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“I told you that you can visit him, not get him riled up!” she snaps as she rushes to Ryan’s side and checks the monitor. “Visitation is over, leave!”
“But-”
“Leave!” she says sternly.
Hudson and I leave Manhattan Hospital, but I can’t help but keep on wondering what it is that Ryan wanted to tell me. It seems urgent and my gut is now crammed with dread.
The drive to my apartment is filled with awkward silence and when we
finally, reach the building, I glance at Hudson. It’s hard for me to decipher what mood he’s in when he’s sitting so still with a blank face.
“I had to go and see him,” I eventually say, breaking the ice between us.
“Why are you telling me? I really don’t care,” he says.
“I didn’t ask you to care, I’m just telling you because you seem bothered,” I tell him.
“Why would I be bothered? You don’t need to give me any justification for the things you do, Parker. I don’t give a fuck if you want to run to your ex-boyfriend’s side when he calls.” His voice is bitter.
My eyes flicker to his fist on the steering wheel as it tightens. “I’m not running to anyone! Are you seriously fighting with me for visiting someone that’s barely clinging to life!”
“If that’s what you call fighting.” He smirks.
“You’re a real dick,” I tell him. “And extremely childish.”
“Good night, Parker.”
I get out of the car and slam the door shut in his face, before stalking inside the building with hot tears streaming down my face.
He can fuck himself for all I care,I think as I get into the elevator and punch the button for the third floor.
Everything is quiet when I reach our floor. Shoving my spare key into our apartment keyhole and when I finally get inside, I find everything in darkness.
I close the door and press my back against it, wiping away the tears running down my lip.
“Lex?” I call out.
There’s nothing but silence. She is probably out. Kicking my shoes off, I go into the kitchen and place my phone on granite Island.
Digging around in the fridge I find some cheese slices and lettuce, so I decide to make a quick sandwich.
Considering that I never actually ate anything when Hudson’s dad went off on me like an asshole.
I pile cheese and lettuce along with tomato that I thinly slice in between two slices of bread.
And then I head back to the fridge and grab a can of coke before heading into the living room.
Plopping down on the couch, I take a huge bite of my sandwich and switch on Netflix. Scrolling through the movies, I settle on Fear Street: 1994.
Fuck Hudson.I didn’t need any selfish, ignorant bastard in my life.
I finish my sandwich and pull the warm black knitted blanket that’s draped on the couch over me as I settle deeper into the cushions and watch the movie.
But it isn’t long before sleep pulls at my eyes and I fall into a dark endless slumber of nothingness.
37
The Diary
