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I turned my head to see him lying on the ground a few feet away from me, his leg partially impaled as a result of a piece of wood from the fence. He looked at me helplessly as the burning in my hip spread. I was filled with panic as he closed his eyes and I begged him to keep them on me, which he did weakly.
Sirens approached minutes later, and I was screaming again in discomfort as they lifted me into the back of the ambulance. As the doors closed, I tried searching for Aaron, but instead, I saw her.
Sitting up without thinking, I pushed through the pain to get a clear look at her until the medics pinned me back down.
“That which does not kill us makes us stronger.”
? Friedrich Nietzsche
§§
Nina
Hours later, I was sitting at Aaron’s hospital bedside as the doctors informed him his surgery would consist of inserting pins and screws, and they went into further detail as to how it would proceed. Fixing his mangled leg might require two surgeries and months of recovery. I cried as my brother’s worst nightmare was realized. He wouldn’t be golfing for a very long time. Even a month away was a nightmare for a golfer. As it turned out, my injuries were minor. The fall had knocked my pelvis out of place, and there was severe bruising, but I managed to escape with both legs and a prescription for strong pain medication. Tears trickled one by one as I apologized to my brother for his pain and the part I played in taking away what meant most to him.
“It’s not like I won’t recover,” he said dryly. I was nowhere near being as comforted as his words tried to make me.
“I think my ex’s wife did this.” He eyed me carefully then exhaled slowly. “I think she tried to kill me. This is my fault. Jesus, Aaron, she could have killed you.” I sobbed as he listened to me tell the tale of Devin and his diabolical wife. He asked a question every so often but mostly just listened. I felt like I was finally coming clean to someone who had the right to reprimand me.
When I finished, Aaron was thoughtful for a long moment before he spoke. “Nope, sorry, even if that’s true, you didn’t do this. You didn’t even see the fucking car. I’m glad I was there. It sucks…” He winced in discomfort, adjusting himself on the bed. “But, Nina, that hit would have killed you.”
I continued to beg his forgiveness as he comforted me as he laid in the hospital bed.
“Nina, have you ever heard the saying ‘Every day is a Monday?’“
“No.” I sniffed into his bedding.
“Well, dear sister, when I was bingeing on Jack Daniels to get over Danielle, I swore the next day I wouldn’t do it again. And the next day I would, and I would swear to start over. This lasted for about six months. I treated every fucking day like it was a Monday, and when I fucked up, it became Sunday again. I just kept at it, some days knowing it was a lost cause, some days more of an optimist. Eventually, that day came.”
“I get it,” I said, wiping my nose.
“You didn’t do this to me. And tomorrow is your Monday.”
“I’ll feel guilty about this until I die.”
“And one day I may use it against you when it’s funny, but right now it’s not.”
After the cops showed up and questioned us for their mandatory amount of minutes, Aaron’s meds kicked in and took him into a peaceful sleep, after I assured him I wasn’t leaving. Some part of him thought I might be delusional about the incident being purposeful, but the part that believed me wanted me safely next to him, so I promised I’d stay until we figured it out.
I lied.
Exiting the hospital, I went from devastated to murderous in minutes. I called Devin’s secretary under false pretenses, stating I had an emergency and found out he was dining with his fair wife at The Chophouse. His secretary and I got along well, and I was sure this would be the last favor I asked.
Rage swept through me as Carson pulled up and I exited without his assistance. Pushing through the waiting crowd, I spotted them immediately in the center of the room, and they weren’t alone.
And in no universe would it have mattered.
Neither of them saw me as I approached. I gripped the fine linen that covered their table with my fists and pulled the entirety off it off as they stood crippled with shock and covered in their feast.
“Goddamn fucking bitch! Do I have your attention!” She looked around the table with pleading eyes, paling with my every word. “Tell them what you’ve done, Eileen! Tell them what you’ve done!” She glared at me over the table as I rounded it to get closer.
“Nina,” she hissed over the commotion, “I’m quite sure I have no idea what—”
“She proved her love today for you, Devin,” I raged, not looking his way, my eyes zeroing in on his wife as I inched closer to her. “If you ever come near me or my family again, I won’t have to make it look like an accident! I’ll do my own dirty work.”
Devin stood, mouth gaping, as I let out my fury without worrying about the consequences. Maybe I’d played right into her hands with my public outburst. Then again, she’d expected me maimed or dead. Picturing my brother in that hospital bed caused me to take another step around the table. Devin walked toward me, clearly confused.
“Your wife put a fucking hit on me, Devin! Who the fuck actually does that? But just like everything else in her life, including her marriage, she failed.” Eileen looked around the room terrified as several of the staff came toward me to halt my scene.
