close behind and soon she was gone, too.
What the hell just happened? I went back into the house and immediately saw that the answering machine was blinking the number two. I’d have bet all my money it was Jensen, and when I hit play I heard him asking me to please call him back. He added that he was sorry and that loved me, but at that moment I just couldn’t deal with it. True, I had kissed Nate and we slept in the same bed, but I thought he was Jensen. Jensen didn’t think Fallon was me, or had he? No. No, he didn’t. That would be too much of a coincidence. Immediately I felt sick and went into the bathroom, hurling the oatmeal and last night’s lasagna dinner into the bowl.
2. Turn of Events
Bright and early Sunday morning, my day was interrupted by Nate. Glancing through the slats of the Venetian blinds on the front window as soon as I heard the sound of an engine, I saw his truck drive up and really wanted to pretend like I wasn’t home, but there was no way I’d pull it off with him seeing my truck in the driveway. I reluctantly opened the door to his guilt-ridden face, but I didn’t immediately invite him in.
“Hi. Can I please come in?” He looked like a little boy who had recently been scolded, coming to ask for forgiveness. At least this time he didn’t look so wrinkled and his blue jeans were adequately fastened and I could clearly see the emblem of Tesla on his t-shirt.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” I glared at him with a penetrating look.
“Come on, Mia, I’m an asshole. I’m sorry. I was mad,” he pleaded, leaning his hand on the door jamb.
After another minute of us each trying to stare one another down, I stepped aside and motioned him in with a swift wave of my hand. There obviously wasn’t any way to win this. Maybe letting him in to speak his peace would make him leave. “Fine,” I said. Not the most hospitable way to be, but that’s all he was going to get. I chose to sit on a bar stool while he leaned against the back of the couch.
“Look, I’m sorry about the scene with Aria. After she talked to you at lunch, she wouldn’t let it be and wanted to know why I was being so weird around you. I finally caved.”
“I don’t fucking care about that. You should at least be honest with your girlfriend, even if you’re not going to be with me,” I spat. He flinched and I continued, “You led me to believe we’d had sex. Why? Do you know how much stress I’ve been through trying to figure out how the hell I was going to tell Jensen, my fiancé, about that?”
“You’re not wearing your ring,” he pointed out. “You weren’t wearing it at the party, either.”
I hopped off the stool, angrier than I had been. How could he downplay what happened and try to place the blame on me because I wasn’t wearing Jensen’s ring? “What does that matter?” I yelled. “He and I had to deal with some heavy shit while I was down in Phoenix. So much shit that I put our engagement on hold so he could figure it out. That still doesn’t mean I don’t love him and that I don’t want to marry him! Shit, Nate, what if I had told him we had fucked?” Internally I baulked at my vulgar use of the slang for sex, but I was on a roll. “Don’t you think there would be no coming back from that, given his historically bad luck with women?!”
Nate recoiled at my anger. “Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let it go so far and I shouldn’t have lied. I thought you would’ve figured it out since there wasn’t a condom or wrapper in the trash.”
“Are you kidding me?” I eyed him angrily. “One, I didn’t look. I was a little pre-occupied! Plus, that could’ve just meant you lied about that, too, and that we hadn’t used one.” I turned away from him and put my hand to my forehead. “Maybe you should just go, Nate.”
“Yeah, I guess,” he muttered as if in defeat. It had become pretty clear that neither of us had any more to say.
Hearing Nate move toward the front door behind me, I turned to the side and almost instantly buckled as a searing pain ran through my abdomen.
“Fuck!” I gasped, holding my stomach and carefully easing my body down to the floor.
“What’s wrong, Mia?” Nate was at my side, hovering over me and trying to help.
“I don’t know, something’s wrong! Shit that hurts!” I gasped between clenched teeth. The pains I had been having were coming full circle. Why didn’t I get it checked out?
Putting his hands to my shoulders and helping me to my feet, Nate walked me over to the couch and insisted on taking me to the hospital. He told me to stay put while he went outside to get the truck’s engine started and the heater going. I wasn’t in any shape to protest and continued to cry out in agony as the pain worsened and jolted through my body. In no time Nate came rushing back in, picked me up and carried me out, setting me in the passenger side of the truck where I automatically curled up. Nate firmly closed the door before running over to his side, and in a flash he backed out of the driveway and threw the truck in gear.
Ten minutes later we pulled up to Emergency at the hospital and a nurse arrived to help me from the truck. Nate jumped out to help her put me in a wheelchair, and then the nurse wheeled me through the sliding glass doors, into the reception area, and through another set of doors labeled: No Admittance without Authorization. I tightly closed my eyes as another jolt of pain seared through my abdomen, and before the doors closed I thought I could hear Nate pleading for them to make me better. Not hearing anyone answer him, I felt the chair move faster until it finally stopped beside a lone bed behind a panel of curtains. Two nurses rushed over to help me onto the bed and immediately began stripping me of my clothes. My tense body was making that difficult, but when I tried to relax the pain was worse. The nurses began asking questions that I couldn’t quite hear, and a doctor made his way over to look into my eyes with a bright light, asking questions of his own and trying to get my attention. I just stared at them all as darkness closed in around me.
Doctor Brackett. Doctor Richard Brackett. Please come to the first floor nurses’ station.
The distant voice of a woman entered my conscious and slowly became louder, calling out names and requests as slow beeping sounds went off around me. Gently my eyes fluttered open, taking in the blurry surroundings, but not really seeing anything. I closed and opened them again definitely seeing more. My eyes shifted from one corner of the room to the other, taking in lighted medical machines, a television, two chairs, and the crisp white hospital bed I was lying in. Taking a hold of the metal bed rail attached to the bed, I attempted to roll myself over but gave up when I felt a tight pinch coming from the skin of my arm. Looking over at it I could see an IV line taped to the inside of my forearm, which could have easily come out if I had kept on pulling. Stiffly I felt around with my free hand and pulled the length of the IV line out from underneath my body where it must have ended up while I was unconscious. More slack in the line made it possible for me to roll myself over, but in doing so I felt a pain in my stomach much like the ones that had forced me to the hospital in the first place. Stopping short and muttering every swear word I knew, I carefully rolled onto my back, taking in long, deep breaths. Why am I sore? And why does my stomach hurt so much? My appendix? I thought about pulling my hospital gown apart to look, but just then I saw the door open and someone come in. Squinting my eyes, I tried to make out the blurry face.
“Hey, you’re awake!” Nate’s familiar voice was jovial. He came over and pulled a chair close to the bed and sat down.
“What are you doing here?” I croaked. I seemed to remember we had
