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JULIET
The next timeI wake up, everything is different.
Lights dance beyond my closed eyelids. Machines beep and whir. The acrid smell of disinfectant is strong in my nostrils.
The pain is gone. I feel like I’ve been asleep for a thousand years. I’m so thirsty, and there’s this bitter, metallic taste in my mouth. “Water,” I manage to say.
“No problem, honey,” a voice beside the bed says.
Somebody presses a button and I feel the head of the bed slowly start to rise. A straw is placed at my lips. I take a long sip. Better.
Then I try to open my eyes. Through the haze, I see the typical things—stark white hospital room, lots of machines, IV drip. The nurse standing next to me is wearing a pink cardigan and a nameplate that says BRENDA.
I scan the bed, wincing at the memory of the pain. Amazingly, I’m not in a full body cast. I don’t see any injuries at all. It might be the medicine, but I feel pretty good. “What happened?” I manage to ask, my voice still hoarse from the tube that’s been down my throat.
Brenda says, “You’ve been in a car accident. Don’t you remember?”
“A little bit.” I nod, and that’s when I feel a bit of pain in my neck. Whiplash, probably. “Am I okay?”
She smiles. “You’re lucky. You had a bit of a concussion from that bump on your head. A few bangs and bruises. But that’s all.”
That’s not all, though.
Caleb. I look around, but he’s not here. In my delirium, I thought I saw him.
“Has anyone…”
I stop myself. I don’t want to know. It must’ve been a dream. An image from the last time I saw him is cemented in my head. He looked furious, so unmoved by my profession of love. Like he never wanted to see me again.
But Brenda understands the question I didn’t finish. “Has anyone been to see you? Oh, sure.”
For a second, I perk up. “He has?”
She frowns. “He? No… A young woman, actually. She’s out in the waiting room. I can tell her to come in, if you like?”
“Oh.” My spirits plummet, but I force a smile. “Great. Yes. Thanks.”
She leaves, and I pull myself into a seating position, getting my bearings again.
Brenda’s right: I am lucky. I was terrified I’d suffered lasting damage from the crash, but as I gingerly flex my limbs, all I feel is soreness and some cuts. My mind is settling back to normal, too: no more of those fearful flashes, the disjointed sensation. Now, I can track my own steady breathing, and form a coherent thought.
“Juliet!” My coworker Mara sweeps in, carrying bags and balloons. She rushes to me, sitting on the edge of my bed. “Girl! We’ve all be so worried about you. Are you all right? Anything hurt?”
“No, I’m fine,” I reassure her. “They pumped me full of medication. The good stuff. How long have I been out?”
“A day. You missed work, and when we found out, I came right over.” She motions to the balloons. “That’s a gift from the crew. We all chipped in.”
“Thanks… Has…” I gnaw on my lip. How do I ask about Caleb when I’m not really sure I want to know? “Are they upset that I’m not there?”
Of course, Mara sees right through that. “You mean, is Caleb upset that you’re not there?”
I nod.
She shrugs. “Got me. He wasn’t in today, I assumed he was with you…” She pauses. “Wait, he wasn’t? What happened? I thought the two of you were back together.”
I shake my head slowly. I don’t want to go into the confrontation that sent me storming out of Caleb’s penthouse, late last night. I don’t want to relive any of it, especially that horrible accident. I doubt I’ll want to drive a car again, after…
Suddenly, it comes to me. The sound of twisting metal, tires squealing, and… That car. Hitting me. Trying to run me off the road.
