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Private Affairs

Page 12

by Jasmine Garner


  I laughed as I answered the door for the delivery driver- I was piping hot and ready for Wes, too.

  But I had to keep it in my pants for at least half of the night; Wes and I had business to take care of first. I wanted to get the paperwork for the grant filed as soon as possible.

  By seven thirty, his pizza was cold. I called him for the fifth time, and went to his voicemail for the fifth time.

  I plopped down on the couch and took a bite of pizza, immediately tossing the rest of the slice back in the box- my appetite was gone. Was I being stood up?

  The first thing I noticed was the sound. A loud crash that rang in my ears. Sharp pebbles sprinkled my cheeks and forehead as the living room window shattered in my face. I stared at the brick lying on my floor for a long time before I could process how it got there.

  I jumped off the couch, wincing as I stepped in a pile of glass and backed away from my broken window.

  The whistling evening breeze echoed through the gaping hole as I looked through it and into the darkness. I knew I needed to grab my cell phone, but I was paralyzed in shock. The brick had crashed a few inches in front of my face; whoever tossed it through the window had every intention of hitting me.

  And I couldn’t see if they were still out there.

  Who would do such a thing? Suddenly, I felt exposed in the gaping silence of my living room. Was this random, or was someone after me? I shifted my weight and cringed as the shards of glass dug in my foot.

  After taking a shaky breath, I hobbled to the coffee table, snatched up my phone, and hobbled back away from the window.

  I called Wes, hoping he was on his way.

  “Where are you?” I hissed into his voicemail. “Someone just threw a brick at me, and I need you here. Call me back!”

  After thirty seconds, I couldn’t wait any longer. I dialed Kevin’s number. He was working, so I didn’t know if he would answer, either.

  “Hello?” I exhaled once he answered on the first ring, tears finally coming to the surface now that I didn’t have to deal with the situation alone.

  “Kev!” I cried. “Someone threw a brick through the window. I almost got hit. I-I don’t know what to do. My foot’s bleeding, and the window is broken. I haven’t called the cops, I don’t know-”

  “Alright, calm down. I’ll be right there.”

  “Aren’t you in the middle of a job?”

  “I just started; I’ll get it rescheduled. Be there in twenty minutes.”

  My foot was throbbing by the time he arrived. I hopped to the bathroom for a pair of tweezers, but couldn’t bring myself to remove the glass.

  While waiting for Kevin, I put my phone to my ear again, calling Wes. He still hadn’t shown up.

  “Wherever you are, you can stay. I needed you and you’re too busy to even respond to me. If you thought you were going to come in here at midnight for a booty-call, you were wrong. It’s okay, though. As always, Kevin is here for me. Fuck you.”

  Kevin crashed through the front door, his eyes wild as he looked from me, to the broken window, to my foot. He rushed to my side, taking the tweezers from my hand.

  “What the hell happened? I thought you said Wes was coming over here today?” He asked, walking into the kitchen.

  I shrugged. I was already in tears from hysteria, I couldn’t cry over Wes’s AWOL-status as well.

  “He’s not.”

  Kevin returned from the kitchen with a wet rag. He placed the warm rag on my foot, blotting away my caked-on blood. Once it was gone, he gently picked out the glass from my foot.

  “Well, I walked around outside. There’s no sign of anyone and no strange cars out there. Maybe it was the wrong house?”

  “I was on the couch right by the window. Whoever it was could see me when they threw it. We should call the cops.”

  “We can, but what are they going to do? We can’t even begin to figure out who did this.”

  “So what are we going to do, then?”

  He shrugged. “Definitely getting some security cameras installed. That way if it happens again, the police can actually take steps to help us.”

  “You’re right; until I have an inkling of who did this, there’s no need.”

  Did Steven go on another drunken bender? Was this his way of telling me he was sick of dealing with my attitude towards him? Or did Wes talk to Vivian about my disapproval of her? Maybe she decided it was time to fight for her man.

  Either way, I was scared out of my mind. I looked at Kevin through my tears, taking comfort in his presence. I didn’t think I was a complicated person. I was polite to everyone I came across, I didn’t have any known enemies, and all I wanted was to be happy. And now someone was after me, and I had no idea why.

  He removed the last piece of glass and put the rag back on my foot, dabbing away the fresh droplets of blood.

  “Geez, did you jump on the pile of glass? Some of these cuts are deep.”

  “I wasn’t paying attention.”

  “Let me grab a bandage.”

  “Thanks,” I said to him once he wrapped my foot up.

  “Go relax in bed and prop this up on a pillow. I’ll take some pictures of the damage just in case we need it for later, and clean up the glass on the floor and board up the window. I’ll get a new one in the morning.”

  I pinched his cheek with a smile, my heart finally starting to slow down. “My handy Kevin. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  After texting Amira to let her know I wasn’t going to be in the next day to give my foot a chance to heal, I flipped on my TV in my room, trying not to think about the fact that it was almost eight thirty, and Wes still hadn’t called.

  12

  Amira came by the next day after work to check on me. It was incredibly sweet of her, but her efforts were lost on me. Wes still hadn’t called, and my initial rage was now overwhelming concern.

  “Can you walk on it?” she asked.

  I nodded. “Yes, just hurts like all hell. I’ll be in tomorrow, though.”

  “No, no. We have it covered. We need you at one-hundred percent to chase after these kids all day.”

  “Thanks, girl. On the plus side, I did get the grant proposal finished.”

  “Great! Did Wes help you?”

  I shook my head. “No. But anyway, it’s submitted.”

  We didn’t have the letter of recommendation, but I submitted it anyway. We’d survived this long without Wes’s help, and we’d continue to do so.

  She blew out a breath. “And now we wait.”

  I was glad she didn’t ask why Wes didn’t help me with it. I felt embarrassed at my outburst on his voicemail from the day before; I was afraid and took it out on him. Although he was incredibly rude for standing me up, I didn’t need to leave that message. And now, him standing me up was the least of my worries as I still hadn’t heard a peep from him. He told me to think about taking a break, but maybe he’d made the decision for us.

  After Amira left, I hobbled out of my room for the first time since the incident. I looked over at the window and it was as if nothing happened. Kevin replaced it with the skill of a professional. He smiled when he saw me round the corner.

  “How you feeling?”

  I shrugged, shaking my head. “Who would’ve thought such tiny pieces of glass could do so much damage?”

  “You can go back and rest. I also installed a few cameras outside; I’ll show you how to work them later. Do you need anything?”

  I bit down on my lip, nervous as if I had to ask permission for my next move. “You’re going to be mad at me, but I’m heading out.”

  He lifted an eyebrow, but if he was upset, his face didn’t give it away. He knew exactly where I was going, so I didn’t need to tell him and he didn’t need to ask.

  “Alright. Be careful. And call me if you need me.”

  I winced as I pressed on the gas pedal in my car; pain shot up my entire leg as I started driving out the parking lot. I should’ve still been in bed resting,
but I’d royally screwed up and I had to fix it. When I arrived at Wes’s place, his car was there.

  Wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans, I stepped out and went to ring his doorbell. After a few minutes of no answer, I limped to his window and tried to look in. The house was dark, but I knew he was there.

  I rang the doorbell once more, and he continued disregarding my request.

  Sighing, I tried to call him again. As expected, it went straight to voicemail.

  “Look, I’m sorry, alright? I was just afraid, and you weren’t there. I didn’t mean it. But this cold-shoulder thing is getting out of control. Open your door.”

  After a few minutes of pacing in front of his house, I started banging on the door with my hand.

  A neighbor peered out her window from hearing the echoing pounds. Ignoring her, I continued to pound, and I wasn’t going to stop until either Wes answered or the neighbor called the cops to escort me away.

  Tears stung my eyes at my rejection. I’d spent three years living without him. Now that he was back, I couldn’t imagine a day without him. He’d fought for me. He’d searched for me. He never gave up on me, and now the roles were reversed. I wasn’t letting my man go without a fight.

  I glanced over at the neighbor, and I saw the curtains rustle; she was still watching me. Sighing, I got back in my car and left the parking lot. I parked on the adjacent street and walked back to Wes’s street, creeping along the back of the houses.

  I took a deep breath, but no part of me was ready to jump the six-foot tall fence to get in his back yard. But I had no choice. I bit down on my bottom lip to keep from whimpering, pain making my body shake violently as I put weight on my bad foot to hop the fence.

  I landed on my side, the breath knocked out of me. I groaned, rolling in the dirt until the pain passed, eventually getting up to try the basement window. It was locked.

  I tried calling him one more time.

  “If you don’t open the door within the next two minutes, I’m breaking the damn window!”

  He must’ve thought I was kidding, but I wasn’t. I lugged the heaviest stone I could find and threw it at his window.

  As soon as the glass shattered, I stepped inside, images of the window at my house forming in my mind.

  The basement was dark. I went up to the main level, but still heard nothing.

  “Wes?” I walked into the kitchen, a faint sour smell hitting my nostrils.

  There were dishes in the sink, at least a day old. That was strange; Vivian always washed them after dinner.

  “Vivian?” I yelled out with no response.

  My pulse began racing; I was getting worried.

  After checking the first floor, I reached the bottom of the stairs to head up to the bedrooms. His was empty. I walked towards Vivian’s room, and the door was cracked. A light was on, and I could hear music playing. Slow jams.

  I opened my mouth to call out to them, but then shut it. What if they were both in there? The scene felt eerily familiar.

  I stopped walking, bracing myself against a wall to steady my breathing. I shook my head. I didn’t want to know. Images of Wes and my mother flooded my mind so hard, I had to sit down. I slid down the wall, trying to suppress my sobs so they wouldn’t hear me.

  It was my fault. I told him off for the last time. I’d been playing cat and mouse, and he was sick of the games. I’d ruined everything. I rolled back up to my feet, wiping my runny nose on the sleeve of my shirt.

  I turned to leave them be, but decided against it. If it was over, I wanted him to say it to me. I ran away the last time; this time I wanted closure.

  I tip-toed towards the room, slowly opening the door. Clothes were everywhere: a dress crumpled on the floor, a pair of panties on the bed, and a jacket on the nightstand. But I didn’t see any of Wes’s clothes. I stepped in, tripping over one of her shoes.

  In the corner of the room was her adjacent bathroom. I walked towards it, my ears ringing. The light was on. I swung open the door before I could change my mind, gasping when I saw the scene.

  My hand shot over my mouth. “Oh, my God.”

  The toilet seat was lifted up, but the vomit never made it in the bowl. Next to the puddle of vomit was what looked like blood.

  I took a step in the room, covering my nose from the smell as I squatted down to inspect the needle on the floor. Whatever was in it was gone. And so was the liquor in the shattered bottle on the floor.

  “Shit, shit, shit.”

  I jumped up. Vivian was off the wagon. Did Wes catch her in time to save her? Was she dead? Was he dealing with this all by himself?

  “God dammit Wes!” I screamed out as my call went to voicemail once more.

  No matter where our relationship stood, I couldn’t let him go through this alone. He and Vivian were close, and he didn’t need to be alone. My heart pinched in my chest as my unanswered questions pounded in my skull.

  I ran to his office and flipped open his laptop. After Googling “Hospitals near me,” I whipped out my phone again and started going down the list.

  “Hello? I’m looking for a young woman who may have come in there from a drug overdose. Her name is Vivian, and Wesley Hollis would have brought her in. She has red hair, about five foot five…”

  After describing her, the nurse said they didn’t have anyone who matched her description. By the third hospital, I was starting to fear the worst. Just as I started pulling up morgue phone numbers, I got some news.

  “Yes, ma’am, she’s here. But I can’t release any additional information about her condition at this time.”

  I sat up straight in the chair. “Can you tell me what room she’s in? Or can you connect me to the room? My fiancé is there with her, but he’s not answering his phone.”

  “Sure.”

  After the sixth ring, I was about to hang up. I wondered if the hospital phones had caller ID. If Wes saw it was me calling, he was probably ignoring my call. An automated voice finally stopped the ringing.

  “You have reached room 330B. Please leave a message.”

  “330B. 330B,” I said to myself as I headed out the door.

  When I walked out the front door, the neighbor was outside watering her plants. She looked at me with her mouth hanging open as I ran down the street back to my car.

  Twenty minutes later, I crashed through the hospital doors and straight to the elevators. I gulped when I got to the third floor and approached a set of double doors- it was the intensive care unit.

  I rang the doorbell to the nurse’s station so they could unlock the door.

  “Hi, I’m here to visit 330B.”

  She let me in without question, and I thanked her before almost running into the room.

  The room was dimly lit, blinds drawn. The TV was on, but the sound was muted. Vivian’s eyes were closed and Wes was facing away from me, sitting at her bedside.

  “How is she?” I said in a low voice.

  I gasped when he turned to face me. His eyes were bloodshot red, and he had dark circles under his eyes.

  “What are you doing here?”

  I approached, resting my hand on his back. I shot it away when he tensed under my touch. We could deal with that later. For now, it was about Vivian.

  “You scared me. I saw the bathroom and started calling hospitals. Is she okay?”

  He sighed, scrubbing his face with his hands. “I don’t know. She hasn’t woken up yet. They have her in a medically-induced coma.”

  My eyes watered as I pulled up a chair next to them. “How did this happen?”

  He shook his head, leaning back. “She was doing so well. And I don’t even know where she got the drugs from… God.”

  My heart pained for him as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He felt responsible for her. The weight of her decision was all on him. And to think, I’d wanted him to kick her out. He never would’ve forgiven me if I forced him to make that choice. I put my hand on his thigh, not caring that he tensed up again; he needed the connection.
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  “You don’t need to be here.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  The door to the room opened and a nurse entered.

  “We’re going to take her for a CT scan. Shouldn’t take more than twenty minutes.”

  Wes stood and nodded.

  “You look exhausted; let’s go get some coffee.”

  He looked like he didn’t want to come with me, but didn’t want to start an argument in front of the nurse. The elevator ride down to the cafeteria was silent, awkward even. My Wes was gone.

  He paid for our coffees and started walking back towards the elevators. “I’m going to go wait for her in the room.”

  I grabbed his arm. “Wait. Talk to me.”

  His brows creased together. “About what? You made your decision and I get it- you need space. You don’t have to treat me nicely because Viv’s here. I’ll be fine.”

  “God Wes, it was just a stupid voicemail! I’m sorry I said what I said. It was out of line, but I don’t think it’s a bad enough reason for you to completely ignore me. Space is the last thing either one of us needs right now. No matter what, I’m not letting you go through this alone.”

  “What voicemail?”

  “The once I left after the window got smashed in. I’m sorry, I was just upset-”

  He sat his coffee on a table. “Wait, what?”

  I looked at his wide eyes and gasped. “You didn’t get my message?”

  He threw his hands in the air. “No! I tried to call you about Viv, but you had already blocked my number.”

  “What? I didn’t block your number.”

  “Every time I call you, it says you’re unavailable. Doesn’t even go to voicemail.”

  I shook my head. “There has to be a mistake. So, did you block my number in response? Every time I call you, it goes straight to voicemail. I’ve been leaving you messages for the last day.”

  “I haven’t received any missed calls or missed messages from you. None. I thought you made the decision to take a break and responded by blocking me.”

  His face was laced with confusion, and I was sure my expression mirrored his.

  “Pull out your phone,” I said.

  I called him and sure enough, it didn’t ring. His eyes widened as I left him a test voicemail and his phone didn’t respond. He called me as well, the robotic voice saying I wasn’t available.

 

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