only a couple of seconds before he picks the phone back up—only now, he’s hyperventilating.
“Connor? Tell me what’s happening.” I can’t let him hang up.
“I gotta go.”
“Where? Did you let the officer in?”
“No, I fucked this up. I gotta go.”
“Stay on the phone with me. Please.” My whole body is trembling and all I can do is sit here on the carpet and beg him to listen to me. I’m shaking too bad to drive, and I can’t take Laney near him. Not when he’s this out of control.
“Tell me you love me one more time.”
“Connor, stop it.”
“Tell me, Meg.”
The lie slithers its way up my throat. “I love you, Connor.”
But is it a lie? Or is it the truth?
There’s no pause—not an ounce of hesitation, and the gunfire is immediate.
Connor pulled the trigger.
Garrett
TIRED AFTER THE PERFECT NIGHT with the perfect woman, I play the music in the operating room a little louder than usual. Nurse Kelly gives me a look, one that says, ‘I know what you’ve been doing all night.’
If I wasn’t so damn happy about it, I might give a shit. But not today.
Today, the only thing I care about is getting through my cases, keeping the promises I made to my patients, and then getting back to bed.
Leaving Megan under the covers wasn’t easy, especially considering how much she’s impacted my life since we’ve reconnected. I’m almost positive what we have is meant to be—like when she’s ready, she could actually love me.
I feel it dangling from her lips each time she kisses me. I see it in her eyes when she stares into mine. I hear it when she’s wrapped around me and finally lets go.
She’s everything, and I never want to go back to waking up alone.
“Dr. Kristoff?”
I glance at Kelly, realizing she’s waiting for me to take the staple gun out of her hand. “Sorry.”
“Late night?”
“Good night.”
We’ve been working together long enough to be able to read each other pretty well. So, I figured Kelly would be able to see right through me this morning. While I try to keep my private life to myself at work, today it doesn’t bother me that she knows.
“I figured,” she says with a smile. “You usually grumble about knees, but you haven’t made a peep about this one for almost two hours.”
I usually grumble because surgery is like trying to put a puzzle back together without all the pieces. Every human body has the same parts, but those parts all wear differently—especially when your patient is an invincible teenager with dreams to play in the NFL.
Regardless of the damage that’s been done, the patient expects to be as good as new once they’ve had time to heal. And within reason, that’s the promise I always try to make.
Today, I’m able to keep my promise, because despite how tired I am, today’s procedure couldn’t have gone any better.
“He’s all yours,” I tell the nursing staff as I remove my gloves and head to the sink.
On the walk back to my office, I stop for some coffee—desperate for anything that’ll give me a push through the rest of my shift.
With a fresh cup in hand, I’m ready to sit down and relax for a little while. But the stack of yellow papers piled on my keyboard—seven missed calls from Vanessa and Grace, are more than enough to raise a red flag.
My secretary adds another slip to the top of the pile. “More?”
“The phone’s been busy this morning, Dr. Kristoff,” she says with concern in her voice.
“Did either of them say why they keep calling?”
She shakes her head and I can tell she wishes she had been able to ask for details. But personal calls are just that, personal. On a normal day, I don’t get any, and it’s not like my sister to blow up my work phone.
Pulling my cell out of my back pocket, I turn the ringer back on and check my messages, listening to the lone voicemail first. Expecting it to be my sister, I’m shocked when it’s Laney’s voice I hear on the other end of the line.
“G,” she says around a tiny whimper. “Mommy needs a doctor. She’s on the floor and she won’t stop crying. I’m scared.”
My gut instinct is to log into the hospital computer system, checking to see if Megan’s in the emergency room.
While I wait for my computer to load, my fingers hover over the keys. The second I spot the blinking cursor, I type in Megan’s name.
Nothing.
I check under her maiden name, just in case she’s using that again. When that doesn’t come up either, I breathe a little bit easier and dial Megan’s number.
After the fourth ring and still no answer, the call goes straight to voicemail. Tired of playing phone tag, I scroll through my contacts and find Grace’s name.
“Garrett, thank God,” she says in a rush after only one ring.
“I just got out of surgery. What’s going on? ”
She pauses and the silence makes the sinking feeling in my gut explode.
“You should sit down for this,” she tells me.
“I don’t want to sit down. Where’s Megan? Laney said she’s sick.”
“Is that G?” I hear in the background.
“You have Laney?” I ask as I try to put the pieces together.
How could Megan have gotten so sick so fast? Other than being tired, she was fine when I left the house—happy even.
In a low whisper, my sister says, “Laney’s been asking for you since she got here, Garrett. I can’t get into details with her so close, but you need to go home. Vanessa’s there with Megan and the police.”
“The police?” Right away, all I think about is Connor getting to my girls. And it scares the ever loving fuck out of me. “Did he?” I ask her, not even wanting to say it out loud.
“No,” she says, leaving no room for doubt. “They’re both okay. Laney’s going to hang out with me for a little while and Megan’s at the house. That’s where you need to be right now.”
“I need to find coverage for the rest of my shift, but I’ll leave as soon as I work it out. If you talk to Megan, tell her I’m coming.”
“I will. Hold on a sec.”
I’m still so fucking confused, but I type out an email to the department, telling them about a family emergency in as few words as possible, mostly because I don’t have much information to give them. Megan may not be my wife, and Laney isn’t my daughter, but they are my family in every way that matters.
I hear a door close and then Grace says, “I snuck in the bathroom. Before you go over there, Garrett, there’s something you need to know. I can’t send you there blind.”
I’m listening as I type, trying to hit the right keys even though my head is all over the place. “What, Grace? Just tell me. I’m messaging the on-call doc now. I can’t leave until I hear from him.”
“You’re going to lose your mind as soon as I tel
l you, but I don’t want you driving like a bat out of hell to get to Megan, okay?”
“Say it already.”
“Garrett, Connor shot himself.”
For once, I wished I had listened to my sister. She was right, I do need to sit down. My ass barely hits the edge of my chair to keep me from landing on the floor.
“We haven’t gotten any trauma patients.” Because if we had, I’d be the one taking Connor to surgery—that can only mean one thing.
“He’s dead, Garrett. He didn’t make it.”
I stare at my computer monitor, watching the screen saver go crazy.
Staring at it long enough to make my eyes cross, I blink away the colors. “Are you absolutely sure he’s gone?” I ask, still not believing Connor would take his own life.
“I’m positive.”
Though Connor and I were never close, we grew up together. Despite his shitty choices and complicated family life, deep down he wasn’t a terrible person. Megan wouldn’t have tried to salvage her marriage if he was. And they wouldn’t have created a little girl so beautiful, her halo shines everywhere she goes.
His sudden death makes me realize how little I really knew Connor and how little I understood what he was facing.
The Connor from high school, he’d never have walked away from Megan. He would have fought until the very end, just like he fought me for years, doing his best to keep me away from his girl.
No matter how angry he’s made me, I never wished him dead—because by ending his life, he just buried his family’s.
“Are you okay?” my sister asks when I don’t respond.
“I’m shocked—that’s what I am.”
“It gets worse, Garrett.”
“Worse? What could possibly be worse than that?”
She takes a deep breath and says, “Connor was on the phone with Megan when he did it.”
“Tell me you’re joking, Grace.” Gripping the edge of my desk, I wait for her to tell me this is all one big joke. That everything is fine, and I can go back to daydreaming about my night with Megan.
“I wish I was.”
“Put Laney on.”
“Are you sure you want to do that right now?” she asks with hesitation.
“Yeah, put her on. I need to hear her voice.”
