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Fran also remembered Tessa’s accident.
We sit down, and Cora tells me what happened. Apparently, a young man had been texting and failed to stop at the stop sign. He rammed into them from the back but luckily, he had already started applying the breaks, thus lessening the impact.
Cora seems different. Detached. She folds her hands across her chest. We sit wordlessly as if we’re strangers rather than two people expecting a baby together.
I’m in turmoil, but one thing is clear. Getting close to Cora again has been a mistake. This accident, which could have turned out so differently, is a warning. A warning to protect myself. Cora is dangerous for me. I’m already in so deep, but there’s still room to escape. I handled the whole thing wrong from the very beginning, and I feel like punching myself.
When she told me she was pregnant, I should have accepted responsibility and supported her but not slept with her. I was kidding myself into thinking that I could have sex with her and keep my feelings in check. For the last few weeks, I’ve even allowed myself to fantasize about a life with Cora and our baby. I’d forgotten the pain of loss and of leaving yourself vulnerable to another human being.
Cora is a great person. Any man would be lucky to have her. I’m just not that man. Somehow, I have to stay away from her. I was lucky to manage to crawl out of that dark hole once. I can’t handle anything like that again.
Fran and Martin come out of one of the cubicles, and Cora and I stand up.
“She’s fine, and so is the baby,” Martin says. “That asshole is lucky that he walked free,” he says hotly. “Are you sure you don’t want to press charges?”
“I’m sure,” Fran says.
“I’m glad you’re both okay.” I wish I could be more comforting, but I just want to get out of the hospital. I feel as if the walls are closing in. “I’ll drop Cora home.” I take her arm and propel her out of the ER.
Outside, she shakes my hand loose and marches to the car. I unlock it and open the door for her. I’m expecting her to say something on the way, but she remains tight-lipped. It’s painful to see her like this. I wish that I could soften the tension between us. I want to ask her what the matter is. Maybe even take her upstairs to her apartment and hold her in my arms. But what would be the point of that when I intend to back off and create some space between us?
I bring the car to a stop outside her apartment. “Are you okay?”
She turns to me, and my heart constricts with pain at the sad, haunted look on her face. My protective instincts rise to the surface, and I fight to push them away.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” she says. “Thanks for the ride home.”
I should say something, but I don’t, and she gets out of the car, and without looking back once, she hurries to the building entrance. Ten minutes after she disappears inside, I’m still in the same spot.
***
I’m glad when Monday rolls around. Yesterday was the longest Sunday I’ve had in a long time. Cora and I did not speak at all, which is what I want, but it took every ounce of energy I had to fight against calling her.
Work is a life saver, and I’m glad that I have appointments back-to-back today. Every so often thoughts of Cora will sneak into my mind, and I’ll find myself wondering what she’s doing.
In the afternoon, a knock comes on my door, and I call out for the person to enter. It’s my secretary, Brenda. She’s holding a printout.
“Remember the three-day conference in Carlsbad at the end of the week? You never gave me a definite answer on if you’re going or not.”
I search my memory for the conference that she’s talking about. It comes to me. The topic is reproductive health and fertility. It’s on the tip of my tongue to say no, but before I do, a thought pops into my mind. Staying in LA is torture. I can’t stop thinking about Cora. Knowing how close she is makes it harder and harder to stay away. I hadn’t planned on attending that conference but now two days by the beach is sounding very attractive.
“Book me a room. I’ll drive down.”
Brenda looks surprised, but she doesn’t comment. She simply nods and then leaves my office.
Before I settle back to work, my cell phone rings, and my heart takes on a faster beat. My first thought is that it’s Cora. Disappointment washes over me when I see my mother’s number on the screen. That feeling is immediately followed by guilt. I answer it and try to inject some enthusiasm into my voice.
