“Seen what, Braeden?”
He sighs. “I don’t want to lie to you.”
“Then don’t.” I get antsy at the silence. “You know what, Braeden, I don’t need to know,” I snap.
“But I want you to,” he says, trying to take a step forward this time. I don’t move back.
“I want you to know that she means nothing to me,” he says only above a whisper. “Nothing.”
“Who is she?”
He swallows. “Someone I’ve slept with,” he admits, shame in his voice.
I can feel tears prick at my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I look off to the side hoping to hide my emotions from him, but the idea of Braeden’s hands on her makes my stomach turn. And I have no reason for feeling this way.
“If she meant nothing to you why was she here? Why did she have her hands on you? Why did you kiss her back?” I ask quickly, my emotions getting the best of me.
“If you had stayed and watched you would have seen me push her away,” he says defeated. I continue to cross my arms and stare at him.
“All I can say is I am sorry, Phoenix. If you just give me a chance…” I interrupt him. I have to end this now.
“I think that it would be better if we were just friends.”
His eyes turn sorrowful. “Friends?” he asks, his tone in disbelief. “Please don’t let this ruin everything.”
“Ruin what?” I ask confused.
“You know what,” he says, his tone becoming harsh.
I shake my head. “We could never be anything, Braeden,” I state, my eyes now looking at the ground. “I was stupid to think we could be.”
“But you said that you felt something for me,” he says, his voice getting louder.
“Please, I beg of you. It was nothing.”
He takes a step closer to me, his body extremely close. I remain silent. He takes a few seconds before speaking again. “I could never explain the way you make me feel,” he starts. “And I still can’t to this day. But something about us is connected. The past few weeks have been incredible. Something inside me lit when we met, Phoenix. And I know it’s the same for you.”
“And how do you know that?” I ask, trying to be stern.
“Because I can see it. You are different around me than you are with others. I know that I make you nervous, but I also know that you feel something for me. Something you have never felt with anyone else.”
I can now feel his breath on my face, his chest rising and falling.
“I can see it now,” he continues. “You don’t let Donovan get within 5 feet of you without flinching and here I am, standing mere inches from you.”
I look up at him, his eyes intense. “It’s too late for me, Braeden. I am broken beyond repair,” I say, my throat tight. “You deserve better. You deserve someone you can touch. Who has the capability to…feel.”
I back away slowly so that I can come out from under this spell his has over me. “Goodbye, Braeden,” I whisper.
Turning around I run back to the hospital, leaving him alone in the frigid cold.
Chapter 24
Braeden
“Goodbye Braeden,” is all I hear as she retreats back to the hospital.
I remain planted, my mind frozen. This wasn’t how we were supposed to end. Things hadn’t even really started. Then I spring forward, my body in full action. When I catch up to her I know that we are extremely close and within the eyes of the security cameras, but I don’t care. I reach out for her hand and lock my fingers in with her, her eyes widening instantly.
“Braeden, they will see,” she says, her voice in a panic.
“I don’t care,” I admit, my tone harsh. “Do you not understand the feelings I have for you?” She remains silent. I hold up both our hands, our finger intertwined.“Tell me you don’t feel that and I will leave you alone. Forever.”
I can see tears forming, her eyes becoming glossy. Reaching up with my free hand I touch her jaw gently and I feel her face lean into it slightly.
“I’m sorry,” I say as I lean into her, placing my lips gently on hers. I keep my eyes open to watch her reaction, noticing that hers close instantly. I wait for her to panic but it never comes. I pull back, her eyes opening instantly. Now I see the fear. The panic.
Shit. Her fingers pull from mind, her fingers tracing the line of her lips. A small smile develops behind her hand.
“I’m so sorry,” she says, her voice in a panic.
And just like that she runs off again.
Chapter 25
Phoenix
Two weeks. It has been two weeks since I have talked to him. I have spent most of that time in my room. Guess I really am a coward. I hear a sigh echo through our room.
“What, Rain?” I mutter from under my comforter.
“Don’t you want to eat something?”
“No, not really,” I respond.
“But…” I flip my covers off, my body now facing hers.
“I really appreciate your concern but getting out of this bed sounds fucking awful right now.”
Rain flinches at my use of vulgar language. Sometimes I swear she acts like my mother. To be honest, I have spent most of my time in my room, wanting to spend as little time out there. Of course I do have to go out at some point, but it’s mostly for food and to show everyone that I am OK. I laugh out loud and Rain instantly reacts.
“What?” she says, a smile on her face.
“Nothing,” I say, shifting back over to face the wall.
Who was I kidding? I was far from OK. But I was used to it.
~
I must have fallen asleep again because when my eyes open the room is completely dark and Rain’s soft breathing reaches my ears. I sit up, pulling the covers off me, my body instantly breaking out into a sweat. Standing up, I stare over to where I know Rain is sleeping and a pain in my gut grows. I know that I have treated her like shit for a while now. She’s the last person that I should be doing that to.
When Dr. Harris took me off my medication, I instantly felt my emotions heighten, everything pissing me off. But the tiredness stayed. Stumbling my way to the bathroom I sit down on the toilet, my bladder feeling as though it’s going to pop. As I sit there I try to count back the days since we talked. As much as I tell myself I won’t think about him, when things get silent he always sneaks into my thoughts. Which is a lot lately. Once I pull away from his kiss I had ruined everything. I saw him a couple times after that, but he never looked my way. He never spoke to me. Why would he? He told me everything. He never lied once and yet I still refused to believe him. As the days stretched on I saw less and less of him. I overheard Donovan and him talking about his medical school so I assumed he was spending more time there and less time here.
When I finished, I got up and washed my hands, splashing a little on my face in hopes that it will wake me up. Feeling along the wall, I walk into the closet and try to grab things from memory. Slipping them on I walk back into the room and hear Rain snoring loudly. It makes me laugh and always amazes me how something so loud could come out of something so small. Opening the bedroom door slowly I peek across the hallway, happy to have the nurses’ station so close. On the wall behind is a rip-away calendar. Looking up I smile. It’s Tuesday.
Braeden doesn’t work Tuesdays. I shake my head, realizing how pathetic I have become. A few days after the incident I found a copy of the employee schedule on the floor, committing it to memory before putting it back. Just as I am about the exit the room a tall figure flashes before me, scaring me instantly.
“Oh, good, you’re awake,” the figure says. I just nod in response.
“If you could please come with me,” he says.
Opening the door more I slip out and then shut it gently, making sure not to wake Rain. I follow behind him, my fingers intertwining in a nervous manner. My mind goes in a million different directions and I don’t notice that he stops, my body ramming into him. I instinctively flinch. He turns around, giving me a wide sm
ile.
“I’m sorry,” I plead.
“That’s quite alright, Phoenix, I know you didn’t do it on purpose.”
He pushes open a door, my heart racing.
“You may sit wherever you like,” he says, ushering me in without touching me. A wave of nervousness comes over me, a feeling I have never had with Dr. Harris before. But I know why it’s different this time. Walking into the room I sit in an over-sized arm chair. It’s the most comfortable thing I have sat in a long time. Shimmying myself so that I sit upright, I watch Dr. Harris walk around his desk, setting some paperwork down. He looks up, giving me a small smile. He starts to make his way over, but stops at a high counter top. I see him pull out some scissors, my heart racing. He continues over, putting on a pair of rubber gloves.
“Is it OK if I sit down?” he asks, pointing to the ottoman across from my chair. I nod. As he sits down I am now eye level with him, it seeming to calm my nerves a bit.
“I am going to remove your stitches,” he explains. “It may pinch, but it shouldn’t cause you any great discomfort.”
I laugh inside. If he really only knew how many times I have had this done. Reaching over gently he takes my arm in his hands, the six stitches displayed outright. He looks puzzled.
“They seem to be a little inflamed for how long it’s been.” I bite my lip, not responding. I’ve always had a thing for picking at things. Stitches and scabs included.
“But the wound seems to be healed,” he says, continuing to snip them one by one. The room falls silent. When the procedure is done he wipes it with an alcohol swab.
“Do you want me to wrap it?” he asks.
I shake my head no. He nods slightly in return. As he goes to get up I notice that he is moving slowly, obviously for my benefit. He walks back over to the counter top and puts his utensils in a sterilizing bucket and washes his hands.
“Are you thirsty?” he asks, walking over to the mini fridge behind his desk. It makes me smile, not having pictured Dr. Harris as a mini fridge guy.
“Please,” I mutter. He looks back in the fridge, shouting out what he has.
“I have sparkling water, iced tea or regular bottled water.”
“Uh, iced tea, please,” I say.
“Good choice.” He smiles as he hands it to me.
“Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome, Phoenix.”
I begin to wonder what he wants. Dr. Harris has never been mean to me but this was a little much.
“Is there something that you need?” I ask, hoping to get a roll on things.
“In particular…no,” he states abruptly. “I just wanted to see how you are, considering I am your attending physician.”
“I’m great, doc,” I say, saluting my tea to him before taking a sip. Mother of God this was good.
“I’m sensing some sarcasm.” He laughs. Ding. Ding. Ding. One point for the doctor. “Perhaps I should reword that, how are you feeling?”
Fan-fucking-tastic. “Much better,” I lie.
“And without the medication?”
“Fine,” I lie again.
“Cause you know there is no shame if you want to go back on it.” I laugh inside. Maybe I should so I can be a zombie the rest of this shit they call life.
“I don’t know,” I say, looking down at my hands.
“Well, we’ll just take it slow, it’s only been a few days since you have been off it.”
“Ok.” Things fall silent again until a phone ringing fills the room, it making me jump.
“Excuse me,” he says as he goes over and silences it. The room falls quiet again. He picks up what I think is my chart. “So, I see that you have been going to all your therapy appointments,” he states, not really to me in particular. “She has quite some good things to say about you, you’ve made quite progress since your first visit.”
If he really only knew how much of it was all bullshit. One could say I was a master of putting on fake faces. He goes to open his mouth again, but is stopped short by the sound of his phone ringing again. I even hear him sigh.
“I don’t mind if you answer it,” I say, hoping to get a small break from talking. He picks it up and answers it.
“Yes,” he states.
I furrow my brow. That’s an odd way of answering his phone. I look at the other side of the room, my eyes finding Dr. Harris’ bookcase. Looking back over at him I realize his back is now facing me. Getting up from my chair I make my way over, running my hands along the spines of them. Most of them are rather thick medical books but when I start to read the titles I realize they are all about psychoanalysis. I grab one at random, opening it up. The text seems like a foreign language, most of them long medical terms. I skim a few pages, the illustrations intriguing.
“OK, Braeden,” I hear Dr Harris mutters underneath his breath, probably because he didn’t want me to hear. I didn’t know if Braeden had told him anything, but part of me knew he did.
“I’m sorry,” I say as I shut the book.
Looking up at the bookcase I try to remember where it went, the once great hole where it sat now closed. Shit. Dr. Harris walks over to me, taking the book from my hands.
“We are never so defenseless against suffering as when we love.” I snap my head up at him. He laughs lightly.
“Freud,” he says, holding the book up.
I look back down, the burn in my cheeks growing.
He slides the book back in its spot but continues to stare at the bookcase as a whole.
“Have you read all these?” I ask, trying to make conversation.
“Yes,” he says turning to me. “My wife used to say I was obsessed.”
My heart drops at the mention of his wife. I forgot her death not only affected Braeden.
“Little did she know it was only research,” he says quietly. I swear I hear his heart break. I mutter a sorry to him, a small smile returning on his lips.
“That’s quite alright, Phoenix, it was a long time ago.”
I continue to scan the bookcase, noticing two smaller books in the far corner, vastly different from the others. Dr. Harris must have noticed and reached back to pull them out, but only chooses one.
“This was her favorite book,” he says handing it to me.
I look down at it. “Gone With The Wind.” The cover is cracked and thin, it apparent that it has been loved for many years.
“She used to sit in the windowsill all day long and read this over and over. She always smiled. It was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”
I can feel my lip start to quiver. Sometimes I forget I am not the only person that has lost someone special.
“She seemed really incredible,” I say, not knowing what else to do.
I go to hand him back the book but he doesn’t reach out for it. “You should read it,” he states. “That is, if you want to.”
I look down at the book, feeling as though I would be invading her privacy. “I can’t do that, it’s hers…I mean yours….”
“She would be honored for you to read it, she was always making everyone else.” He laughs. I couldn’t say no to him with that smile so I just nod.
“I will take really good care of it, I promise.”
“I know you will, Phoenix.”
Clutching the book to my chest I leave his office, our discussion done for the day. When I got back to my room I immediately stash the book away, wanting to make sure nothing happened to it. I don’t know why Dr. Harris has chosen to let me borrow it. Would it hold secrets about Braeden’s mother? What about it had her so entranced? But somewhere in the dark corners of my sick mind, I knew what I was truly doing. I was keeping my connection to Braeden alive without directly seeing him.
After our discussion I immediately went back to bed, not really wanting to do much else. I felt emotionally drained. For once I hadn’t been the only one in the room with painful memories. It was hard to miss the brokenness in Dr. Harris’s eyes when he spoke about his wife. Braeden never to
ld me the whole story about his mother’s death, but he didn’t have to for me to understand the hurt behind it. I miss my father every day, but fortunately my father didn’t choose to leave me. Braeden’s mother had gone willingly, by her own hand. She’d had people that loved her; people that did everything to help her. I had no one. I have no one.
~
When I woke up this morning I felt surprisingly refreshed. The haze in my head was gone, the tiredness vanished. In my new-found happiness, I sprung out of bed and got dressed quickly. Grabbing the book from my closet, I flung open the bedroom door and was greeted by the sunshine coming in from outside. The weather here was always so unpredictable, but I like to think the sun today was just for me.
Bounding for the patio door I push it open, finding a small spot on the ground underneath a tree. I sit down Indian style, the book gently settled in my lap. Somewhere between Scarlett, Ashley, Rhett and Charles, I become lost in their world of love and deceit. Hours passed before I look up. I can feel the weather starting to shift, the warm sun starting to hide behind the thick fog.
I knew it was too good to be true. I can see why this was Sophia’s favorite book. Scarlett is strong, overcoming adversity through brute strength of will. Scarlett is cunning and manipulates men with ease but she is also weak, insignificant things breaking her. But the most important theme of this story strikes me hard. The characters were most successful when they depended on no one but themselves. Did Sophia feel as though no one but herself could make things right?
As I continue to read I feel a figure standing over me, blocking my reading light. A long chill runs down my spine and I hesitate to look up. When I do, I see Dr. Harris standing over me, a crooked smile on his face.
“I see that you are enjoying it,” he states, looking at where my finger is currently bookmarked, more than halfway through the mammoth novel.
“I am, very much,” I respond, looking down at it as well, my tooth gnawing on my bottom lip. He lingers for a moment, making me antsy. I can tell that he is uncharacteristically uneasy as well.
“Did you need something?” I ask, my tone tentative.
A Brand New Ending Page 13
