by Jewel E. Ann
He didn’t.
All he could do was flail in pain. I didn’t know that side to Ronin. He was my rock—more than a rock. He was an unmovable mountain. But … my mountain crumbled right in front of me.
“Ronin, stop! Tell me what to do!”
“Fuck!” He rolled away from me.
I grabbed my phone and called 9-1-1.
“9-1-1. What is your emergency?”
“Send an ambulance! M-my boyfriend is in terrible p-pain, and I don’t know what to do.”
I knew she was asking me questions, but I couldn’t hear her past the pounding of my heart screaming at me, telling me to help him.
I muttered a few barely coherent replies as the room spun.
Yes, he was breathing.
No, he wasn’t responding to me.
Evie.
Evie.
Evie …
Each drumming beat said my name. Do something! But what?
They were on their way. The door was unlocked. I dropped my phone and kneeled on the bed, stroking his hair as he moaned like a tortured animal.
“Shh … they’re coming. Just hold on … they’re coming.” I didn’t think he heard me, but I said the words anyway. I repeated myself again and again, trying so hard to convince my heart to calm down. He would be fine. He had to be fine. I arrived that day in Vancouver.
A destiny.
Fate in perfect form.
We were meant to meet that day, and not for him to leave me. He couldn’t leave me. I think I’d known for months just how vulnerable my heart was to my feelings for Ronin. Sometimes we knew things that we never acknowledge until it was pulled—ripped—from inside of us. If I lost him, there would never be enough stitches to put me back together.
The door creaked open. Voices sounded. Footsteps pounded closer.
I held my breath. The slightest movement threatened to shatter my existence.
My tears dried while I unblinkingly stared at Ronin. They tried to ask him questions. Someone said something to me. I attempted a nod, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t move until they fixed him—fixed him and gave him back to me. That was their job, right?
My job was to love him like no one had ever loved him before. I would do my job, but they had to do theirs first.
Him.
I wanted to spend the rest of my life loving him. Not a memory.
Retrieving my phone from the floor, I followed them out of the condo and called his parents before driving to the hospital.
Victor and Ling made it there before me because I had another breakdown in the car after I parked in the lot by the emergency room.
Roe …
He yelled when they took him away. And they took him away quickly. I felt their urgency rip through my heart.
Ling glanced up at me when I entered the waiting room wearing my bravest face. I wore it for my dad when he had his kidney transplant, and I’d been wearing it a lot during my mom’s chemo appointments.
Holding her hand out to me, Ling smiled. It was sad. She didn’t need to pretend that it wasn’t really bad. I felt certain the haunting cries from Ronin would stay embedded in my heart like shards of glass for eternity.
“Have they figured out what’s wrong with him?” I asked, sitting next to Ling as Victor typed something into his phone.
“No.” She had this odd expression. It was pained, yet eerily calm.
How was she not freaking out?
“I didn’t know what to do. I was so scared. He told me to go home because he didn’t want me getting sick, but I don’t think what he has is contagious.”
“You did the right thing.” Ling squeezed my hand. “Now we wait.”
I released her hand to send Lila a text.
Me: Ronin is in the hospital.
Lila: Oh my god! Why?
Me: He’s in a lot of pain, but we don’t know what’s wrong with him. I’m so scared.
Lila: He’ll be fine. I’m on my way.
Guilt nibbled at my conscience. She didn’t need one more thing to take up her time, fill her mind with more stress and worry.
Me: No. Don’t come. I just needed to tell someone. Since you pray, I thought you could say one for Ronin.
Lila: Already said a prayer for him. And you.
It wasn’t that I didn’t pray. I was raised with religion, but my overly curious, scientific mind made it hard to keep the faith. I liked data, testing, proof … or at least a good probability. After years of lost or wavering faith, I didn’t feel confident that if there was a god, she would listen to my prayers.
Yes, my god (imaginary or not) was a woman.
I said my own prayers too. The unfaithful prayers involved a lot of groveling and apologizing.
If you exist, I’m sorry I lost faith. Blind faith is really hard for me. On the off chance that this unconditional love thing of yours is real, maybe you can forgive my skepticism, and do me this tiny favor of saving Ronin’s life. Thanks … or Amen.
And then … we waited.
One hour later, a doctor came out to tell us they hadn’t found anything, so they were running more tests. I got a little testy about their lack of figuring things out, while Victor and Ling maintained slightly sad yet eerily calm demeanors.
Two hours later, my best friends appeared around the corner of the waiting room. I jumped out of my chair and flew into Lila’s embrace as Graham gave me a sad smile over her shoulder.
“I told you not to come.” I hugged her like she was next on the list of people in my life to have something go wrong with her.
“You’re the most important person in my world. Of course, I came.”
Graham didn’t show an ounce of offense from Lila’s words. And he shouldn’t have been offended. He knew the bond I had with my best friend was unbreakable.
“Thank you,” I whispered on a wave of emotion, just as I released her. Batting away the tears before they fell, I cleared my throat and met Graham’s regretful gaze.
“It’s not your fault.” I dug through my emotions, looking for that brave face again. It had slipped off when I hugged Lila.
Graham returned a hesitant nod.
“There was no way for you to know how bad he felt. When I got to his house, he tried to convince me to leave. You did your part by telling me. Thank you.” I stepped into Graham’s embrace.
“Is there anything I can do?” Graham kissed the top of my head.
Money. He was asking if he could pay for something. He must have been emotionally stunted in a way; it’s wasn’t that he didn’t care. He just struggled with the fact that sometimes there wasn’t anything you could do about certain things, no matter how much money you had to throw at a situation.
“You turning around and bringing Lila to me is everything.”
Graham released me, delivering a hesitant nod.
Lila and I took seats in the waiting room while Graham fetched coffees and food for everyone. His need to feel like he was doing something was admirable and sweet. Sometimes Graham Cracker showed his vulnerability, and it came with a side of generosity. He felt bad for not seeing that Ronin was in such bad shape when leaving the lodge before they had a chance to eat lunch. I was positive Ronin did everything he could to hide the level of pain he felt.
“You can see him now.” The same doctor gave us her best comforting smile. “He’s in Room 212 on the second floor. We’re keeping him overnight just for observation. We didn’t find anything of concern with the test results. And he’s feeling much better now.”
“Did you give him something?” I asked because he was dying … it sounded like he was literally dying at his condo and when they loaded him into the ambulance. That wasn’t nothing. That wasn’t something that should have come back negative in testing.
“No.” She rubbed her lips together and shrugged. SHRUGGED!
“So you don’t know what was wrong with him?” I asked with heavy incredulity in my words.
She shook her head. “Not at this point.” Really, kudos to her for
being honest and not giving us some made-up bullshit generic answer. But how could she not know?
“Let’s focus on the fact that he’s feeling better.” Ling took my hand and kissed the back of it.
I knew I’d be a much different mother than her—the kind that freaked out over cuts and scrapes, the kind that grabbed doctors and shook them while yelling, “How can you not know? It’s your job to know!”
When we got to Ronin’s room, he was sitting up in bed. And fuck me if he wasn’t wearing that same eerily calm but slightly worried smile. It must have been genetic.
I stayed back, waiting for Ling to run to his bed and embrace him with a deep sigh of relief. She didn’t. Maybe she was waiting for me to have my turn. I didn’t question it any further. I simply threw myself at him, burying my face in his neck.
“Oh my god … I was so scared.”
He hugged me with weak arms, which told me something was wrong with him. “I’m fine, baby. I’m fine.”
“But …” I pulled back, shaking my head. “You weren’t fine. You were in terrible pain. I heard you. I saw you. That wasn’t nothing. They have to keep looking. Something is—”
“Evie, Evie, Evie …” He pressed his palms to my cheeks and smiled as I blinked back my tears. “It was probably just a migraine. I’m fine.”
I covered his hands with mine. “A migraine? That …” I eased my head side to side, eyes squinted. “Do you get migraines?”
He never mentioned them before. And I’d never had one that I knew of—maybe a bad headache with an illness or too much stress, but not a migraine. I’d heard they could be painful, debilitating, and scary. But … Ronin was a strong man. I was supposed to believe the death scene that played out at his condo was a migraine?
“Not often.” He gave me a half shrug, releasing my face.
Why was everyone shrugging like it was no big deal? I wanted to scream. Just remembering what happened at his condo had my heart racing again and my breaths quickening.
“You need to rest for a few days. No work.” Ling sidled up to him on the other side of the bed, taking his hand.
I made a mental note to get on my computer and search up migraines as soon as I got home. If that was all it was, why did he need to rest for a few days?
“I shouldn’t have let you leave the restaurant,” Graham said to Ronin.
Lila hugged Graham’s arm, comforting him. We didn’t get to see vulnerable, guilt-ridden Graham all that often.
“It wasn’t your fault. I honestly didn’t realize how bad I felt until I got home.”
“You saved that man’s life.” Graham shook his head slowly as if he had nothing but admiration for what Ronin did.
Ronin and his parents exchanged a look. I narrowed my eyes at him. When he returned his attention to me, the look vanished.
“I’m a paramedic. It’s my job.” A slight smile turned up his lips.
No more shrugs. No more weak smiles. Everyone needed to stop pretending what happened was no big deal.
“Surely they gave you something for the migraine,” I said.
“No. It uh … went away just as quickly as it came on. By the time they finished running tests, it had eased up. Now, I’m just a little tired.”
“We’ll let you rest.” Victor, who had been very quiet through this whole thing, finally spoke up.
“Rest, Ronin.” Ling kissed him on the cheek and left the room with Victor.
“Let us know if you need anything.” Lila gave him a hug.
“Thank you. Maybe take Evelyn to dinner. Get her a glass of wine.”
They chuckled.
I didn’t see the humor. I hadn’t overreacted. Why was everyone downplaying and completely dismissing what happened just hours earlier?
“We’ll take care of her.” Graham reassured Ronin.
“Can I have a minute?” I gave Lila and Graham a tight smile.
“Graham and I will meet you downstairs. Take your time.” Lila took my hand and gave it a quick, reassuring squeeze.
I waited until they left the room, keeping my back to Ronin a few more seconds after the door closed. With my scattered emotions, frazzled nerves, and racing thoughts, I needed a moment, a few breaths to formulate the words I wanted to say to him.
“Look at me,” he said, just above a whisper.
Closing my eyes, I took one last deep breath and turned toward him.
“I’m fine.” He held out his hand.
I stared at it for a few seconds.
“Evie …”
Biting my lips together, I shook my head. “I’m not buying it.” Ignoring his proffered hand, I hugged my arms to my body.
A crease formed between his brows. “Buying what?”
“The migraine.”
“They found nothing. Speculation is all we have. And I’m feeling better, so what does it matter?”
“It’s serious.” I swallowed past the lump of alarm and disbelief in my throat. “You have something really wrong with you like cancer, and you’ve known it. You told the doctor to tell us the tests came back negative and maybe they did for everything but … cancer.”
Ronin shook his head. “No, Evie. I don’t have cancer.” Again, he extended his hand toward me, but I stayed just out of his reach.
“It’s okay.” I cleared my throat and tipped my chin up. “I know you think I can’t handle it because of my mom and the wedding chaos, but I can. I’m stronger than you think I am. Maybe I can’t ski, but I can handle bad news.”
“Evelyn …” He pushed himself up so when he bent forward his hand could reach my wrist, and he pulled me to him.
I sat on the edge of the bed while he held my hand and brushed his knuckles along my cheek with his other hand. “I know you’re strong. And if I had cancer, I would tell you. I would let you micromanage my treatment, my meals, my sleep schedule, and my exposure to environmental toxins.”
My eyes couldn’t help but roll at his words, his reference to everything I’d done for my mom since her breast cancer diagnosis.
“Don’t roll your eyes at me, Miss Taylor. I’m not making fun of you. In fact, I’m quite envious of all the attention your mom has gotten from you. And over the next few days I’m taking off to recover from whatever this was … I expect nothing short of your undivided attention. You’ll need to feed me, bring me hot tea and my favorite book. Bathe me …” He smirked. “Yes. You’ll definitely need to bathe me.”
Ronin tried his best to be fun and cute. He tried his best to ease my worry by dismissing the events of that day, but my gut rarely lied. It told me I hadn’t seen the end of whatever it was that landed him in the emergency room. However, with a doctor’s list of negative test results accompanied by a shrug, I had nothing to go on at that moment.
“I’ll take care of you.” I leaned toward him, resting my cheek on his chest as he stroked my hair.
“Thank you,” he whispered on a sigh.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Ronin
“You’re hovering.” I grinned at the page in my book, feeling the gravity of Evelyn’s gaze on me as she peeked around the corner to the bedroom. Three long days passed under the wide umbrella of her worry. I anticipated more bathing and less studying, less frowning, less wrinkled-nosed concern.
“Just seeing if you got out of the shower okay. You didn’t sing today.” She slipped into the bedroom, her bedroom. I wasn’t sure why I still kept my condo, maybe for times I needed to suffer in solitude.
“Had you been in the shower with me, then you would have known the answer to that. You might have screamed the answer to that. And I would have sang for you.”
Her cheeks turned the perfect shade of pink as she climbed into bed. I lifted my arm to let her snuggle into me, and she draped a leg over mine. Her mind refused to let go of the events that led to my days off work. My mind didn’t care about that. It was too busy planning how I would get her out of that bulky sweater and fitted jeans.
“I have to go to Denver tomorrow for my mom�
�s treatment.”
“I’m going back to work, so the timing is good.”
Her finger traced the tattooed script along the side of my torso. “What do you think happened to the guy you saved in the restaurant?”
“He died.”
She twisted her head to look up at me. “How do you know?”
I masked the tension—the truth—behind gritted teeth for a few seconds, regretting my knee-jerk response to her question. “Just a feeling. Most people don’t make it out of the hospital after their heart stops … even if we successfully resuscitate them. I don’t know that he died. It’s just … a feeling.”
That wasn’t a lie. I had distinct feelings, or lack thereof, that told me he died. Not right away. His heart started beating again, but it didn’t do more than prolong his pain, offering temporary hope to his family.
He died. The ringing in my ears vanished, and the pain died.
“Graham thought the CPR did something to you … like hitting a low after an adrenaline high.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“Has that happened before? I mean, surely you’ve administered CPR before, either as ski patrol or for sure in your EMT training?”
“Yes. I have. But every time is different. I don’t know what happened. I’m just glad that I’m feeling better.”
I lied to the woman I loved. Maybe it was for the best that we didn’t say the actual words. Maybe I didn’t deserve to love her if I couldn’t let myself trust her with the truth.
Hinder not the soul’s intended path unto the light, lest shards of darkness shed upon thee.
The man at the lodge collapsed.
The familiar voice whispered to me.
I made a choice—a choice to be a hero or a coward.
Hero. I always chose hero.
With every compression, the ringing in my ears intensified.
The paramedics took over. I stood, breathless, watching them load the man into the back of the ambulance, watching them prepare to shock his heart again.
