As soon as I opened the door, she stammered, “Y-you gotta come.Now.”
I remember my boots hitting the gravel too hard and the air feeling too thick in my lungs.The way the crew was clustered around the base of the scaffolding, shouting words I couldn’t make sense of.All except for one.A name.
Leo.
He was lying within a tangle of ropes that should’ve been replaced weeks earlier.Safety inspections were my responsibility as foreman, but I’d been juggling a thousand other things while Michael squeezed every last dollar out of the budget.So I’d delegated it, stupidly assuming that one of the clock-watching idiots could handle it without me double-checking.
Leo had fallen three stories.
I don’t remember much after that.Just the metallic taste in my mouth and the sick, helpless knowledge that I couldn’t do a single thing to change what had happened.
I should’ve fucking been there.I was the foreman.
But I’d been stretched so thin… worked into the ground.
I should’ve been there anyway.
I force my eyes to open, and the room snaps back into focus.
The door Chloe went through is still shut.My hands ball into fists.I want to do something to help her, but I can’t.It makes my skin crawl.
It’s just a mole check, Ethan.It’s fine.
She’s young and healthy and resilient.
Everything will be fine.
That’s what I said before, though, isn’t it?One of the many lies I told myself along with: miracles can happen.
It’s all bullshit.
If something can go wrong, it will.
Now Chloe is in that room, worried and alone, and I’m out here and?—
The doctor’s door swings open, and I’m on my feet before I even realize it.
Chloe steps through and paces toward me, a smile tugging at her lips, not forced or fake.
This one’s real.
She’s so bright, so painfully beautiful, she almost knocks me to my knees.
“It’s okay,” she says.
All the air in my lungs rushes out.“Yeah?”
She nods, her eyes shining.“Dr.Rhea wasn’t concerned about the mole.He said it looked benign.He removed it anyway and is sending it away to be extra sure, but if he’s not worried, then neither am I.”
A neon-yellow bandaid covers the spot.A reminder that things could’ve gone very differently.
Then what would I have done?
Chloe continues smiling, oblivious to the panic still flooding my system.“I have to wait a week before surfing again, but that’s a small price to pay.”
I manage a smile of my own, letting her coconut scent fill my lungs, replacing the tension coiling in my body with relief.“That’s really great.”
She smooths the crease lodged between my brows with her thumb, then goes off to chat with the receptionist while I wait for the strength to return to my legs.
