“You used to say that you had already found the perfect woman. That she was the love of your life and there was no one who could compare, so there’s no use looking. That the memories you shared are enough to keep you warm at night.”
He looks away, breaking eye contact. Breaking me.
“Guess that was all a lie. A little amnesia and it’s all gone. Or maybe it’s not amnesia. Maybe you’re just hard up. Need to get your dick wet, Dad? Is that it? Well, have at it.” I gesture to the nurse, who has tears in her eyes, but she’s still here. When any normal person would go screaming for the door, she stayed. And I hate her. “You won’t even have to pay her like the others do.”
“Ruby.” Atom’s harsh tone makes me flinch more than any look Dad could give me right now. Because he knows. He knows I’m not like this. That I don’t lash out at strangers unless they deserve it.
Well, from my point of view, she does. This and a keyed car. Maybe even a black eye.
“Fuck this.” I grab my bag off the ground. “If you don’t want to remember, that’s your issue. I’m done trying to keep a memory of someone who doesn’t even want to try. He’s all yours.” I nod at the nurse. “I’m done with him.”
Walking out of the room doesn’t hurt. It’s the fact that only Atom called me back. Not Dad. Not a single word from him.
I’m not paying attention, which seems more normal for me than not lately. I used to be so good at knowing everything that was going on in my surroundings. But now I just don’t seem to care. Which my subconscious yells at me all the time for. I need to be smart. I really do. But it’s hard to care with everything going on.
A hand stops me, and I pull away before I see who it is. At least I still care enough to react once touched. Too bad I don’t follow it up with a punch.
Abigail.
Of course. If this day could get any worse, I’m sure God will find a way to do it. Starting with her being at the hospital.
“What?”
She flinches back at my hard tone but doesn’t seem deterred enough to leave me the fuck alone.
“I called out to you a few times.”
“Ever think that I just don’t want to talk to you?” Not that I heard her, but she doesn’t need to know that. If I did, I’m sure she would have met the same result.
“You look like you’ve been crying.” She ignores my brush-off, and I just roll my eyes.
“Captain Obvious, you aren’t.” I turn to walk away, pushing my bag higher on my shoulder as I go. “Tell the Crazy Eights to get their money back. You’re not worth the price.” I smirk. Twice now I’ve made references to women not being worth the money. Wonder if I can make it three for three before the day’s over.
“How’s your dad?”
I stop.
Turn.
And take two steps back toward her. Close enough to be in her face.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
Six months ago, she would have flinched and backed away. Would have backpedaled so fast and apologized in seconds. Even before I questioned her. But now? She stands tall. She doesn’t back down. She even maintains eye contact.
“Your dad. Is he doing better?”
“He’s dead,” I spit out. To which she tilts her head, keeping her expression neutral.
“Okay. And the John Doe?”
Fuck. She knows. I don’t know how, but she does. The club, Casper, Kooper—they all made it clear that this was still to be kept quiet. Or is that no longer a thing now that he doesn’t remember me? Maybe I’m the only one who’s still in the dark.
It’s not like I’ve talked to anyone. Not even Kooper. Since the night he stayed over, it’s been radio silence. Not that I’m looking at my phone or checking it every time I get out of the shower to see if I missed a call or a text.
I don’t reach out to him because I don’t need to. I don’t need him. He did what I needed that night. He held me and let me fall apart. Just like he did when he told me Dad was dead.
Whatever. I’m dealing with my feelings and thoughts about him lying to me. Things are murky at best. One moment, I’m all against him saying it was a lie, and the next, I see it as a truth that Daddiddie, and he just left out the partthat he was brought back to the land of the living but in a coma after that. Which is still a lie. A lie of omission.
