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“We should take her to the hospital,” one of my neighbors said.
“I can’t drive. I don’t think you should either, Bub. We’ve all been drinking,” the other responded.
An unfamiliar voice chimed in, “Bar policy is that we’ve got to call emergency services with any major injury. She lost consciousness and she’s bleeding so we had to call nine-one-one. They’re already on their way.”
“Fuck,” I muttered. I felt my chest constrict, my eyes growing heavy behind my lids. I squeezed them tighter, attempting to stop myself from crying and making the public spectacle of my stupidity any more embarrassing.
The sound of the sirens became blaring, and I pried open one eye to find flashing lights outside the bar window, and two EMT’s busting through the front door. Juan and Dante moved away as I was examined. Everything in my head felt clouded. My neighbors answered most of the questions regarding how I became injured, while I attempted to answer questions about how I was feeling.
My head throbbed. My stomach lurched. I felt like I needed to throw up but avoided it on pure will alone. Mostly, though, I felt like an idiot. I felt like a fucking joke. I found myself thinking back to my relationship with Jeremy. Imagining the way he would react to this situation. He probably would’ve left me here. He would’ve been so humiliated to be seen with me.
I thought of how my parents would react. What they would say. My mom would tell me I had no chance of finding a husband when I was acting like a child and dancing on tables in bars, knocking myself unconscious. My dad would tell me it was trashy and unbecoming.
Carter and Penelope wouldn’t say anything as heinous as that, but they’d probably think it. They’d be embarrassed to be seen with me. Once they find out what happened, I’m sure they’ll never offer to come with me to trivia again. Neither will Juan or Dante.
I was a liability at this point.
The EMT finished checking me out and bandaged the cut on my forehead from where I hit the light. I guess Juan had been holding a towel to my head when I came to, in an attempt to stop the bleeding. The EMT told me they needed to take me to the hospital for some additional tests since it was clear I had a concussion.
Juan and Dante offered to meet me at the hospital, since neither of them were allowed to join me in the ambulance. I told them I would be fine. That I had a family member nearby I’d call to meet me there, even though that wasn’t true. I just couldn’t look either of them in the eye. I needed to wallow in my humiliation alone.
I tried to ignore the stares of the bar patrons, or the claps and shouts a few sent my way as the EMT led me out the front door and into the back of the ambulance. Dante promised to check in on me once I got home and Juan let me know he’d texted Carter to tell my roommates what happened. I clenched my jaw at that, and then winced at the pain it caused.
“You’re crazy, Macie,” Juan laughed just as the ambulance door shut.
I held back my emotions as I rode to the hospital. As I had tests completed. As I was evaluated by the doctors. I kept my composure as the nurse told me they were waiting to receive back the results of my CT scan before discharging me. She let me know she’d give me some time to rest as she exited the room they put me in.
The moment the door clicked shut behind her, I began to cry.
Chapter 7
“Idon’tcare.Ineed you to let me in there.”
“Sir, like I said, I can’t let you in without a visitor’s pass, and you cannot receive a visitor’s pass without the patient’s permission.”
“Then get her permission.”
“She’s resting.”
My eyes fluttered open at the sound of voices outside the door. Taking a moment—likely a much longer moment than usual—to reacquaint myself with my surroundings, I blinked around the hospital room. They must’ve let me doze off while we waited for the results of my scans.
“Can you at least tell me if she’s okay? When is she being discharged?” The voice ringing outside the door was deep and rich. Invigorating and inviting. Familiar.
“I can’t tell you that.” The second voice was soft and firm.
“Fuck,” that rich voice groaned. “I really need to see her. I need to know she’s okay. What happened? How did she end up in the hospital?”
An exasperated sigh. “I cannot disclose any patient information.”
“This is fucking bullshit. I need to see her.” It sounded as if there was pacing back and forth.
“I’m going to go check on her. Once she’s awake, I’ll inform her she has a visitor, and with her permission, you’ll be able to see her then.”
“Goddammit,” that familiar voice hissed as the door to my room creaked open.
“Well, look who’s woken up,” my nurse crooned as she shut the door behind her quietly.
“She’s awake?” We both paused at that voice beyond the door. “Mace! Are you okay? Can you please tell them to fucking let me in?” The moment he said my name, my hazy mind began to clear.
