“Okay, so I assume this is all down to a crazy diet? What we talking?”
I consider lying, but I get the feeling Hulk would see through me. “Eight hundred calories a day.”
“Jeez! No wonder you’re dizzy. And you were at the gym?” he asks incredulously.
“Yes.” I tell him about the regime Rhys planned for me and it’s only when I see his reaction that I realise I might have been doing a smidge too much.
Hulk stares at me for a long minute, the horror evident on his face. “Right. Well, that needs to stop immediately. And you need a sandwich, stat.”
Hulk gets me a sandwich and a sweet cup of tea just before the porter arrives to take me for my scans. By the time I’m finished, it’s 10:00 p.m., and Hulk informs me the doctor wantsto keep me in overnight. I don’t have a change of clothes, and I don’t want to bother Rhys by asking him to bring in a set of pyjamas, so I just sleep in my clothes. I check my phone to see if I’ve missed any messages from Rhys and try not to feel disappointed that I haven’t heard from him since he went home earlier.
He didn’t even check in.
Curling up on my side, I try to ignore the bright lights and hustle and bustle of the A&E department and close my eyes. Alone.
Chapter 24
Fat, ugly hags
“So, it’s just concussion and bruising?” I ask the doctor standing in front of me. He’s older than Dr Price, with thinning hair, and glasses on the end of his nose.
“That’s right,” he says over his glasses. “You’re very lucky, all things considered. You’re free to go once pharmacy drops off your prescription. I’ve sorted you out with some strong pain killers, and here’s a leaflet with some advice about eating well.”
“Thank you.” I take the leaflet from his outstretched hand, though I have no intention of reading it.
“I don’t want you driving for a few days, either. Do you have someone to take you home?”
I’d hoped Rhys would be here to take me home, but he hasn’t picked up any of my calls or messages from this morning.
“I’ll get a taxi,” I say, but this doesn’t satisfy him, so I add, “My husband will be home when I get there.”
“Alright,” he says reluctantly. “Make sure to take better care of yourself. No more exercising on an empty stomach.”
I nod and thank him as he leaves. I’m not sure if Rhys will actually be there when I get home, but I’m hoping to have enough time to have a shower and put on some fresh clothes before he sees me. My meds only take twenty minutes to arrive, then I grab my phone and hoodie and make my way outside. I’m still a little dizzy and unsteady on my feet, so I take my time. My taxi isn’t due for another ten minutes anyway.
I stop at the toilet on my way out and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I wash my hands. I look a state. The left side of my face is mottled red and purple from my cheekbone to my forehead and all around my eye. There’s a gash splitting my left eyebrow in half, travelling straight up my forehead and disappearing into my hairline. By the looks of the blood matting my hair, the cut ends about two inches into my scalp. My skin is pale, even by my standards, verging on grey. In a nutshell, I look like shit. I definitely have some work to do before I let Rhys see me again.
My phone beeps with an alert from my driver to say he’s arrived, so I hurry as fast as my wobbly legs will allow to the exit and climb in. I give him my address and we’re soon hurtling down the main road.
As we pull up to my house, I see Rhys’s car in the drive. Mine is missing, and it takes me a few minutes to realise it’ll still be in the gym carpark. Sighing, I thank the driver, transfer the fare, and head towards my front door. I figure I’ll just say a quick hello and run upstairs to make myself presentable before explaining everything properly to Rhys, so I open the door and call out.
“Rhys? I’m home!”
He doesn’t answer, but I hear a rustling from the living room and a muffled ‘Fuck’. I turn to the living room and step towards it, letting my imagination run away with me. I imagine catching him doing lines of drugs off the coffee table or getting off toweird porn. Then I walk in and see what he’s actually doing, and my heart sinks. I wish Ihadcaught him doing drugs or watching weird porn.
What I actually find him doing is lounging on our leather sofa stark naked with a skinny blonde straddling his lap.
“Dr Price!” I’m lost for words when I realise the woman who’d been in charge of my medical care last night, the doctor who knew I was married to Rhys, is now riding my husband in my living room. At least she has the decency to look embarrassed.
“Maddie!” she says, trying to smile and cover her chest with a cushion as if this is perfectly normal. I don’t bother to tell her she got my name wrong. “I didn’t realise you’d be getting out of hospital so soon. How are you feeling?”
A sudden surge of rage fills me. “How about you get off my husband’s dick and we’ll have a nice chat over a cup of tea?”
Dr Price – I feel ridiculous thinking of her by her title, but I don’t know her first name – looks as if she’s about to accept, when I explode.
“I have a head injury. I’ve been in hospital for nearly twenty-four hours, and I’ve just come home to find my doctor fucking my husband! How do you think I feel?”
My head feels like it’s being split open with an axe, but I’m too far gone to care
