Ian
“Right now, all I want is some morphine,” Jamie says, plunging the two of us into total embarrassment. “Anything not to be here with you,” he says without hesitation.
If he hadn’t just broken his knee on the field, I swear, I’d break it for him now.
“I wouldn’t want there to be too much of a crowd here,” I say, suffocating.
She and I in the same room.
There’s not enough air for the both of us.
Riley gets off the bed without lifting her eyes to meet mine and explains, “I was just about to ask the doctor when they’re finally going to take him for the CAT scan.”
She passes right by me and walks out of the room.
“Wow, man,” Jamie says, making fun of me.
“I see that you’re doing better,” I say, raising an eyebrow and ignoring his comment.
“And I see that you’re the same old arsehole as always.”
“How’s it going?” I ask, changing the subject.
“I wanted to ask you the same thing.”
“I’m not the one with the screwed-up knee.”
“No, you’re screwed-up in something else, Ian.”
“Don’t start.”
“I’m not the one who started this thing. I just wish someone would say the word ‘over’ because I can’t stand this anymore.”
“There’s nothing to end because we haven’t started anything, Jamie, as you well know.”
“What I know is that you’re a fucking—”
“Here’s my favorite patient,” a cheerful nurse says, interrupting us. “Are we ready for a little trip?”
“With you, sweetheart, I’d go to the end of the world.”
I shake my head in resignation as she helps him sit up straight in his wheelchair.
“Will you keep Riley company while I’m away?”
I look at him sideways.
“Don’t screw anything else up before I get back,” he adds before being wheeled out.
Well, at least he’s in a better mood.
I pop my head out to see where Riley might be and after looking left and right, I find her at the end of the hallway. I gather up my courage and walk towards her, trying to swallow the beat of my heart pulsing in my throat and echoing all through my body.
When I get close to her, I clear my throat to get her attention, but she doesn’t turn around. She’s standing with her arms wrapped around her waist, small, vulnerable, and defeated.
“Everything’s going to be alright,” I tell her, trying to be kind.
She nods.
