I gave her my number, hoping my old phone was still back at the apartment.
She provided antibiotics, a few pain medications I won’t end up taking, and her sympathies. She was kind but I didn’t need anyone to pity me.
I changed into a pair of scrubs she had given me before leaving the exam room. My savior, what I guessed to be a suitable name as well, was there waiting. I handed him his shirt back, and he took it avoiding eye contact of any kind.
The drive back was silent as they dropped me off near my apartment. I didn’t want them to know where I lived so I gave them an address for a block over. But the walk back was torture.
I felt around for the spare key under the potted plant outside the apartment door. My roommate was home, but she didn’t ask questions about where I’ve been, so I took that asa sign she hadn’t been home long. Or she simply didn’t give a damn. Both are fine.
Here I was, rescinded, cleaned up, and about to continue back to my ordinary life.
Like nothing ever happened.
Like my entire life wasn’t turned upside down.
I never forgot him. There’s no forgetting the man who saved me. From the way he carried me so delicately, so fragile, like I could break with one simple wrong move. I suppose at the time, I might have. But he got me out of that car—got me to safety and I can recall every last detail of what it had felt like to cling to him. Being safe for that small fraction of time. To be in the grasp of someone who didn’t want to hurt me.
Jesus. My fists still hold onto him for dear life. How long have I been standing here?
His eyes are the same emotionless, empty, sad ones. Maybe I can read them so well because they’re the same as mine. I want to ask him why he’s so broken but that would be randomly insane.
I shuffle backward, away from him and tug at the ends of my hair. When he last saw me, it was a matted mess. Soiled with blood, and God only knows what else. I was probably twenty pounds lighter too.
I don’t know what to say. Does he even remember or recognize me for that matter? I can thank him again but the more we stand here, the more awkward it gets.
He blinks, giving me a small nod before brushing past. It’s like he couldn’t escape fast enough.
I can hear my heart thudding in my ears.
“Are you okay?” Tequila steps back outside, a slightly confused expression marring her face.
“I just didn’t expect to see him.” I glance over my shoulder, but he’s gone.
“Sorry. I know this must be a lot for you. I should take it down a notch.”
I shake my head, bringing my attention back to her. “I’m glad I came.” A smile forces its way through my thick shell. “I can’t remember his name.” My voice dips, disappointed with myself.
Tequila’s eyes dart behind me, then back. “Hush.”
“Hush,” I repeat quietly without realizing I said that aloud, the heat rising on my face.
“It’s okay. He has that effect on all of us. And you were pretty out of it that night.” Her sympathetic tone is obvious.
She leads me back to the clubhouse as we silently agree the tour is over. “Want to come back inside for a little? We can hang out more.”
“Actually, I think I’m going to head back. I work the evening shift so—”
“Oh, of course. Duh. I guess I selfishly expected you to stay here all day, and cry on each other’s shoulders like the pathetic broken souls that we are.” She laughs and I smile.
I am broken. But not her, she’s too strong.
“I’m really glad I came.”
Her eyes beam with joy. “It was good, wasn’t it?” She smiles. “Please stay in touch, Danika. And Angel has a class tomorrow at noon if you want to come by. I don’t want you to think I’m pressuring you or anything. I just think it might be good.”
Tomorrow’s my day off and for some reason, excitement floods me. “Yeah. Yeah, maybe I’ll do that.”
“Great! Can I pick you up?”
