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I chat with my mom for a few more minutes, hating lying to her the whole time. I end up falling asleep on the couch and wake up stiff. A hot shower helps loosen my muscles, then I’m off to work again. We’re busy with surgeries and two walk-in emergencies Wednesday, and the day actually goes by pretty fast, thankfully. I’m limited in what I can do now, which often leads to boredom, and boredom leads to my mind wondering.
I take the dogs to the dog park after work, leaving them there while I go grocery shopping. I keep myself busy and distracted enough that I don’t feel like I’m dying from a broken heart.
I go to bed early, hoping I can sleep away some of the pain, but I’m woken by my phone ringing at eleven PM.
It’s Colin.
What the fuck? He rarely calls, let alone this late. My hand shakes when I pick up the phone, scared something happened to my family.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Lauren. Are you at home?”
“Yes, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he says and hesitates.
“Then why did you call and wake me up.”
He inhales but doesn’t speak.
“Colin!” I exclaim. If nothing is wrong, then I’m pissed for being woken up. “Are you drunk dialing me or something?”
“I wish. Noah got in an accident.”
It feels like I’ve been dunked in ice water. “Is he okay?”
“Yeah. He’s pretty banged up and needed a few stitches, but he’ll be fine. I just took him home. He said you guys got in a fight and he didn’t think you’d come get him, but I know you. You could hate the guy and you’d still go, and you’d probably spend the night just to make sure he’s okay. That’s all he would say. What the hell did he do?”
Tears run down my cheeks. I would go get him. I would stay and make sure he wasn’t in pain, make sure he knew how to clean and care for whatever injuries he had.
“He’s just not ready to be a dad.” I take in a shaky breath. “Are you still with him?”
“Yeah. I’m about ready to leave. He got a shot of morphine and is passed out.”
“Stay there. I’m coming over.” I don’t have to think about it. Noah is hurt. I’m going to him.
“Okay. Drive safe.”
“I always do.”
I hang up, and gather up everything I need in a mad run. I forget dog food, and run my pregnant ass back into the house, spilling kibble all over the floor in my haste. Then I’m speeding through the dark to get to Noah.
The drive takes forever. I don’t even turn on the radio. Finally I pull into the parking lot, grab my bag and the dogs, and rush inside, texting Colin that I’m here to buzz me in.
“You brought the dogs?” my brother asks as soon as we bustle through the door.
“I’m leaving for work at seven. I kinda had to. Plus Noah likes them.” And now my heart is breaking all over again. Tears fill my eyes and I don’t want to cry in front of Colin. He’ll hate Noah for hurting me. Colin crouches down to greet the dogs while I run (okay…waddle at this point) through the apartment and into Noah’s room.
It’s dark, and the first thing I see is rumpled sheets. I’m hit with the memory of the first time we made love. I have to bite my lip to keep from breaking down.
“Noah?” I whisper, voice tight. “Are you awake?”
I dig my phone out of my coat pocket and use it as a flashlight. He’s lying on his back, and shadows merge with bruises on his face. His shirt is off, and a blanket is pulled up to his chest. His left arm is bent, resting on his stomach. It’s wrapped in gauze.
As a vet tech, I see a lot of nasty things. Infected wounds, horrible injuries…it doesn’t faze me. But seeing Noah like this makes my stomach hurt. Tears run down my cheeks. I wipe them away and gently kneel on the bed, bending over to kiss Noah. The second my lips touch his, my heart breaks into a million pieces.
This is our last kiss.
