I clear my throat before I answer her. "I left him a note"—my voice breaks—"while he was asleep."
My insides twist.
"Oh. My. God. I’m not judging you, butoh my God.He'll be so crushed. A note? A note?”
Fuck.
My phone beeps with a second call. I peer down at the name flashing intrusively.
Konnor.
I lift my phone back to my cheek and breathe out loudly. "Konnor's on the other line."
"Pick it up. Talk to him!" she pleads.
Deep regret surges through me. "I can't."
It is no wonder people hate hospitals.
They intrude on every sense and are filled with people who avoid you when you need them most.
"Hi, I'm Blesk Bellamy," I say as sweetly as I can.
The receptionist doesn't even look at me. Glass separates us, and phones ring relentlessly. She picks up a phone, talks into it, slams it down, writes something, picks up another phone, and talks into that one.
And so it continues.
Sitting and waiting, I glance at my phone to see ten missed calls from Konnor, and a bunch of texts.
Konnor: Don't do this Blesk. It's you I want! You! Please call me. Just talk to me about all of this. Tell me what you want me to do. I will do it. I will do anything!
Konnor: Maybe I came on too strong. I will wait as long as you need. Just call me. Please don't block me out.
My thumb hovers over his name,Konnor, moving slightly as if to caress each digit. I want to answer him so badly my hand actually aches with yearning, but I tell myself that's guilt for what I just ended, and that's true. A cowardly part of me is grateful to have a waiting room to sit in, an emergency to focus on, instead of facing him.
“Yes?”
I look up, and the lady is staring at me.
"Oh, I'm here to see Erik Bellamy.”
“Wait one moment, I'll tell you his room number."
And with that, I lean back into my chair.
"Blesk!" A familiar voice calls out, instantly filling me with relief.
Elise slides into the seat beside me, wearing hipster jeans and crazy nail polish. "Excuse me, Miss?" She taps on the window that separates us from the hospital staff.
The nurse, or receptionist, or whatever she is, snaps her eyes up, scowling at Elise’s finger. "Don't touch the glass.”
Elise bites her lip. “Sorry.”
The lady looks at me. “Erik Bellamy is in room thirty-nine, Karri Ward."
With that, we leave and navigate our way through the hospital. When we find Erik's door, I stare at the threshold between me and the beeping and buzzing sounds.
"Are you going to go in?" Elise asks, then waves at a chair. “We can just wait out here. Sit for a bit?”
