by Sarah Bale
Had I made him feel this way?
He must have guessed my train of thought because he said, “My mum’s been sick. She told me that the doc doesn’t think she’s going to get better.”
“I had no idea. Denver, I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t like talking about it, so it never came up when we were together.”
No, we’d been too busy having sex so I could keep my mind – and heart – off of Mesquite. I was saved from replying as we pulled up to an old brick building. The parking lot was fairly empty and we made our way through the snow covering the ground.
“Damn, I wish I’d dried my hair,” I said, shivering as my damp ponytail hit my neck.
Denver laughed and held the door open for me. Inside, I was pleased to see there weren’t any fans. The conversation we were about to have was going to be emotional and private – something I didn’t want anyone to witness. We ordered our hot drinks and then sat at a small table by the window.
“Jamie, I know you’ve picked Mesquite, but I have to know if you’re sure? Is this really what you want?”
Wow, right to the big one.
I warmed my hand on my coffee mug and replied, “Yes. Denver, you helped me through one of the hardest times in my life, and you’ll-”
He held up a hand. “Please don’t say I’ll always be your friend. I don’t know if I can do that, Jamie. I love you. And not like a friend.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say, then. I can’t tell you what you want to hear. And you were the one who said I needed to figure out my feelings for Mesquite before our relationship would have a chance of working.”
The bell over the door chimed as someone entered, but I paid the person no attention.
“I am sorry that I’ve hurt you, but I’m not going to sugarcoat things. We both know that doesn’t help anyone in the end.”
He watched me before saying, “And now I’ll have to see the two of you together. Maybe this tour isn’t a bad thing after all. And who knows how things will be when I get back?”
He had a point. There was no way to know if things would work out with Mesquite. But I knew one thing – I loved Mesquite.
“You’re right. No one knows what will happen and maybe we’ll find ourselves thrown together in the future. But right now, in this moment, Mesquite is who I choose.”
I hoped he took my words as I meant them. I wasn’t trying to be cruel.
He finally said, “That’s the best I can hope for then. Thank you for being honest with me.” He glanced at the watch on his wrist and said, “We’d better get back to the hotel. I still need to pack before I check out.”
“I do still want to be friends, Denver.”
His lips lifted into a half smile. “Sadly that’s not an option, my sweet Jamie.” He stood. “We should go. The sky is starting to darken and it gives me a funny feeling.”
I hated that I felt like crying. He truly didn’t want to be my friend. He had every right to feel the way he did – and yet I was the one acting like the victim. Losing him completely had never crossed my mind.
We made our way outside and discovered the snow was covered in a light glaze of ice. Denver cursed under his breath, as he opened my door for me.
“Can you drive on it?” I asked when he was inside the car.
I was unsure if he could maneuver the car through the icy mess.
“I’ve got this.”
He pulled onto the main road and we were thankfully the only ones out.
“Are you going to ignore me from now on?”
He glanced at me. “I didn’t realize I was. Plus, I’m trying to be a safe driver here.”
I opened my mouth to reply when he cried out. I turned my head to see what had caused him to startle and my head slammed against the window. Pain spread throughout my entire face and I tasted blood. We spun on the ice-covered road and I stupidly wondered how we were going to stop.
Denver was saying something, but I couldn’t focus on his words. My damn head hurt so much. I reached up to touch my temple when something else crashed into the car. This time I felt like I was flipping in slow motion. Blinking, I saw the airbag go off on Denver’s side of the car. The impact wasn’t friendly, as one would imagine.
Instead, blood gushed from his nose. When I heard the loud pop I knew my airbag was deploying, but there was no way to brace myself. Bursts of white light caused my vision to waver until I saw nothing at all. I allowed myself to give in to the darkness that was fighting to take over. And it was such a relief not to feel anything.
January 25
A repetitive beep stirred me from my sleep. I reached to turn the alarm off, but my arm wouldn’t work. Opening my eyes I was blinded by the fluorescent light overhead. Pain shot throughout my skull and I closed my eyes to make it stop.
“I think she’s trying to wake up,” a familiar voice said nearby. “Jamie. Can you hear me?”
I tried to open my eyes again, but sleep was fighting to overtake my body. And I just didn’t care.
*
I woke later to find a nurse standing over me, pushing something through the IV. She was about the same age as me, which stuck me as funny for some reason.
“Water,” I croaked out.
She smiled down at me. “Good afternoon, Jamie. My name is Lola and I’m your nurse. You’ve been out for a few days.”
She poured me a glass of water and helped me take a few sips. During this painful time I discovered my lower arm was in a cast that looped around my thumb.
Lola said, “You broke your wrist in the accident.”
The accident!
I asked, “Is Denver okay?”
“He’s fine. He’s been at your bedside all day, but we finally made them go get something to eat. They both looked like they were going to fall over.”
Both of them? Were Denver and Mesquite both here? I looked for a clock –they should be at the pay-per-view!
“Doctor Strand will be in to see you. If everything looks okay you’ll be discharged in a few days.”
I nodded and closed my eyes, trying to get the pounding in my head to stop.
*
Low voices woke me the next time, but I was too tired to open my eyes.
Denver said, “It’s my fault, man. I shouldn’t have tried to drive in that weather-”
“Come on, Denver. We both know it wasn’t your fault,” Mesquite answered. “It’s because that crazy ass fan tried to run you off the road.”
So that is what happened. The crazy brunette had followed us – or had seen on Twitter where Denver was going.
“I should’ve made her stay at the hotel, but we needed to talk.”
He was right. We had needed to talk. And I was so glad we had.
Mesquite sighed. “It’s my fault. I’m the one who pushed her to choose. I should have just let things happen on their own.”
No, it wasn’t his fault at all. Why would he think that?
“When they pulled her out of the car all I could think was she was right. I am the wrong guy for her,” Denver said in a low tone. “And that killed me. I hated not being able to do anything for her. For fuck’s sake I couldn’t even protect her.”
My heart ached. No! He was wrong. He was a wonderful man.
Mesquite said, “Don’t beat yourself up, man. The only thing we can do is be there for her and let her process things on her own terms.”
But I had made my choice! They both knew it. I wanted Mesquite! My head began to pound and I moaned. Someone else entered the room and the pain went away as something warm spread throughout my veins.
January 26
Mesquite never left my side, though I told him it was silly to stay.
“For the last time – I’m not leaving, so stop telling me I can.”
He held the spoon with jello on it, waiting for me to take a bite. I glared, but opened my mouth.
When I’d swallowed the green goo I said, “You do realize that I can feed myself.”
�
�Humor me.”
He held up another spoonful.
“I’d be more impressed if you snuck some fast food in here.”
He laughed. “I’m sure. I’ll try to bring you something good for dinner.”
It felt like we were dancing around the accident and I didn’t like it. Why hadn’t he mentioned it? And where in the hell was Denver?
I bit my lip and asked, “Are we ever going to talk about it?”
He put the spoon on the tray and said, “I wasn’t sure if you were ready.”
There wasn’t really a good time to talk about an accident, but I didn’t voice my thoughts.
“I remember leaving the bistro with Denver. We were driving – he was going slow – and then out of nowhere something hit my side of the car. It’s a bit fuzzy after that. The nurse told me they had to cut me from the car.”
Mesquite nodded. “When that woman ran into the car it caused the car to spin into a light pole and then it flipped over. That’s why they couldn’t get you out. They said it was pretty damn bad.”
“It was the same woman from before, wasn’t it?”
I thought I remembered seeing her dark hair, but I couldn’t be sure. Maybe I’d imagined it?
“Yeah, it was. She’s in jail right now. Apparently she keeps asking for Denver. Fucking psycho.”
I agreed. That woman was a fucking psycho.
I licked my suddenly dry lips and asked, “Where is Denver?”
I knew he’d been in the room after the accident, but he hadn’t been back since I’d woken up. And it kind of hurt. He really didn’t want to be friends after all.
“He’s at home getting ready for the international tour. He’s planning on meeting us in Tampa, though. He wants to see you before he leaves.”
I took in a deep breath. Mesquite had been wonderful to me over the last few days, but I honestly just wanted to be alone. I needed to process everything that’d happened and that wouldn’t occur with him fussing over me.
“Mesquite, I think I’m going to go home for a few weeks – not go to Tampa. I just need to regroup.”
He stared at me. Would this be too much for him to handle? The last time I told him I needed space he’d gotten back with his ex.
I hated that my mind jumped right to that memory.
He finally nodded. “Okay. But I’m going to text you constantly to make sure you’re okay. And I might even pop in a few times.”
I laughed, relief filling my body. “Deal.”
“How long will you have to go to physical therapy for your wrist?”
“The doctor said he thought a month or so, but we won’t know until the cast comes off, which will be four weeks.”
He was taking this news well, which surprised me. I’d expected more of a fight. He moved the tray aside and got next to me on the tiny hospital bed so that he was spooning me. I’m sure we looked like a sight, but I didn’t care. I felt safe in his arms.
“Thank you.” I said.
“For what?”
“For being here for me.”
He kissed the top of my head. “There’s no place I’d rather be.”
January 28
I’d never been so glad to be in my own clothes. Mesquite had brought me an outfit to wear once the doctor said I was being released. He helped me hook my bra. Okay. That was something that might present a problem with a broken wrist.
He popped the elastic band and said into my ear, “You still sure you want to go home? It’d be easier if I were there to help you dress.”
His words caused a warm fluttering in my stomach. Good lord, what was wrong with me? He hadn’t meant anything sexual with his statement and yet I was taking it that way.
I replied, “I’m sure. I’ll be fine – at least for a few days.”
He chuckled. “Then I’ll be there to check on you in three days.”
I slipped my shirt on and turned. “Ready?”
“I am if you are.”
Nodding, I sat in the wheelchair. It was pretty dumb that I had to be wheeled out, but I understood it was hospital policy.
Lola entered the room and said, “Look at you! Are you ready to go?”
“We are,” Mesquite answered.
Lola got behind me and began pushing the wheelchair toward the elevators. I glanced up at her and smiled.
“Thank you for everything that you’ve done for me. You were my favorite nurse while I was here.”
She chuckled. “I won’t tell the others, I swear.” Then she said, “Be sure to keep in touch and let us know how you’re doing.”
“I will.”
We reached the first floor and I was relieved to see that there wasn’t any snow on the streets outside. It was a surprising reaction.
Mesquite noticed the look on my face and said, “It’s okay, Little Pasty.”
If Lola thought my nickname was strange she didn’t let it show. Instead she helped me into the car. I was still pretty bruised up and winced when she buckled the seatbelt.
“Thank you – for everything.”
She smiled. “I’ve given you discharge papers to Mesquite as well as your prescriptions for pain medicine. Don’t be scared to take them if you’re hurting.”
Pain pills made me sick to my stomach and I knew I wouldn’t be getting the prescription filled, but didn’t voice my thought to Lola. I nodded and she gave me a gentle hug before closing the car door.
Mesquite got in the driver’s seat and we left the hospital.
“She said they gave you a shot that should help you be comfortable on the flight home, but I went ahead and booked us first class seats just to be safe.”
At my puzzled expression he went on, “I’m not just going to put you on a plane, Jamie. I’m going to make sure you’re settled before I head to Florida.”
“Thank you.”
The plane ride back home wasn’t as bad as I’d thought it would be, but I also slept for most of it. Mesquite’s shoulder made the best pillow – to the point that I’m certain I drooled on him. He didn’t complain though.
When we landed there was a limo waiting to take us to my house. Mesquite brought our things in and helped me into bed. My soft, squishy bedding felt like heaven after the hospital.
“I’m going to make some dinner. What sounds good?”
“Grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup,” I mumbled as I drifted off to sleep.
He woke me later to feed me. When I had eaten all that I could handle, he got in bed with me and held me in his arms.
“I was so damn scared when Denver called,” he said as he kissed my temple. “He wasn’t making sense and all he kept saying was that you were hurt.”
I lifted my head so I could see his face.
“When I got to the hospital they wouldn’t let me see you because I wasn’t a family member. I told them they couldn’t stop me and that it would be better to just show me to your room because, one way or another, I was going to find you.”
I grinned. “That was probably terrifying for them.”
I could only imagine how scary Mesquite had been in that kind of mood.
“You laugh, but I was serious. I would have searched each room until I found you. Thank god they had common sense and decided to tell me where you were.” He paused. “When I got to the room they were getting ready to take you to surgery to pin your wrist. You were still pretty out of it.”
“I don’t remember anything from that evening.”
He caressed my cheek. “You looked so tiny on that bed and I felt helpless because there wasn’t anything I could do to help.”
“I’m glad you were there.”
He pulled me against his chest. “Me too, Jamie. Me too.”
I feel asleep in his arms – something I knew I would never get tired of.
January 30
Mesquite finally left, though I could tell he didn’t want to. I was getting around fine and had even managed to put my bra on myself.
He kissed the back of my neck and said, “Let
’s take your bra off one more time just to be sure you can do it again.”
Laughing, I pulled away from him. “I know what you’re doing, Mesquite, and it ain’t going to happen.”
He wiggled his eyebrows at me, but I wasn’t in the mood to play.
“Text me when you get home.”
He pouted. “I will. And let me know if you hear from Denver. I’m surprised he hasn’t texted you.”
I was surprised, too, especially since I’d texted him.
I walked Mesquite to the door and kissed him on the lips. “I’ll see you in a few days.”
Mesquite would be flying back to see me after the T.V. tapings. I was looking forward having some time to myself.
“Don’t forget to make an appointment with the physical therapist,” Mesquite said as he stepped onto the porch.
I shivered. “I will.”
I wasn’t looking forward to it, but I would. He kissed me one last time and went to the waiting cab. I watched until I couldn’t see the car anymore and then I went inside. The tears were falling before I could stop them and I sat on the floor, leaning against the door.
Why had I let him leave? I thought about picking up the phone and telling him to come back. He would – I knew he would. But then that would make me weak. And I wasn’t weak! Swallowing the last of my tears, I stood. I wasn’t weak.
February 1
Mesquite called to say he couldn’t come to see me this weekend because of work. I hated how much it hurt. Didn’t he know that I needed him?
February 2
Denver ignored another text message from me. He was taking a page from my book, as I was ignoring Mesquite. I just didn’t want to talk to anyone right now other than Denver. Why was he ignoring me?
February 3
Mesquite threatened to send my mother over if I didn’t answer my phone. Knowing he wasn’t bluffing, I called him back.
“Jamie, are you okay?”
I sighed. “Yes. I’m just tired.”
That wasn’t a lie, either. I felt mentally and physically exhausted.
“I’m worried about you.”