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I feel relieved. The other night with Ben—it wasn’t like I thought. He didn’t come to hurt me. He came because, as he said, Sienna asked him to check up on me. He was telling the truth. He and Caitlin had broken up and I think now that what happened is that, in anger, jealousy and in spite, she took it on herself to get close to me and try and ruin my life, which she did by telling Sienna about her father. Ben didn’t have anything to do with it. For all I know, he doesn’t know she’s dead.
“What happens now?” Sienna asks, her face wet and red. “Do I even get to see him anymore?”
“Of course you do, honey. He’s still your dad,” I try saying, but it falls on deaf ears as, all of a sudden, she says she hates me again before pulling away from me, turning, running to her room. The door slams with such ferocity that a picture on the other side falls, slamming to the earth, shattering, and I want to ask if everything is okay, if she is okay—to tell her to be careful of the broken glass—but I don’t because I need to give her space, I need to leave her alone for now, I need to give her time to breathe.
In the moment, I don’t think things can get any worse.
Twenty-Seven
I get a text from Luke. Hey there, it reads. Just wanted to check in and see how you’re holding up. The text is like one of those lifebuoys that lifeguards toss into the water to save someone who’s drowning. I latch on to it, desperate to stay afloat.
Honestly? Not well. I’m a wreck, I say. I clutch my phone in my hands, dropping down onto the sofa, feeling tears well in my eyes, threatening to spill over.
You want to talk about it? he asks, and I do, but it’s too much to type into a text. I wouldn’t even know where to begin. I haven’t seen Luke since what happened with Caitlin, and now there’s so much more with Ben and Sienna.
As if he can read my mind, Luke texts again before I can respond, Let’s meet for a drink, suggesting a bar between our apartments.
That’s sweet. But I don’t want to take you away from Penelope, I say, remembering how upset she was the night Luke worked late, and how she thought he was cheating on her with another woman. I’ll be fine. I just need some time for things to diffuse, I say, as if it’s that simple, as if time can heal all wounds.
Penelope is pissed again. Giving me the silent treatment. I’m being selfish. I could use a drink and someone to talk to too, Luke says and I feel a wave of relief wash over me. It’s not that I want Penelope to be mad at him. It’s that there is nothing more I want in this moment than to talk to a friend, and so I say okay.
I rise from the sofa. I go to Sienna’s door and gently knock. “Sienna,” I say, leaning into it, knowing without testing the knob that it’s locked.
“What?” she snarls.
I take a breath. “I need to run out for a few things,” I say, feeling bad lying to her again. “I won’t be gone long. Maybe an hour or hour and a half at the most.” Sienna is quiet. “Would that be okay?” I ask, walking on eggshells. “I can stay home too. I don’t have to do it tonight.”
“Just go,” she says, and at first I’m indecisive, but then I decide to go. Sienna needs time to be alone. She needs breathing room. I don’t want to suffocate her.
I change my clothes and run a brush through my hair. I try and do something with my makeup to look more put together, but it’s not working and so I give up.
It’s dark outside by the time I leave, the cold air against my face numbing. I’m thinking about myself and what I need—a drink and a friend—and what Sienna needs—time by herself without me breathing down her neck.
I’m not thinking about what’s been happening to women in the city as I walk alone down the darkened city streets, leaving Sienna by herself in our apartment.
Luke is already at the bar when I arrive. He has a table for us. He waves me over as I walk in and I return the wave, picking my way through the crowded bar. When I reach him, I slip out of my coat before lowering myself into a chair. “Is this for me?” I ask, seeing a glass of white wine on the table.
“I thought I remembered that you liked chardonnay, but you don’t have to drink it if you don’t want. Feel free to order something else. You won’t hurt my feelings.”
“No,” I say, reaching for it. “This is perfect. It’s exactly what I wanted. Thank you.” I press the glass to my lips and sip, eager for the anesthetizing effects of the wine.
“I’ve been worried about you,” he says as I return the glass to the table, my hands wrapped around the stem.
“What are people saying at work?”
Luke was there at the hospital the day of the insulin overdose, though I don’t remember seeing him again after we ran into each other in the hall before Caitlin died, when he suggested going on a double date with Penelope and her friend.
“You know how it goes. The usual, lots of exaggeration, white lies and half-truths.” He pauses, and then says, “I wouldn’t mind hearing it from you, if you’re up to it.”
“I’m sure everything they said was true. I did it. She’s dead because of me.”
“Listen,” he says, his voice a balm when he speaks. He reaches his hand across the table to set it on mine, and it calms me. He leans in. “You show me one nurse who’s never made a medical mistake in his or her career and I’ll show you a liar.” He takes his hand back, reaching for his own drink and sips. “How did it happen?” he asks, lowering the glass.
I hate lying to him, but being honest isn’t an option, even with Luke. “I was taking shortcuts. I was moving too fast and wasn’t thinking. I didn’t scan the barcode on her wrist.”
“We’ve all done that before.”
“I hadn’t slept the night before, and I was beat. I wasn’t in the right mind to be at work, but you know how it is, how hard it is to take time off. It’s no excuse, I know. I fucked up. This is on me. We can’t be making mistakes like that, not when lives are at stake. When she started coding, I knew what I’d done and that the consequences could be deadly. My heart stopped, Luke. I couldn’t breathe. I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in my whole life. That was the worst part, that total paralysis. Now I keep thinking that if I hadn’t panicked, if I had responded more quickly, we could have saved her.”
