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“You made me believe,” I say, tears stinging my eyes. My body swirls with confusion, anger, embarrassment. “You made me believe, Eddie. You made me believe that…” I stop before I say the words.That I could be loved.I’m still in shock at the internal revelation. The pain in my heart blooms across my chest and almost feels debilitating. I tried to be strong, but now I feel weak. Pathetic.
“Baby, I believe. I believe we have something. I believe we both feel this connection we have, and I am sorry for lying. I am sorry for not telling you sooner,” he says, his tone growing more desperate, gripping my hand like he is going to lose me. And he is. I lift my watery eyes and look up at him. His breath in is sharp, sudden.
“So am I. We both lied. Who does that with someone who is special? We are just not meant to be, Eddie,” I say, pulling my hand from his and turning to walk out the door.
As I step out into the cool evening air, I pull my backpack a little tighter over my shoulder and keep my head down as I protect myself from anyone approaching me.
Back into the darkness, where I belong.
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE - EDDIE
Isit in the quiet of my mother’s room, a break from the ICU ward where she has been. The only sound is her heart monitor beeping as she sleeps. It has been a few days since she was brought in and my life exploded. I haven’t really slept, not really eating much. I've been sitting at my mother's bedside each day, whether it is from the guilt for not picking up on her symptoms or the fact that I want to try to see Pinkie, I’m not sure.
Probably both.
“How is she?” Harrison asks quietly, opening the door. He comes once a day, playing the role of diligent son. Governor carrying the weight of a family health crisis. Tennyson and Ben call but have only been in the day she was admitted.
“She’s the same. Resting. Showing small signs of improvement. Dr. Wilson has indicated she isn’t entirely out of the woods yet, though.” Dr Wilson offered the news to Mom and me this morning. His brow furrowed, doing nothing to make either of us feel better about the situation.
“Has she said much?” Harrison asks, coming to stand next to me, the two of us looking down at her resting frame.
“Not really,” I murmur.
“Stop talking about me like I am going to die. For goodness’ sake, it will take more than a blocked artery to keep me down.” The sound of her voice startles us both. She has been so quiet, it is like she is rising from the dead. Harrison and I look at each other, questions in our eyes. It is clear she has been awake this entire time. Probably listening in to all kinds of quiet conversations that have been happening at her bedside.
“How are you feeling?” Harrison asks her, his stance firm. It’s not like we don’t care, but there isn’t the loving hand-holding atmosphere in here. We check on her, ensure she is comfortable, and leave the rest to the professionals. I see her eyes flick to me, and she looks at me suspiciously as I sit slumped on the chair.
I feel half the man I was a week ago. That’s how long it has been since I heardhervoice. I text her every day with no reply. I call her every day, but she doesn’t answer. I get coffee delivered to her every morning, that I am pretty sure she doesn’t drink. Tony is at the building every morning, and here at the hospital every night, but she never gets in the car. So instead, he follows her home slowly, like a stalker, but ensuring her safety. She is ignoring Brian, not even offering him a smile. And here at the hospital, she walks in the other direction as soon as she sees me.
“For God’s sake, get that sad look off your face. I will be fine. Stop being so worried about me,” my mother says groggily from where she lies in the bed. I sigh. I should be worried about her. She had a stent put in when she first arrived and seemed to be okay for a few days, but then she had to be rushed to the operating room again for another stent. Her arteries are apparently not very healthy. Probably because she gets drunk every day instead of playing tennis.
“How are you feeling?” I repeat Harrison’s question to her as the door to her room opens. I look up and see Pinkie entering, and a rush of hope fills my chest. As she checks my mother’s chart, her eyes flick around the room, taking in all the flowers. It looks and smells like a fucking florist. Every flat surface is covered. Every day more bouquets come, but my mother won’t let anyone touch them. She doesn’t want any of them moved. My brothers and I know it is because she wants to show everyone who comes to visit exactly how loved and adored she is. I watch Pinkie as she writes a few notes on the clipboard, glancing at the monitors and scribbling some more.
“Hey…” I say quietly, not bothering to listen to my mother’s answer, instead fully focused on her nurse instead.
“How are you feeling, Mrs. Rothschild?” Katie asks my mother, completely disregarding me. My mom is on heavy medication, but I see her eyes move from Katie to me and back again, and it’s more than obvious before she even opens her mouth that she now realizes something is going on.
“Her? This is who you chose?” Mom barks at me, and Katie stills. Without a word, my girl stares at me, her eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. Harrison watches on as I stand, walking toward Katie, the two of us wanting to take control of the situation.
“Yes, Mom, this is Katie,” I say, pushing my shoulders back. “My girlfriend,” I add with full confidence. I need to show Katie the real me, and she is about to get it. My mother and all.
“Do you want me to die, Edward? Because I will have another heart attack if you are serious!” Her voice rises, and I cringe. Not words I really wanted my mother to say to my girlfriend, but this is my life. This is the real deal.
“Mrs. Rothschild, I need you to stay calm,” Katie says, remaining professional as she stalks to Mom’s heart monitor and looks at her spiking heart rate.
“A nurse? Someone who gives sponge baths and empties bedpans! Edward Rothschild, you will not do this to me!”
“Mother, calm down.” Harrison’s voice filters into the conversation as he steps forward, eyeing our mother suspiciously.
“Mrs. Rothschild, I really need you to calm down for me and take some deep breaths,” Katie says. The way she’s acting, you’d never know she was being insulted.
“Calm down?Calm down?Seriously, how much money do you want? You have my son wrapped around your little finger. Every time he is here, he looks at you. Every time he is here, I see him waiting for you, yearning for you. He is like a lost puppy waiting for his owner to return. I don’t know what kind of magical vagina you have, but you will not get a cent. Do you hear me?!” My mother is yelling at his point, so much so, Shelley rushes into the room, and I run my hands through my hair, pulling it at the ends as Harrison walks over to me, giving my shoulder a squeeze in support.
Now Katie sees all of me.
“Nurse Katie, you are needed in room 423. I will take over here,” Shelley says, and Katie steps back. I see her hands shaking, and she doesn't look at me as she stalks out the door. Harrison looks concerned, and I don’t hesitate to follow her, my steps quick, the energy in my body electric.
“Edward! Edward!” I hear my mother shriek before Shelley tells her to calm down again, their voices becoming mere murmurs once the door closes behind me. I see Katie up ahead, stalking down the hallway, so I stride to catch her. When she ducks into a room, I follow right behind her.
