Nat is nowhere to be found. I’m alone.
And there’s food. Perfect and waiting.
Screw it.
I pull a plate out of the cabinet and slide the omelet onto it. I open the fridge, grab the ketchup, and then stop. Right in front on the top row is an iced coffee. And from the label on it, it’s my exact order.
Either I’ve got a stalker, or I’ve started to sleepwalk and get things together before waking. Not one to ignore gifts, I pick it up hesitantly. Not sure why. It’s just an iced coffee. Nothing scary or hidden about that.
I bring the coffee, ketchup, and omelet to the table and pull my laptop out of my bag. As it powers up, I squeeze out a nice layer of ketchup goodness onto my eggs. I take my first bite and open my emails, only stopping at the second bite when I see two messages, both from my professors. One from the class I missed completely and the other from the one I walked out of.
The first just has the notes from the class with a note saying they hope I’m feeling better. Odd, but I guess it makes sense to think I was out sick. Especially since I make a pointto never miss a class, even showing up ten minutes early every day and sitting in the first row. I guess being that kind of student has its perks.
But the second email? Surprising. The guy made it clear from day one that he wasn’t going to go easy on anyone or help. Either do the assignments or get out—his exact words. So, seeing an email from him, with his personal notes of the lecture I walked out of, is beyond anything. There’s no note included, just the attachment.
“Must be my lucky day.” And after the last year of having more bad luck than good, I think I’m entitled to this. I’m also completely fine with not overthinking how all this happened and just accepting it.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow I’ll worry about things and what they mean. But today? I’m just going to eat food, drink caffeine, and review what I missed. Today is a nonthinking day. Just one. Tomorrow I can feel the world falling apart.
But today is for me. Only me.
Two weeks. I’ve had to deal with this for two weeks. And I’m done. I’m completely done. Done with the bullshit. Done with the waiting. Done with the unknown. Just all of it.
At least when Dad was in a coma, there was hope. And while everyone keeps telling me there’sstillhope, I call BS on it.
Kitten lost her memory when she fell down a cliff and into the club, almost literally. Got the coffee mug and the markings to prove it. She also got herself an old man from it.But there was a difference with her and her memory. Sure, it was everything for her and not selective like Dad’s, but shewantedto get her memory back.
Nothing that Dad is doing shows he wants that. Especially when I walk in on him flirting with a fucking nurse. Again.
It makes me sick. Visibly sick and angry. It’s always the same nurse. The one I used to think understood the silent cues. But she seems to have ignored all my glares up to this point.
And after finding out I got a fucking C on my latest paper today, I’m no longer in the mood to be nice. General told me to just let things play out. To come as much as I wanted. Share memories, bring pictures. Do what I want, just don’t push it. Too much could do more harm than good.
It’s her giggle that sets me off. Before I fully walk through the door, I hear it. And the sneer on my face doesn’t hide any of my feelings.
“Pretty sure you’re not being paid to drool over the patients,” I say by way of greeting. I drop my bag at the door and cross my arms.
Dad looks at me from his spot on the bed, frowning, while the nurse gives me a wide-eyed innocent look as she stands beside him at the machines.
“I… I wasn’t drooling.”
“Don’t lie, honey. Men of the club don’t like it, and it won’t get you special dicking for the effort.”
“Ruby!” Dad berates me, but it’s not like it used to be. His bark to me is what he uses on strangers. On prospects of the club. On anyone but me.
I glare harder but don’t apologize.
“You did your job, now get. I’ll make sure General knows just how muchspecialtreatment you’re giving to your patients. Pretty sure he’ll side with me and see that you’re just a waste of the hospital’s time and money.”
“Girl, you better get your mouth right,” Dad seethes, and the nurse shrinks in on herself. He isn’t looking at me, though, but ather.
“Why? Six months ago, you wouldn’t have even looked at this… this… hussy. You wouldn’t have seen her at all. But now? You forget me. Fine. Whatever. I have no dad. I’ll live. But Mom? You forget her? The woman you joined the club for? The one you put up with all the bullshit for, everything her uncle threw at you to get you to sway off her. You didn’t even see her in that time. You spent one weekend together.One.And that was it for you. You never looked at another woman. Ever. Not when you were apart. Not when you got the presidency and every damn bimbo in the state threw themselves at you, naked even. Not even when she said to get laid because she was as big as a house because she was pregnant with me.”
I’m screaming and watching him finally,finallylook at me. He’s glaring, but at least he’s listening.
At some point, Atom came into the room, probably to see what all the noise was about. He was on guard duty when I came in. I’m guessing Mad Max had something else to do. Good for him for having a life outside of here. Something I can’t seem to do yet. But I’m getting close. So close.
“And when she got sick?” I swallow the emotion in my voice, but the tears don’t listen to my silent plea to stayput and start leaking down my face. “When she lost her hair and went through chemo? When she died? Not once. Not once did you see another woman.” I sniff and use the back of my hand towipe my nose. Super classy, but I don’t care.
