"He said he’d promised you something and he wasn’t letting you out of his sight." She snorted as she helped me to pull on the pants. She evidently didn’t believe it.
Wow. He really did keep his promise. I still owed him for a lot. "Then I should thank him, when he gets back." My voice was fainter than I wanted it to be.
"No!" She was vehement. She picked up my hairbrush and set to work on my hair. "Don’t trust him. The way he looked at you...When I changed your dressings, the way he just stared at you, without any emotion at all. He didn’t look angry or upset or even interested, like he cared that you’d been hurt. It wasn’t normal." She cleared her throat. "We’ve all been really hoping you’d recover, with all you’ve been through. All the staff on the ward, I mean, and in the ED. We don’t want your boyfriend making life difficult for you, when you’ve been through enough." Her expression held dire consequences for Nathan.
I was at a loss for words. Hadn’t I already noticed that Nathan’s treatment of me was far more clinical than the brand of charm he used on the nurses? Of course his behaviour would seem strange, if they thought he was my boyfriend. "He does care that I’ve been hurt. It’s...complicated." I tried to be honest, which also meant incredibly vague.
"If you don’t want him here, all you have to do is say and he’ll be thrown out of the hospital. He won’t be allowed back in." She smacked the brush down hard on the bedside table. She looked and sounded like she’d like to do something similar to Nathan.
I was touched that the hospital staff would be so kind to me, especially as I still flinched when they actually, physically touched me. "He’s only here because I want him to be," I told her carefully. "If I didn’t want him here, I’m sure he’d go home without you all needing to go that far." I paused, registering her disappointment at not getting to evict Nathan. "But it’s wonderful to know that if I needed help, you’d do that for me. Thank you."
We both saw Nathan coming up the corridor and she left the room quickly, not saying another word, though she definitely looked daggers at him.
Part 28
Nathan looked hesitant as he came back in, but he didn’t back out. He took me downstairs and made sure I was seated at a table in the coffee shop, before asking what sort of coffee I liked.
Rather than betray my limited knowledge of coffee, I asked him for a cappuccino. I could count on one hand the times I’d asked someone else to make me a coffee. To me, coffee meant whatever instant blend was available, mixed with enough sugar and milk to help me choke the bitter brew down.
He didn’t ask me about cake and I wondered if he’d forgotten about it. Or is he one of those domineering men who orders for you because he feels girls are too helpless to make their own decisions? I was betting on the first option.
I looked around. The cafe was perhaps a third full. I wasn’t the only patient there, though I was probably the only patient who wasn’t wearing pyjamas. There were a few people in the same scrubs I wore, but their name badges identified them as staff who were supposed to wear them. I couldn’t suppress a sigh and looked away.
I’ll get there, I told myself. I’ll go back to uni and one day I’ll get there. All I have to do is recover so I can.
I closed my eyes and listened to the music over the speakers. It was an old song, something cheerful. I tried to remember the words, but the sound of the coffee machine hissing drowned out the music.
I looked over at the counter. It was Nathan’s turn.
He ordered and paid for something, then came and sat across from me, empty handed and smiling nervously. "They’ll make the coffee and bring them out together."
"So, what kind of cake did you get?" I asked brightly.
He looked rueful. "I don’t know."
Puzzled, I opened my mouth to ask a question that began with how...
He cut me off. "I didn’t know what you wanted, so I got a bit of everything. There wasn’t much to choose from." He looked apologetic.
Right on cue, a waitress came with a fully loaded tray and started putting plates down on our table. Some kind of cheesecake, something that looked like an overgrown chocolate brownie, some sort of tart that was covered in strawberries... and two frothy cups of coffee.
"Decaf cappuccino?" she asked, waving the hot drink dangerously close to me.
"Mine," Nathan said quietly, indicating the space on the table in front of him.
Decaf? You don’t want any caffeine? Odd, I thought, avoiding looking at the diabetic coma waiting to happen, spread across the remainder of the table.
I looked down at the coffee the waitress set in front of me, trying to work out how best to drink it. Maybe if I turned it this way, I could get both hands around it. If I was careful, I might be able to do it, but I’d get froth on my face...
Nathan unwrapped a straw and stuck it in my coffee.
I looked at him. He just smiled and picked up a cake fork. "So, which one would you like first?"
I reached for the plate with the strawberries at the same time he did. I expected a fight, but he held the edge of the plate with one hand and sliced a bite off the cake with the other.
My heart sank. I couldn’t handle a cake fork yet.
Nathan hadn’t missed my expression. He held the fork out to me, cake first. Like that first bite of egg, I took it.
"Is it good?" he asked, taking the fork to the cake again.
"Yeah," I admitted, my mouth full. I tried to cover it with a bandaged hand.
He popped the next bite in his own mouth. "You’re right," he agreed.
He set the fork on the table, the tines resting on the edge of his saucer. Picking up a clean fork, he loaded up another bite. "More?" he asked with a smile.
He waited until my mouth was full before he asked. "So, when you were sitting here with your eyes closed and your mouth open, what were you thinking about?"
He was watching me, I realised. I waited until I’d swallowed before I spoke again. "The music playing on the radio," I told him.
He looked surprised for a moment, then sat, listening.
I did, too. The song had changed – now it was some perky boy band and the song involved frequent use of the word beautiful. My memory stirred faintly. It had been a long time since I’d heard any music. Something called One Direction?
Nathan asked me if I knew the song, a kind smile on his face.
This isn’t my style of music and you’re not going to stereotype me that easily, I thought furiously. "No," I lied smoothly.
His teeth ticking against the tines, Nathan swallowed another bite of cake. "So, what sort of music do you like?"
Mine, I thought but didn’t say. I like the music that comes into my head and feels so great when I get to play it...but it’s been a long time since I’ve heard any music and it’ll be a while until I can play again...but I will! I will!
I tried to gather my drifting thoughts. "I like Powderfinger," I offered.
He smiled. "Me, too. Baby I’ve got you on my mind."
I froze at what sounded like a bad pick up line, staring at him.
His eyes widened as he realised what he’d said. "That’s my favourite one of their songs. Baby I’ve got you on my mind. What’s your favourite?"
"Burn your name," I said immediately. Because it’s the most fun to perform...
He looked confused. "I’m not sure I know that one."
I replied, without thinking, "It was one of the last ones they released. The one that goes:
"Gonna burn your name right across the sky
So I never forget what the feeling’s like..." I clamped my mouth shut before I went any further. People were starting to stare at me.
Oh hell. The pain medication must be messing with my head. I just started singing in a cafe full of people...
Even Nathan stared at me. "You sing really well," he managed to say.
"Thanks," I replied, as politely as I could. "Your turn. What music do you like?"
"Um, my favourite band at the moment is Evanes
cence." He sounded hesitant.
"They’re good, but very dark," I replied, closing my eyes. "I think if I was dying, I would want the last song I heard to be one of theirs. If I were to commit suicide, I would definitely be playing one of their albums."
I opened my eyes to find Nathan staring at me again, more worried than ever. What did I say? I thought a moment. Oh shit. Pain drugs are definitely messing with my head and my inhibitions.
"But I wouldn’t say they’re my favourite," I finished lamely.
He grabbed my hands and held them on the table, looking into my eyes with a fierce intensity. "Why would you say that?" he blurted out, his eyes wide with horror.
I tried to sound dismissive. "I studied music at school and there was a section on music in soundtracks. We had to assign songs to specific scripts. My group got some action movie where the hero sacrifices himself at the end and we picked an Evanescence song for the death scene." I shrugged. "The teacher didn’t like ours much. The group that got the best mark picked Bohemian Rhapsody."
He looked confused again. "They picked what?"
It was my turn to stare. "Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody. You have to know it – it’s a classic." I’m going to have to sing this one too, I thought. At least this one’s quieter... I took a deep breath and tried to be as quiet as possible.
"Is this the real life –
Is this just fantasy –
Caught in a landslide –
No escape from reality –
Open your eyes
Look up at the skies and see –"
Comprehension dawned on his face, but his eyes were still wide. He seemed unable to think of a single thing to say. To buy himself time, he lowered his fork toward the cake plate in front of him.
He’d eaten the last bite of cake, without realising it. I watched him try to cut another bite with his fork, but it only scraped the empty plate. He looked down in surprise.
"Do you think we have time for another round before the staff upstairs realise I’ve kidnapped you and decide to report you missing?" He had a cheerful smile on his face, his eyes already straying to the cafe counter.
Did he realise what he’d said? That he was responsible for my injuries? I felt the fury build. If it’s true, I’m going to kill you, but first, I’m going to kick you under the table so hard...
I drew my foot back under my chair, ready to deliver a kick that would help him hit the high notes of any song – even Bohemian Rhapsody.
He looked back at me, still smiling as he waited for an answer to his question. It took a moment before it registered in his head what he’d said. His expression slid from smiling back to horrified and he closed his eyes in mortification.
"Oh God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to..." he babbled.
It was a fucking pick-up line. He’s fallen for me. He’s fallen for me so hard that when he turned on the charm, he managed to forget what I look like now and what happened to me.
I could feel the laughter bubbling up inside me, as I broke into a grin and carefully placed my feet flat on the floor.
He opened his eyes again and he was absolutely transfixed. He seemed unable to stop staring at me, a battered girl with so many bandages I had to wear surgical scrubs instead of real clothes. Mr Sleazy Roommate, in love with a well-wrapped mummy.
I lost it laughing. It felt so good, after so long. Even my face felt lighter.
I realised that the hospital staff a few tables over were staring at me, too, looking concerned. I managed to get control of myself eventually, but Nathan didn’t take his eyes off me.
I looked down at my lap, willing the hospital staff to leave me alone. I’m fine, I’m fine, he just made a funny joke...
I kept my voice as low as I could. I told him I’d had enough cake for now and I wanted to go back to my hospital room.
I heard his voice, talking too fast for me to understand half of it, as we went back upstairs. It sounded like he was just letting off pure nervous energy.
To think he charms the nurses as easily as breathing.
As he was about to help me back into bed, he paused to take a deep breath and close his eyes before he touched me. His hands were as careful and decorous as ever, not even lingering as I half expected him to. Mr Sleazy Roommate, the perfect gentleman.
I could feel the smile lifting my lips, now light as air.
Nathan was looking at me, a question in his eyes.
What did he ask me? Oh, if I wanted more cake. Yet his eyes were offering far more than cake. Everything. Longing that I'd accept his offer of himself.
I smiled at him. Two can play at this game, Nathan, and I’m holding all the cards.
I could have been answering either question.
"Perhaps, Nathan," I told him, still smiling. "But not before tomorrow."
He opened his mouth, as if he wanted to ask which question I was answering, but he couldn’t say the words.
I tried to sound rueful. "I’ll be sick if I have any more cake today." I dare you to ask me the other question, the one that’s not about cake.
He smiled uncertainly. "Me, too," he said nervously.
I’ll bet, my queasy roommate.
Part 29
Dark – Mike – Simon – Knife – Fighting – Police
I woke in the dark, not sure why.
There was no light – just rapid breathing. Not mine, either.
"Help me. Get me out of here," I said, hoping it was Chris.
No response.
I held my breath, waiting.
The rapid breathing didn't change. If anything, it grew faster and louder.
I couldn't see him, only hear his panting.
"Are you going to hurt me?" I demanded. I reached into my pocket for the Card, going straight for the knife.
I felt the bump as his scraping steps hit the side of the mattress. He gasped in surprise.
Too close. "ARE YOU GOING TO HURT ME?" I shouted, scrambling up.
Something brushed against my chest, before fingers grasped at my breast.
I slashed forward with my knife and met resistance.
"What the fuck? She's free and she has a knife?" An unfamiliar voice wailed. “She stabbed me! My son’s a police officer, I’ll have her arrested for attempted murder...”
Behind him, the door flew opened, dim light framing a bulky shadow.
Part 30
"Cancellation in theatre…"
I blinked and focussed on the woman hovering above me. Her name badge told me her name was Claire and she was a CN, if the theatre uniform hadn't told me that already.
"They've moved your skin graft up to this morning," Claire the clinical nurse told me, pressing her lips together. I nodded and she left.
Time to heal some of the scars. This means I'll be allowed to leave hospital soon, if my skin's healed enough to start using it for grafts on the bits that haven't…
I both heard and smelled breakfast approaching. Hunger wasn't hard to ignore, especially if I could have breakfast vicariously through Nathan. I looked over at him, hoping he'd chosen bacon and eggs.
"I won't have any," he told the lady from catering.
"Why not?" I asked, disappointed.
"I don’t want to throw up on the operating theatre floor," he replied.
But you don't need surgery – just me. "You mean you’re coming in with me?" I blurted out. It still didn't make sense. I knew he'd been a med student, too – and he wouldn't have lasted past first year if he threw up at the sight of blood, like Jason did.
Nathan looked shifty. "They'll put you under…"
Unconscious on an operating table, alone. "Fuck." I'd forgotten grafts are done under a general anaesthetic.
Nathan's warm hand on my wrist brought me back to the present. "I'll be there. I’ll scrub up and watch over you as you sleep until your eyes open in Recovery."
He sounds like a perverted stalker. I told him so.
He laughed and I joined in, but there was no humour in mine. I knew he heard i
t. "You're going to be fine. I'll make sure of it."
He didn't know how relieved he made me feel. Nor would he, if I could help it.
Part 31
Nathan’s shouting roused me from my nightmare. I caught the words, "Leave her alone!" and I realised the hands gripping my shoulders weren’t his. Then the hands were gone and I fell back against the bed. The impact jolted the breath from my lungs.
I struggled to bring my head out of the dark nightmare and back to the bright hospital room. I took an inventory as I lay down, trying to orient myself.
There’s the ceiling light, there’s Nathan to my right, shouting at someone. On my left is the wash basin, which has two bunches of flowers in it, still wrapped in florist’s paper. I looked further along the bed and saw a worried face I hadn’t seen in a long time – a face I never expected to see visiting me in hospital. Jason.
Jason said something, his eyes on me, but I couldn’t hear him over Nathan’s shouting.
I didn’t expect what happened next, though maybe I should have. Nathan took a swing at Jason and his fist connected with Jason’s jaw. Jason’s response was to ball up his fists and aim a punch at Nathan. His face, his hands. That's my fucking lead guitarist and vocalist. NO!
In my head, the dark nightmare I’d been woken from was happening again in this brightly lit room. I shook myself, gritted my teeth and fought not to scream at the pain as I stood up. This will end, or so help me, I will stick you both in a head lock as long as I can stay conscious.
Step after agonising step, I crossed the room and shoved between them. I was so close to Nathan, his shirt brushed my back, but I faced Jason. Nathan won’t hurt me, but for Jason to lose control like this, who knew what he would do?
Jason’s fists stayed up, as if he was going to hurt me, or at least push me out of the way to get to Nathan.
"Don’t you dare touch me." I don’t think I’d ever been this angry with Jason.
His hands flew up in surrender as he backed away. His fingers look intact; his face will bruise, but there’s probably no harm done. I kept my glare on him for a few more moments.
Necessary Evil of Nathan Miller Page 7
