I splash one more round of water on may face and dry off. I’ve looked better, but at least I’m not as ghostly white as I was this morning. There is a small amount of color in my cheeks, making me look a little more human.
“Here. It’s not water, but it should help.” Emma hands me a ginger ale. “Drink up. Want me to get you some Powerade?”
I scrunch my nose up then take a big swig. “That stuff is way too sugary for me. Last night I was throwing up neon orange.”
“Okay, I can score you some Pedialyte if you would want.”
“Yes, that would be amazing. The clear kind. I’ll suck it down quickly.”
“Not a problem. I can grab some. Why don’t you sit on the couch for now and take a second to gather yourself.”
We both make our way to the common sitting area in the employees’ lounge. There are a few doctors watching ESPN, drinking sodas and dabbling in some free pizza that was brought to the lounge. I consider eating a piece, but think better of it. Pretty sure the demon inside me will reject the pizza just like everything else I try to eat.
The only things that don’t make me throw up right now are saltines, bland chicken, and applesauce. God, I love applesauce, the unsweetened kind. I have so many jars of it in my house right now, that you would think I had stock in the company.
“I’ll be right—”
“Hayden Holmes is looking smooth as ever on the ice this pre-season, showing no signs of a bump in the road during his transition.” One of the doctors turns the volume up on the TV as everything else around me fades away.
“I can’t believe the Brawlers traded him,” one of the doctors says, leaning forward in his seat.
“Rumor is because he lost his cool at the press conference after their loss at the end of the season.”
“If that’s true, the Brawlers are the most idiotic organization in the hockey.”
On the TV ESPN plays a short montage of highlight clips. I’ve never seen Hayden play hockey, because I’ve never paid attention to the sport, but seeing him now, floating effortlessly along the ice, the determination in his eyes, the way he handles his stick with such precision, taking shot after shot at the goalie, it’s impressive and incredibly sexy.
Emma tugs on my hand but my attention is glued to the TV, and when Hayden comes onto the screen, I freeze. Hair wet from his helmet, his shoulders looking impossibly large from his shoulder pads, he smiles boyishly at the interviewer and laughs from a question I didn’t quite catch, my attention entirely focused on the man who stole my heart.
Looking toward the ground, his straight white teeth showing, hand gripping on the back of his head, his deep voice comes to life in the small staff lounge. “They’ve been amazing. The Quakes organization has really opened their arms to me and made me feel welcome.” When Hayden looks at the camera, there is a smile on his face, but his eyes . . . they aren’t happy.
Empty, soulless. Not the same eyes that greeted me when I first met him, or the eyes that stared at me while pulsing inside me.
“And how is Los Angeles treating you?”
“Love it.” Hayden grips the collar of his shoulder pads as he speaks. “It’s a huge change from Philly, but I’ve enjoyed soaking in the atmosphere of California. I very well might be in love.”
In love.
The words vibrate through my body.He’s in love.
Because I’m selfish and wish I were still very much involved in Hayden’s life, I shamelessly hoped he was miserable in California, that despite not having a choice, he still wished he was in Binghamton with me. And for a small glimpse of hope, I thought maybe that was the case with his empty smile, but now . . .
He’s laughing, joking, LOVING the state, the team that took him away from me. It’s a hard pill to swallow. Incredibly hard.
“Hey, are you okay?”
My stomach rolls, my inability to swallow my saliva fast enough startles me. I’m going to lose it. Running to the bathroom, I throw open the first stall and dry-heave into the toilet, nothing left inside of me to rid.
Silently, tears fall from my eyes as my stomach convulses over and over again.
Why can’t he be miserable? How is it fair that his life simply moves on and he’sin love? I saw what I wanted to see—unhappy eyes. I was wrong. Oblivious Father: 1. Freaked-out Mother: 0
How I wish he were as miserable as I am.
* * *
Wrapped up in my robe, tucked under fluffy blankets, with a water next to me and a saltine in my hand, I open my computer. From a few feet away, a mint and eucalyptus candle burns, filling the air with a soothing smell that has eased the tension in my stomach. When I was at Bath & Body Works today, I bought six of the same candles, because it’s the one thing that’s been able to soothe me. Now if only I can find a way to burn one while I’m at work. If they came as those tree air fresheners, I would wear ten around my neck.
