What Comes After

by Toppen, Melissa

  “You think so?”

  “I love her,” I admit to Claire at the same moment I’m admitting it to myself.

  I’ve known it’s been there, in the background...slowly simmering. I just don’t think I realized it until the moment Claire asked me. Or maybe I did and I wasn’t ready to emotionally deal with what that meant at the time.

  “Do you love Nick?” I quickly add, hoping to steer the conversation back to her. She’s been pretty hush, hush about the whole Nick thing and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t at least a little curious.

  “I wouldn’t say I love him, but I really, really like him.”

  “Think there might be a future there?”

  “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.” She shrugs. “What about you and Peyton? Think there’s a future there?”

  “Guess we’ll have to wait and see.”

  “Darn it. Sadie’s over there stealing that dog’s toy.” She takes off in her direction. “This conversation isn’t over,” she calls over her shoulder.

  “Never thought it was,” I mutter after she’s long out of earshot.

  ——

  I’ve just said goodbye to Claire and am making my way toward my car when my phone starts ringing. Dragging it out of my pocket, I’m a little confused when I see Henna’s name flashing across the screen.

  “Henna?” I question, lifting the phone to my ear.

  “It’s Peyton,” she blurts, not bothering with pleasantries.

  “What’s Peyton?” I ask, a nervous knot forming in the pit of my stomach.

  “She’s been in an accident. We’re at the hospital.”

  “What do you mean she’s been in an accident? What kind of accident?” I can’t keep the emotion from my voice.

  “She was hit by a car walking across the street.” The instant I process her words I feel the ground sway beneath my feet.

  No, no, no... Not again.

  “How bad?” I force myself to say, though I don’t know how I manage considering it feels like there is a thousand-pound weight pressing against my chest.

  “I... I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean you don’t know?”

  “I mean, I don’t know. I haven’t seen her since they loaded her into the ambulance.”

  “Fuck.” I rip open my car door and quickly climb inside. Moments later, I’m squealing out of the parking lot. “How bad was she the last time you saw her?”

  “She was unconscious and her arm was mangled pretty bad.”

  I pinch the bridge of my nose trying to keep my shit together.

  “I’ll be there in ten minutes,” I tell her, ending the call without waiting for her response.

  My mind races as I weave through the late afternoon traffic.

  What if she dies?

  It’s the question I can’t seem to shake.

  Could I survive losing another person I love?

  And that question in itself holds a million other questions.

  Will I ever get the chance to tell her that I’m in love with her?

  Will I ever get to see her smile again or hear her voice?

  Am I cursed?

  I’ve loved exactly two women in my life.

  Finley, my first love. The girl who taught me so much in the short time she was in my life. The one who changed me in ways she’ll never know. The one who will forever own a piece of my heart.

  Peyton. It’s new but it’s powerful in a way I never saw coming. She’s taught me how to laugh again, how to enjoy the little moments. In a lot of ways she’s brought me back to life.

  I love them both in very different ways and for very different reasons. But the fact still remains that I love them.

  It’s exactly eleven minutes later that I walk into the ER of the hospital. It doesn’t take me long to spot Henna, sitting in the corner of the waiting room with Aaron who has his arm wrapped around her shoulder, consoling her.

  My legs feel like they are dragging large boulders behind them as I make my way toward Henna and my brother.

  As if sensing my presence, Henna looks up, tears forming in her eyes the instant she catches sight of me.

  “Abel.” She pushes out of her chair, wrapping her arms around my middle.

  “How is she?” I ask, hugging her back.

  “The doctor just came out. They’re taking her into surgery.”

  “Surgery?” I release Henna and take a full step back.

  “Tell him the rest,” Aaron prompts, seeming to snap Henna out of her fog.

  “She’s going to be okay,” she breathes.

  “But I thought you said...” I gawk at her, unable to understand why those weren’t the first words she said to me the moment I walked in the door.

  “Her arm is shattered.” Aaron stands, sliding his hand into Henna’s. “They have to go in and try to stabilize it by placing rods and pins.”

  “But she’s going to be okay?” I’m almost afraid to be hopeful.

  “She’s going to be okay,” Henna confirms.

  “I don’t understand. What happened?” I ask.

  “We went to lunch and we were on our way back to Peyton’s office. It all happened so fast. We were waiting at a cross walk. The light turned and Peyton stepped out into the street. I was right behind her, but far enough away that when the car swung around the corner it missed me.” Her chin quivers. “One minute she was rolling up on the hood of the car, the next she was on the ground and I couldn’t get her to open her eyes.” She covers her mouth with her hand to muffle her sob.

  “She’s going to be okay,” Aaron soothes.

  “I know. I know.” Henna takes a deep breath to steady herself. “It was just so scary. And every time I close my eyes I see her laying there. It’s like it’s on an endless loop and I can’t shut it off.”

  “Did the doctor say if she suffered any other injuries?” I ask.

  “A concussion. A couple broken ribs. Some scrapes and bruises.”

  “And the person who hit her?”

  “Not sure.” Henna shrugs. “She was being questioned by the police when the ambulance showed up.”

  “Probably some stupid woman texting and driving, not paying attention,” Aaron huffs.

  “Peyton’s dad said he’s going to call the station in a little bit and see if he can find out more information.”

  “Is he here? Peyton’s father?” I ask, looking around the otherwise empty waiting area.

  “Yeah. That’s how we found out what was going on. They wouldn’t tell me anything until he showed up. He just stepped out to call Peyton’s stepmom and update her. I guess she’s on her way too.” Her gaze darts to something behind me. “There he is.”

  I turn to see an older man with sandy colored hair making his way toward us. It isn’t until he reaches us that I get a really good look at him. He’s about my height, but a bit broader than me. He has Peyton’s eyes, or rather she has his. It’s the first thing I notice when his gaze comes to mine.

  “Abel, this is Chuck, Peyton’s dad. Chuck, this is Peyton’s err... friend, Abel.” She stumbles over what to call me.

  “Sir.” I reach out and take his hand which he immediately shakes.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Abel.”

  “You as well.” I release his hand.

  “My daughter seems quite taken with you,” he tells me, giving me a once over. I’m a little surprised by his statement. I hadn’t realized she had told her family about me. Then again, the subject hasn’t really come up, other than her asking me a couple days ago if I was interested in meeting them. When I said yes, this isn’t really what I had in mind.

  “Well, I’m quite taken with her too, sir,” I admit.

  He nods, an air of understanding passing between us before he turns his attention back to Henna.

  “She’s in surgery now. The doctor said it will be a few hours. If you guys want to leave, I’d be happy to call you as soon as she’s in recovery.”

  “We can stay and keep you company. I wa
nt to be here when she wakes up.”

  “Tina is on her way. Besides, she’ll be out of surgery for a while before they let anyone back to see her. You’ve had a rough day. Go home. Take a shower. Get something to eat. I promise I’ll call you as soon as I know anything.”

  “Okay,” Henna reluctantly agrees, turning to gather her belongings from the chair. “Abel?” She turns toward me.

  “I’m staying,” I tell her bluntly.

  “Maybe you should come with us,” Aaron suggests.

  “No, I’m staying,” I tell him, turning to claim the seat to my right.

  “Okay.” My brother nods, following Henna out of the waiting room moments later.

  ——

  I spend the next four hours in the waiting room of the emergency room. While Chuck and Tina have been able to distract me with some small pockets of conversation, I still haven’t been able to shut my mind off. It’s like it’s been playing the worst-case scenario over and over in my head for hours. The more time that passes, the more anxious I become. To the point that I feel seconds away from crawling out of my own skin.

  I keep waiting for the doctor to walk out and say she didn’t make it. People die in surgery. It happens every day. Even when you think there’s nothing to worry about. I’ve seen the worst-case scenario play out right in front of me. I’ve lived it. And I don’t want to ever live it again.

  By the time the doctor finally does make an appearance, I’m so convinced I know what he’ll say I can barely stand to listen.

  I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. The inevitable but that always follows. Only it never comes.

  According to him, Peyton’s surgery went flawlessly, and while she will have a long road of recovery ahead of her, he sees no reason why she won’t make a full one.

  The better the news, the heavier my chest feels. The weight crushing down on me by the second, making it harder and harder to breathe.

  I don’t know why, or what drives my actions, but one minute I’m standing next to Peyton’s parents and the next I’m in my car, speeding away like my life depends on it.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Peyton

  “Hey.” Henna pops her head in the door, a small bouquet of flowers in her hand.

  “Hey.” I cringe as I shift upright in bed.

  “How are you feeling?” She hesitantly enters the room, setting the flowers on the small bedside table next to me.

  “Well,” I look down at my arm, “I’ve been better.” I laugh, not really sure what else I can do at this point.

  “Peyton, I’m so sorry,” she starts but I immediately cut her off.

  “Stop it. You didn’t see that car and neither did I. Don’t try to find a way to blame yourself for this. Don’t go all Henna on me.”

  A small smile graces her pretty face.

  “Go all Henna on you,” she mocks, seeming to relax. “I saw your dad and Tina as they were leaving.” She gestures toward the door.

  “Yeah, I had to practically kick them out to get them to leave for a little bit. I swear my dad still looks at me like a helpless child.”

  “Because you’re still his child. And,” she quickly adds, “you’re all he has left.”

  “He has Tina.”

  “Yeah, but that’s not the same and you know it.” She plops down on the edge of the bed and angles herself toward me.

  “I know.”

  “So, have you heard from Abel?” she asks, her change of subject more painful than the physical pain I’m in.

  I’ve been here since yesterday and he hasn’t come to see me. He hasn’t called. Hell, he hasn’t even answered the text I broke down and sent him earlier.

  I don’t get it. I know from my dad that he was here the whole time. That he stayed through my entire surgery. But then once he found out that everything was okay, he took off and not one person has heard from him since. Other than Aaron, who could only confirm that he’s fine and would give me no other information. I’m not sure if it’s because there was no information left to give or if it was because he didn’t want to give it.

  “Nope.”

  “What’s his deal, I wonder?”

  “Honestly, I’d like to know the same thing. I mean, why did he even come here in the first place if I mean that little to him?” I let my fear get the better of me and find that it’s easier to resort to anger.

  And boy am I angry. Furious, even. I thought we had more. I thought I meant more.

  “You don’t mean that little. You should have seen him when he got here yesterday. He was wrecked with worry.”

  “So then what happened? Why leave and not even have the courtesy to return a phone call?”

  “Something must have freaked him out. Do you think your dad would have said anything to him?”

  “Chuck Rivers? That man doesn’t have it in him. He would never do that to me. He knows I’m crazy about Abel.”

  “I didn’t realize you had told them. Yesterday I wasn’t sure how to introduce Abel.”

  “They’ve known for a few days. It’s my dad, so I left out most details but he knows I’m happy, and that’s all he cares about.” I pause. “Or at least I was happy.”

  “Hey.” Henna places her hand on my shin and squeezes gently. “Whatever this is, whatever is going on with him, I’m sure he’ll come around and when he does, he’ll have a perfectly reasonable and forgivable explanation.”

  “I don’t have time in my life for people who can’t make time for me.”

  “That’s just the hurt talking.”

  “I don’t care what’s talking. I mean it, Henna. It’s bad enough that I feel like his second choice. The girl he’s accepting because he can’t have the one he really wants.”

  “Stop that.” Henna cuts me off before I can finish my thought. “Just stop. You are no one’s second choice, Peyton.”

  “No?” I question sarcastically.

  “Absolutely not. That man is crazy about you. It doesn’t matter who came before you. It’s the now that matters, and girl, to him you matter a hell of a lot more than I think you realize.”

  “Then why isn’t he here?” I repeat forcefully.

  “I can’t answer that. But, you know Abel. You know that if he’s not here there has to be a reason.”

  “Oh, there’s a reason alright. I’m just not sure it’s a reason I’m gonna like.”

  “My god, did that car knock a few screws out of place?” Henna tilts her head and studies me. “Where is my optimistic, perky best friend?”

  “She got hit by a car,” I deadpan, causing a quick smile to pass over Henna’s face.

  She manages to wipe it clean for all of two seconds before it spreads wide, laughter bubbling in her throat.

  At first I think she’s lost it, but then for some unknown reason, I start laughing too. And it hurts...bad. I clutch my ribs and shake my head, deciding I need to try not to do that again anytime soon.

  ——

  “Have you talked to Abel?” I ask Aaron who helps ease me onto the couch.

  It’s been three days since my accident and while I’m so glad to be home, there’s an air of uncertainty hovering over me that I can’t seem to shake. But I know exactly what, or should I say, who, is causing it.

  “No, sorry.” He frowns, standing upright as soon as I’m positioned comfortably.

  “Not your fault.” I shrug, dropping my head back onto the cushion so I can look up at the ceiling, afraid that if I look at Aaron for another moment I might start crying.

  It’s been an emotional couple of days. As if being hit by a car wasn’t bad enough, Abel’s sudden unexplained disappearance is making an already bad situation so much worse.

  “He’s just...just be patient with him, okay? He’s going through something right now.”

  “I wouldn’t care if the sky was falling.” I lift my head up and meet Aaron’s gaze. “If it were him sitting here,” I gesture to myself, “nothing would keep me from being by his side. Nothing.”

>   “I get that. And I get why you’re pissed. But you and Abel are two very different people. You can’t expect him to always react the way you would.”

  “I don’t expect him to react the way I would. I expect him to react the way any normal person would when a person they care about gets damn near mangled by a car. Guess that tells me where I stand.”

  I’ve looked the other way with Abel, accepted things that I would normally never tolerate. Put myself in situations I’ve purposely avoided my entire life. I did it because he was different and because I was different with him.

  But there has to be a line, doesn’t there? Something that you can’t cross without sacrificing who you are and what you want.

  And I think this might be that for me. I can tolerate a lot of things, but him not being here for me when I need him the most? That I can’t accept.

  “Peyton.”

  “If you’re going to sit here and defend him when he doesn’t have the decency to text me back, don’t.”

  “Aaron,” Henna interrupts, popping out of the kitchen. “Don’t.” She shakes her head, stopping him from saying more. “Will you come help me? I can’t get the pickle jar open.”

  “You can’t get the pickle jar open?” He turns, giving her a disbelieving look.

  “What? Don’t look at me like that. I seriously can’t get it open.”

  “And what would you have done if I wasn’t here?” He smiles, heading toward her.

  “We wouldn’t have pickles with our sandwiches,” she quips.

  I mouth a thank you as Aaron disappears into the kitchen. She replies with a soft smile and a nod before following after him.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Abel

  I peel myself off the couch, the pounding on my door becoming increasingly louder as I cross the living room.

  “Abel. Open up. It’s me,” Claire’s voice calls through the thick wood.

  I unlatch the dead bolt and pull the door open, barely looking at her before I turn and head back into the living room.

  “What the hell?” She shuts the door and follows after me. “I’ve been calling you for two days.” She waits until I reclaim my seat on the couch before continuing, “You can’t do that to me. You can’t just disappear.”