by L. R. Olson
I know what I have to do. I pull out my phone.
I need you. I’m in Stavanger. Are you still in Europe?
I only have to wait a few seconds before I feel the buzz of an incoming text.
I can be there tomorrow.
****
“Faen.”
Christian’s sudden exclamation stirs me from sleep. My brain is muddled, and it takes a moment for me to realize he’s cursing in Norwegian. I’ve heard that exclamation enough from Max to know what it is. “What’s wrong?”
Pain ripples down my esophagus as I speak. It’s like I’m swallowing broken glass. Instinctively, my hand goes to my throat. Something is wrong. I feel sweaty. Fever. My head feels murky, my body aches. It’s something I’ve had before and I know it well. Shit. I’m sick.
Christian has his phone in hand and moves off the bed, heading to his dresser. “Kirstin. She took some pills. She was in the hospital apparently.”
Shock gives me a moment of clarity, and I forget how crappy I feel. “My god.”
“She won’t say if it was accidental or on purpose.” He grabs jeans and a t-shirt. He’s flustered; I’ve never seen him so uneasy. “I’m so sorry, but I need to go see her. Are you okay here?”
“Of course.” I glance at my phone. 8 a.m. What can I say? I’m feeling rather stunned by it all. An illogical, selfish part of me wonders…if we stayed together, would he always pick her over me? He heads into the bathroom and brushes his teeth. This thought is immediately followed by guilt. We are just a summer fling, while Kirstin will be in his life forever. “Yeah. I’m fine. Of course you have to go.”
He grabs his wallet from the dresser. “I’ll be back soon.”
Keys in hand, he gives me a quick kiss on the lips, and then he’s gone. I hear him murmuring something downstairs but barely care. Now that he has left, the full force of my illness hits me. The front door shuts. He’s left the house. Part of me feels slightly abandoned, but most of me is glad he’s gone because I feel like shit, and I sure as hell don’t want him to see me ill.
I’m not fine.
I have a fever, I can feel it burning from the inside out. My body is rebelling. I should have known it would punish me for having fun. Or maybe this is my punishment for lying to Christian. I grope for my phone on the bedside table and text Heidi.
Can you come up here please?
I shouldn’t have stayed out in the rain at that cottage. Shouldn’t have visited so many public places. Shouldn’t have stayed up so many late nights. I drop my phone on the bed and close my eyes, waiting. A few moments later I’m vaguely aware of the door opening.
“Hope?”
“Hmm?”
She settles on the bed next to me and presses her hand to my head. “You have a fever. I’m going to call your mom.”
Somehow I find superhuman strength and grab her wrist. “No. Don’t you dare. It’s fine. Just need some meds and I.V.”
Her eyes are wide with worry. “Shit, Hope.”
She’s scared. Poor thing. She’s never had to deal with this. I feel guilty for being sick, guiltier still for manipulating her. “Call my mom and I’ll have to go home. You’ll be alone.”
She sighs, hesitating. I know I’m not being fair. But sometimes you have to fight dirty to get what you want. If I’m going to leave, I’m going to leave on my own terms. I’m not going to have my mom rushing here on a wave of parental concern, confusing and shocking Christian. I don’t want to see the pity in his gaze. Not ever. I don’t want him to look at me the same way he looks at Kirstin.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, taking her hand in mine. Every word spoken, every swallow hurts. “Please. Just take me to the clinic and then we’ll decide.”
She’s already showered and dressed. I can see the warring within her gaze. She knows the responsible thing to do is to call my mom, but she also wants to stay in Europe. “Okay. I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“It will be fine.” I sit up and grab my sweatshirt. My head pounds with the movement and I have to bite back my groan. “I just need some antibiotics, or steroids. And if the clinic says to, I swear I’ll call my mom.”
She nods reluctantly as she helps me into my jeans. “You’ve gained weight.”
I release a harsh laugh as I tug on my tennis shoes. Any other woman would be horrified to hear that. “I have. That’s good…right?”
She nods encouragingly. “I thought it meant…”
I don’t miss the flush of her face. She thought I was getting better. I move to the bathroom and brush my teeth. Maybe I did too…deep down. There’s a brief moment of panic when I wonder if this sickness is a precursor of something worse. Of more to come. Of the end. A brief moment that passes quickly as I take charge. I’ve been worse. Way worse. In fact, really it’s not that bad compared to what I’ve gone through. I leave the bathroom and grab my phone and wallet.
Heidi wraps her arm around my waist and helps me down the steps. “Did you tell Christian?”
Each step makes my head pound; my temples feel as if they’re going to explode. “No.”
“Hope.”
“I can’t.” We’re halfway down the steps. I can hear Audrey and Max in the kitchen, laughing together murmuring sweet words. I’m so envious of their relationship it hurts. “We leave in two days. There’s no reason to tell him.”
Her arm tightens. “Audrey said Christian hasn’t had a serious girlfriend in a long time. He’s always been kind, but aloof toward the women he dates. She said—”
“Stop,” I snap, annoyed that she’s taken his side. Or maybe I’m annoyed that she’s questioning my decisions, when she followed a man to France she just met. She doesn’t understand the pain Christian has gone through, the fact that his mother wants me out of her son’s life. “A relationship won’t work. Even if I wasn’t sick.”
She looks hurt as she presses her lips into a firm line. We’re almost to the bottom of the stairs. I should feel guilty about snapping at her, but my head throbs too much to care. I don’t want to talk about this right now. Maybe not ever.
“Ugh, I can’t believe him,” Audrey says, her accent thicker than normal. She paces the kitchen in all of her French fury. “Running off to her. You know she was probably faking it. Or worse, she did it on purpose. Why does he have such a soft spot for her?”
So they aren’t whispering words of love, they’re complaining about Kirstin. My assumption that Christian runs to Kirstin whenever she makes her siren’s call is correct. And Audrey and Max seem to like her about as much as I do. But surely the situation is different; he couldn’t say no. She’s tried to kill herself, for god’s sake.
Still, I can’t deny that Audrey’s comment runs through my mind over and over.
Why does he have such a soft spot for her?
If I was staying, I’d be worried about always coming second. If we were actually dating, I might be annoyed that there was another woman. But I’m not staying. We’re not dating. I’m leaving.
“Audrey,” Max warns as he spots us. He’s leaning against the counter, coffee mug in hand. He’s so healthy and strong that I’m envious. “Morning, Ladies.”
Audrey spins around to face us, a forced smile lifting her lips. “Good morning, how…” It only takes a second for her to realize something is wrong. Her eyes narrow, her gaze focuses on me. I must look like hell. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, Hope just isn’t feeling well.” Heidi’s smile looks as fake as Audrey’s did moments ago. “Going to take her to the clinic.”
“Oh. Alright.” I know Audrey cares. But she’s also suspicious. Does she think I’m pulling a Kirstin and trying to get attention? She’s protective of Christian, and if I didn’t feel like shit, I’d appreciate her loyalty. “Should I—”
“No,” I snap as I reach into the refrigerator for a water bottle. “Don’t call Christian. I just need some fluids, antibiotics. Christian has enough to deal with. Please, don’t.”
She hesitates, g
lances at Max who is already on the phone calling for a taxi, and I can tell she doesn’t like keeping this from Christian. I drink my water but every swallow stings. Hell, she’ll probably call him the moment we leave for the clinic.
Finally, she nods. “Okay.”
Max hangs up the phone. “Cab will be here any minute.” I don’t miss the way his concerned gaze is on me. He grabs a banana and shoves it into my hand. “Eat this.”
I smile my thanks. Heidi leads me to a stool. They watch me as they speak softly. And even though they keep their voices low, their worried gazes keep coming back to me. I hate this. Hate the stares. The pity. The worry. I’m not sure how much time has gone by. It seems like only moments, but suddenly Heidi is at my side.
“Cab is here.” She slides her arm around my waist. Together, we leave the kitchen and make our way to the front stoop. The tourists are already there, strolling the cobbled streets, taking pictures. A large cruise ship dominates the dock.
“You are going to be okay, right?” Heidi asks as we move down the cobbled road to where the cab waits below. “Shit, Hope, I don’t know how you do it.”
Despite feeling completely dizzy, I straighten away from her. I can do this. I can walk on my own. “I always get better, eventually.”
Until one day I won’t.
“No, not that…”
She doesn’t wonder how I deal with illness, but how I deal with the fact that I’m going to die soon. “I promise. I’ll be fine.”
We reach the cab and Heidi helps me inside. I’m barely aware of her telling the man where to go. I’m freezing. I cuddle next to Heidi, soaking up her warmth. She wraps her arm around me, holding me close. My lashes flutter down. I realize…I want Christian here. I want his arm around me. His warmth. His strength. His calm reassurance.
“Your mom is going to kill me.”
I rest my head on her shoulder. “I’ll be fine. It’s happened many times before.”
I should feel guilty, but I can’t. I’m so damn tired of feeling guilty.
“Oh Hope. I’m so sorry.”
I know what she means. She’s not sorry my trip is ruined. Not sorry that I’m sick. That she doesn’t know what to do, or say. She’s sorry that she’s healthy and I’m dying. Sorry that while I’m rotting in a hospital she’ll be living. “I know.”
She murmurs something, but I am drifting…drifting… The darkness is so welcoming, so comforting. Christian is looking down at me, his smile so pure, so gorgeous that I can’t help but smile back at him.
“Don’t leave.” Christian’s voice whispers through my muddled mind. “Stay here, stay with me.”
“Hope?”
Heidi’s voice reaches through the fog. I wake as the cab is pulling up alongside the clinic. I know my mom will find out in a day or two when the insurance goes through. I plan to be better by then and on my way home. Away from Christian.
I’m helped into a wheelchair and swept inside where brilliant, fluorescent lights pound down, throbbing in time to my headache. An older woman with brown hair pulled into a tight bun is leaning over me. Heidi is fumbling to tell her my medical history.
“Is Dr. Lund here?” I interrupt.
The nurse nods. “Do you know her?”
“Yes. Please, if she’s not busy…”
“Alright.” She’s all concern and business as she takes my blood pressure. “Let’s get some fluids into you. I’m going to draw some blood, check your numbers, alright?”
Suddenly Christian’s mom is there, her brows drawn together in the same way that her son does when he’s thinking. Despite the fact that she isn’t sure about me, I like this lady. She seems kind. Her eyes remind me of Christians. So blue. Must be a Norwegian thing. Her hands are cool, soft, and efficient as she touches my forehead.
“Where is my son?” she asks.
Heidi flushes. “He doesn’t know. He went to see his friend Kirstin.”
I don’t miss the way Dr. Lund’s mouth tightens. A surge of validation rushes through me. So, she doesn’t appreciate Kirstin either. I knew I liked this lady. She wheels me into a room. I hear her say something about dehydration to the nurse. It’s happened before, and I know once I get an I.V. I’ll feel a million times better. She helps me onto a cot. I barely feel the needle as it pierces my skin. I’m so used to them by now.
“You’ll be alright in no time at all.” She brushes my hair back in a motherly way. “Just rest.”
And so I close my eyes and I sleep.
Chapter 15
Travel to Sweden
Break a heart…or two
When I wake up the sun is shining through the skylight above Christian’s bed. For a long moment I’m confused, my mind foggy, as I lay there, searching my muddled brain and knowing something important happened, but unable to remember what.
Fever. Kirstin. The clinic. Heidi helping me into bed.
Did he return home last night? If he did, I don’t remember. I move tentatively, stretching my legs. I’m stiff, a little tired. But I feel much better. Vaguely I recall Heidi waking me sometime last night and shoving medicine down my throat. It all seems like a dream. I owe my cousin big-time.
A mild case of strep throat, but because my immune system is so shitty, my body over-reacted. Will Christian’s mom tell him? Hell, she probably already has. Maybe that’s why he hasn’t returned. Or maybe something horrible happened to Kirstin.
I roll onto my side.
Christian is sitting in a chair, looking out the window onto the backyard.
My heart leaps into my throat, and for a moment I think I’m imagining him. But nope. He’s here. Flesh and blood. The relief I feel is immediate. A warm rush of emotion pulses through me, making my chest feel tight. Emotions I have no right to feel. Seeing him is like seeing the first, fresh snowfall of the year.
Love.
I take in a deep, trembling breath and squash the thought. I am not in love with a man I just met. I won’t believe it. He looks serious and tired, his elbows braced on his knees, his hair mussed. How long has he been there?
“Morning,” he says.
Startled, I glance at the clock. Morning? Ten. Shit. I slept all yesterday and the entire night. Then I remember Kirstin. Is that why he looks upset? A surge of guilt and panic races through me as I imagine the worst. I manage to sit up against the pillows. “Is she okay? What happened?”
“Kirstin?” He releases a wry laugh and rakes his hands through his hair, leaving it even more disheveled. If I was his girlfriend, I’d comb it back into place with my fingers. I’d settle on his lap, wrap my arms around his neck and offer him comfort. “The text was a lie.”
I pause for a moment, confused. The concept of concocting such an extreme lie intrigues and disgusts me. Who the hell is this woman? “She lied about suicide?”
“Yes.” He stands and moves closer to the window. He’s wearing jeans and a gray sweater that hugs his muscled chest. “She was quite drunk, but fine. She lied.”
I can’t quite decide if she’s a monster or if she’s insane. Maybe both. She has balls, I’ll give her that much. Bat-shit crazy balls. It’s not lost on me that while she tries anything she can to get him, I’m trying to push him away.
My hands are trembling as I roll back the bedspread. From my illness, or from seeing Christian, I’m not sure. I stand. A wave of dizziness washes over me and thoughts of psycho Kirstin fall to the wayside. I rest my hand on the headboard until my balance is steady. I need food. Nourishment. I need time to think, to plan. “Well, that’s good, right?”
He just nods his head. Something is wrong with him. He’s acting odd. Angry because Kirstin lied? Or maybe because Audrey and Max told him she was crazy, but he didn’t listen. I shouldn’t care. I reach for a sweatshirt and pull it over my head. Seeing him here, now, is almost painful. I can barely look at him without feeling the sting of tears. How will he react when I leave?
He turns toward me. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”
I fe
el the blood drain from my face. He knows. Did his mom tell him? No, Audrey and Max. I knew they would, but I felt so shitty I hadn’t really cared. “There’s nothing you could have done. You were gone before I even realized how I felt.”
I reach for my sweats, mostly to avoid his gaze. I have the horrible feeling he’s going to see right through me, know my every lie. “Besides, someone overdosing is a bit more important than a little fever.”
He crosses his arms over his chest, his biceps flexing, and leans against his desk. “Audrey and Max said you looked terrible.”
I laugh, trying to brush it off. This conversation is making me more and more uncomfortable. “It was nothing. Some antibiotics, and I’m fine. Even saw your mom there. Although you should make sure you go to the clinic if your throat starts to hurt. Strep, they said.”
His jaw clenches, his gaze is still pinned to me. He knows I’m avoiding, and my response isn’t what he was looking for. “Hope, you should have told me. I know you like to be independent, strong, but I could have taken you to the clinic at least. I would have stayed here. Taken care of you.”
He’s acting like I tried to trick him. I’m growing more and more annoyed, and I’m not even sure why. Maybe it’s not his business. Or maybe, deep down, I didn’t want to ask him because then he would have had to choose between me and Kirstin.
I grab my bathroom bag. “Kirstin tried to kill herself. That was more important.”
At least, she pretended she had. God, that woman needs help. I start around the bed, headed toward the bathroom to escape, but as I move by him, he reaches out and takes my hand.
His touch is electric. Startling. I jerk my gaze to his. I see it there…exactly what I didn’t want to see. Pity. I don’t want a guy to look at me like I’m his charity project. I want him to look at me like I’m a woman.