by Nikki Lane
I should have pushed the CALL button and let the nurse deal with him. Instead, I grabbed my purse and followed him out of the room. It was my default setting to come to the rescue of someone in need—even if it meant putting undo stress on my nerves. Shelby called it my biggest character flaw. I just thought it meant I really cared. If I had the money to go to therapy, the psychiatrist would have probably blamed it on abandonment issues related to my disappearing mother. But whatever. I couldn’t help myself but to help.
The nurse practically chased him down the hall. She insisted it wasn’t safe for him to leave.
“Just give me whatever paperwork I need to sign,” he snapped.
After some hesitation, and a few threats of calling Dr. Branson, she finally agreed. Kieran grabbed my hand and we left.
The first ten minutes of the drive were silent. Then the phone calls started. I was driving, so Kieran grabbed my phone.
“Who is it?” I asked.
He ended the call.
“My mom.” He put the phone back in the cup holder.
Another minute later, and the phone rang again.
End Call.
“Kieran!” I said. “Stop!”
“I don’t want to deal with them right now. Just drive.”
“They’re just worried about you. I don’t want them thinking I’m ignoring them.”
The phone rang again. I snatched it up before he had a chance to grab it.
“You can’t talk on the phone and drive,” he said.
Normally, I would agree, but I couldn’t let his family think the worst.
“Hello?”
“Rose, what happened?”
“Kelly,” I said, looking at Kieran for a moment. “Kieran wanted to leave early.”
She didn’t ask to talk to him. She didn’t tell me to turn around and take him back to the hospital.
“I’ll tell my parents,” she said. “Thanks, Rose.” Her tone was dripping with defeat.
The guilt was really starting to jab at me. I had given in to his insane idea without a fight. I could only imagine what his parents were thinking. I was an accomplice. I was just as guilty for the breakout as he was.
“At least they’ll stop calling,” he said.
He reached for my hand but I recoiled. I glanced at his bandaged hand. “What the fuck happened to you?”
“I cut my hand.” He stared down at it.
“No shit. How?”
“I remember a vending machine. I didn’t have my wallet.”
“So you put your fist through the glass?”
“Yeah,” he said with a laugh.
But not a ha-ha-aren’t-I-funny kind of laugh. It was more like a how-could-I-do-something-so-stupid kind of laugh.
We were finally on our street. I couldn’t look at him, too afraid I’d grab him by his throat if I made too much eye contact. We walked in silence, and I made sure to keep a safe distance.
“Can I come in?” he said as I headed for the house.
I ignored him.
“Rose!”
I turned to face him, already at my front door.
He lumbered toward me. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”
“Say what, Kieran?”
“I don’t know…something!” he cried.
I finally managed to get the door open. “I have nothing to say to you.” I tried to close the door, but he held it open with his good hand.
“I’m sorry, okay?”
“Fine, you’re sorry.”
“Don’t do this, Rose.”
“I’m not doing anything.” I walked away from the door, and he followed me inside. “You promised me, Kieran.” The words flung from my mouth like they were loaded with springs. “You left me with the promise that things wouldn’t get out of hand.” My throat felt thick, and the tears stung my eyes. Hiccup. Oh, fuck me.
“I was up all night worrying about you.” Hiccup. “You left it up to me to call your sister and cancel. To make up some lame ass excuse of why you couldn’t be there.” Hiccup.
He closed his eyes for just a moment. “I’ll make it up to her.”
“You’re not getting it, Kieran. I know about Aiden’s anniversary. You almost drank yourself into an early grave.” Hiccup.
He looked away, biting his lower lip. “It had nothing to do with that.”
“Liar,” I said, continuing into the house.
“You don’t understand,” he said, trying to follow me inside.
“You’re right,” I said, stomping toward him. “I don’t. Because you won’t tell me what’s going on inside your head. For whatever reason, you shut me out.”
My heart was pumping the adrenaline through my blood. I needed to move and expel some of the energy or else I would burst. I moved to the dishwasher to empty out its contents. A little ridiculous for the moment, but I couldn’t think of anything else. Now, all I had to do was resist throwing a glass at Kieran’s head. Hiccup.
Kieran took a deep breath before stuttering a few incoherent words. It took him a few seconds, but he finally got the words out. “Just, please, Rose. I’m sorry. Don’t be mad, okay. I hate when you’re mad.”
“Just go, Kieran.”
“Just tell me you forgive me.”
“No!” Hiccup.
“Please, Rose,” he shouted. “I’m not leaving here until you tell me you forgive me.”
“Fine,” I said, “I fucking forgive you. Now you can go on with your life, knowing you don’t have to be responsible for a fucking thing, including yourself.”
I saw the words cut right through him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I pulled another glass and slid it into place inside the cabinet. Pulled another glass and slid it into place.
He stomped over. “Just stop,” he cried.
He guided me away from the dishwasher. I leaned against the counter, relying on it to hold me up. I needed to concentrate my strength on what I was about to tell him. I pulled my arm away, or he let it go. I couldn’t remember. And it didn’t matter. I worked up the courage to look him in the face, but he refused to meet my eyes.
“I’m not doing this again.”
“Doing what?”
“Throwing myself into another relationship where I exhaust myself worrying. I have enough on plate as it is.”
“There’s nothing to worry about.”
“That’s bullshit, Kieran, and you know it.”
“It was stupid to get that drunk. I know. But I’m fine.” And just to prove his point he waved his bandaged hand in the air.
“Fine? Have you looked in the mirror lately? You don’t care that I was up all night worrying about you. You’re selfish, Kieran. And you don’t care enough about how I feel to change that.” I took a deep breath. “And I just think it’s better if…” Another deep breath, a tear escaping from the corner of my eye. “If we broke this off.” I swiped the tear away, feeling the wetness smear across my cheek. My insides burned, an aching that I knew wouldn’t let go of its grip easily.
His eyes glazed over. That familiar faraway stare that put him on a whole other plane. A whole silent thirty seconds—practically a fucking eternity—passed before he said, “I guess that’s it then.”
And that was it. He walked out the door, leaving me without any resistance. I slid to the kitchen floor, the tears blurring my vision, not worrying about how I was going to pick myself back up again.
Chapter 24
The first week after Kieran and I broke up, I crawled into bed, certain I wouldn’t want to ever get out. If it weren’t for work, I would have never left the house. I ignored all calls, even from Shelby. The second week wasn’t much different than the first. As much as I tried, I couldn’t quite throw myself completely into work. I felt out of the groove, like something about me wasn’t clicking. I was glad when that week was over.
I survived the third week and managed to keep my eyes off Kieran’s house every time I drove by. I stopped checking my phone to make sure he didn’t c
all. The pain was still there, a little faded, but strong enough to make the tears fall every now and then. It was hard not to think about him, to wonder what he was up to. He hardly left the house at night, and I hadn’t seen a single person besides him come or go. He even gave up on my lawn. I had to call another landscaper to come and cut it. I watched them work last week and was hit with this weird sense of betrayal, as if the grass knew it wasn’t Kieran doing the work.
My excitement for the new school year had already faded. I came home from work, feeling grateful that I made it to the weekend. I had a bottle of wine with my name on it, waiting for me in the fridge.
After a shower and some comfortable clothes, the pizza I ordered was delivered. I got a large so that I didn’t have to bother cooking for the next few days. I grabbed a few slices and brought the two liter of soda with me to bed. I ate until my stomach was overfilled with cheese and carbonation. I heard my phone ring but ignored it. I snuggled into the bed, the television the only flashing light in the room. The phone rang a few more times, but I didn’t care. My eyelids were growing heavy, and I was looking forward to relieving my racing mind when sleep hit.
I woke up with a start, hearing something in the kitchen. I had a sickening feeling in my stomach accompanied by the sense that I was no longer alone. I shut the television off. The room was pitch black and totally quiet. I threw the comforter over my head, too afraid to move. It was hot under there, my heavy breathing only making it worse.
“Rose?” Shelby’s voice called. “Rose?” She was in the room now.
I stilled, hoping she wouldn’t look under the covers. But that was ridiculous. The bedroom light switched on. She ripped the blankets off me, the cool air hitting my face.
“You scared the shit out of me,” I said.
“Where have you been? I’ve been calling you off the hook.”
“I’ve been here.”
She looked at the empty pizza box on the floor, the half empty bottle of soda sitting next to it. “What is going on in here? This place is a mess.”
I turned on my side. “I’ve been busy.”
“You’ve been too busy to clean?”
I took a deep breath. “I’m going to have to get my spare key back.”
“Not on your life.” She smacked my arm. “Get up. We’re going out.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Come on,” she pouted. “Nowhere special. Just to get a drink. You need to get out of the house.”
I didn’t move, staunch in my first answer.
She stood across from me, tapping her foot. “I’m not leaving here without you.”
* * * *
“Where exactly are you taking me?” I asked when we were in the car.
“Relax,” she said. “Just to get a few drinks with some friends.”
“I changed my mind,” I replied. “Turn this car right around.”
“It’s not happening, Rose.”
I pouted the rest of the ride, mumbling about being happy to just stay in bed all night. When we arrived at the bar, Shelby led me toward a small group gathered at one of the tables. Or more like pushed me like a pirate shoving a prisoner off the plank. They were mostly people Shelby knew, but I recognized one of the girls, Bryce. She and Shelby had some kind of unspoken rivalry, and I was surprised to see her there.
“Let’s get you drunk,” Shelby said when we settled in.
“I thought you said one drink.”
“I lied,” she replied with a cunning smile. “And don’t worry. I’m not drinking tonight.”
A couple shots later and I felt relaxed for the first time in weeks. I got into some weird conversation about pickles with a guy whose name I couldn’t remember. Just as I was about to make my argument on how dill pickles were better than bread and butter, my eyes caught a glimpse of someone coming through the door.
It was Scott. He looked around the bar, and I cowered behind Shelby.
“What’s the matter?” she said.
“What’s he doing here?”
She looked around until she figured out who I was talking about. “I don’t know. I mentioned something about going out tonight.”
“You invited him here? I didn’t even know you were still talking to him.”
“No, of course I didn’t invite him. And yes, he may barely stand as tall as my tits, but he’s got a decent job and isn’t a complete idiot.”
“I beg to differ.”
Scott found Shelby’s face and walked on over. At least he was alone.
“I thought I’d find you here,” he said to her.
“You were looking for me?” she replied in that flirty way.
“Maybe,” he cooed back. His gaze cut to me. “Hey, Rose. Didn’t think I’d see you out tonight.”
“Why would you think that?” That came out too defensive.
“I dunno,” he said. “Just don’t see you out that much.”
“I go out. I go out plenty.”
“Anyway,” Shelby said, butting in. “Looks like we need another round of drinks.”
“Let me,” Scott said, getting up. “Rose?”
“I’ll have another one of these.” I lifted the drink I finished moments ago.
He nodded. “Shelby?”
“Oh, I’m not drinking tonight,” she replied. “I’m the DD.
“It’s about time,” I muttered.
She shot me a dirty look. “You and Rose are on your own tonight. If you need a ride home later, I can give you one.”
“Thanks. I might take you up on that.” He headed toward the bar.
I lounged back in my seat, slurping up the few drops that remained in my cup. When I saw Kieran walk through the door, Shelby had to hold me back from slipping under the table.
No doubt he was there with Scott, and I should have known better than to not assume they were together. Kieran spotted me, almost as shocked to see me as I was to see him. My eyes locked on his, feeling that deep burn somewhere low in my gut. The way he looked tugged at the empty space that was left that day we broke up. I wanted him to come and sit down next to me. I wanted to ask him why he looked so damn good. Why it didn’t look like a truck hit him, like I did. Why he looked like he was moving on with his life, and I was stuck crying on my kitchen floor. He joined Scott at the bar, and a few tortuous minutes passed before he approached the table.
The closer he came the more I forced myself not to look at him. Not to get lost in those emerald eyes that still held the piece of him he wouldn’t share with me.
Kieran sat down at the other end of the table, the available seat next to Bryce, while Scott squeezed a chair between Shelby and the guy who loved pickles. Kieran said hello to everyone on that side of the table, ignoring Shelby and me altogether. I wasn’t going to lie. It hurt. It hurt something awful. I, at least, hoped for some kind of friendship. Maybe something like what we had before. When we were just neighbors with a quirky love-hate relationship.
I watched as Bryce and Kieran got caught up in some secret conversation, her hand touching his arm as she whispered in his ear. He smiled, and I wanted to hurt her for it. I wanted that smile for myself.
“Rose,” Scott called, bringing me out of my stupor. “Here.” He handed me another shot.
I grabbed it greedily and slung it back without waiting for anyone else. I grabbed the one in his other hand that he reserved for himself and slung that one back, too. I could make this pain go away, if only for a few hours.
“Damn, Rose,” Shelby said.
She and Scott stared at me with mouths hanging open.
“What?” I asked, wiping a few drops from my chin. “Isn’t this why you brought me here?”
I was being ridiculous. I knew that. But I didn’t care. I was tired of caring. It was too hard. I had too many plates spinning. Something had to give. I didn’t want to feel anything anymore. Like when your foot falls asleep. You know it’s still there but it’s numb. I wanted to be a numb foot.
“Yeah,” Shelby scof
fed. “Let’s just not have a repeat of spring break.”
I spent the rest of the night talking to Pickle guy, trying to keep my eyes off Kieran and Bryce. She followed him when he went back to the bar. She was there when he sat back down at the table. I was trapped in another dull conversation, and I knew I was being rude. I could feel the hesitation in Pickle guy’s voice as he talked. He was nice, but I just couldn’t focus. What the fuck was he talking about anyway? My stomach started to flop. The back of my throat grew thick. I frantically searched for Shelby, but she disappeared somewhere with Scott, doing God knows what. Pickle guy was still talking. Shut up, Pickle guy!
I felt my stomach churning something wicked. I couldn’t breathe too deep. It was too uncomfortable. I shot up from my chair. Pickle guy looked up at me with wide eyes. I sprinted to the bathroom just in time to hurl my face into the toilet. A disgusting public toilet. I cringed as I dry heaved the last bit. When I was sure that the only thing left for my stomach to do was fling itself out of my mouth, I stood up and wiped my face with a bit of toilet paper.
“Rose?”
I stilled in the bathroom stall, recognizing that baritone call of my name in an instant. I peered out to see Kieran, propping the bathroom door open. He came in and let it fall behind him.
“What are you doing in here? This is the girl’s bathroom.”
“I know that,” he said with a subtle laugh. “Are you all right?”
I ran the cold water from the sink. “I’m fine.”
I tried not to think of the irony of this situation. I had torn Kieran a new asshole for drinking to much, and there I was with my head in a toilet. What kind of person did that make me? A weak one I would say.
“I’ll find Shelby so she can take you home.”
“No,” I said. “I don’t think she’s ready to leave yet.”
“Well, I can take you.”
I looked up at his reflection in the mirror. Even under the shitty fluorescent lights, he was gorgeous. “Are you okay to drive?”
“Haven’t had a single drink all night.”
“Really?”
“Yep.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
