You're to Blame(11)
I need Jacob to wake up. My guilt for causing him to storm out, whether justified or not, is unbearable. Two weeks of uncertainty is nearly a lifetime.
*****
Like the dutiful girlfriend, I walk past the nurse’s station. They wave and smile, probably thinking how wonderful I am for showing up every day. There’s the guilt again. I am half-tempted to trek my ass to the psychiatric ward and have myself committed.
A deep voice inside Jacob’s room halts my nervous habit of straightening my hair and attempting to smooth the dark circles under my eyes in case he’s awake when I walk in. The door swings open, and at the sight of Duke, I squeal loud enough to gain the attention of the nurses.
“What are you doing here?” I question, jumping back.
“Nice to see you, too, Charlotte.” His body brushes against me, and heat surges through my veins, quickening my pulse. He has a way of jumbling my brain with a single look. “I thought you were going to be cordial. You’re going to give me whiplash at this rate,” he says as he walks away.
Before he’s out of reach, my slender fingers wrap around his forearm. His skin pulses, and I drop my grip like I’ve been burnt.
“I didn’t mean to sound so rude,” I backtrack. The way he says my name is seduction wrapped in a warm blanket.
“You sure about that?” He blinks with a feigned innocence. “You’re getting awfully good at it, Charlotte.”
He’s right. Just earlier today I tried to set our ‘friendship’ straight. Now I’m questioning his motives for doing what I wanted in the first place. I don’t know what I want from anyone these days.
“I was only rude at the bar. Look what I did for you this morning.” The hem of my shirt becomes the perfect distraction. The material bunches in my grip. “I saved you from having forced conversations with the beautiful girl.”
“She wasn’t looking for a well-formed conversation from me.”
At his admission, my cheeks redden. My sudden discomfort earns me a smile, a gesture I’m sure has melted off a few pair of panties in his lifetime.
Not mine though. Nope. Mine are perfectly intact.
“I bet.” My eyebrows dance out of annoyance or maybe an annoyance I expect to find. I’m not sure if it’s there though. Duke is ungodly endearing, making it hard to be irritated when directly in front of him. “Now, you going to tell me why you chose today of all days to visit?
“What you said at the bar last night stuck with me, okay?” He groans, running his hands through his hair and scuffing his feet on the tiled floor. A hint of embarrassment soaks his eyes.
“For what it’s worth, again, I’m sorry about how I reacted.” I offer a ‘please forgive me’ smile which always appears to work in my favor. Duke’s grin widens, proving he’s not immune to my charm.
“Not a big deal. I’m used to people thinking the worst of me.” His attention jumps from me to the end of the hallway.
I follow his gaze to a beautiful blonde talking to a nurse whose attention is directed at the two of us. When her eyes lock on Duke, her face stretches with excitement. Her reaction grates on my nerves, and I don’t quite understand why. Her confidence slips when she spots me.
Duke notices the questions I have, and he shakes his head, slowly, side to side, begging me not to ask. It’s a warning to mind my own business.
“I better go,” he whispers. “I have some things to do. A project to work on and stuff for the fraternity.” His excuses are a blatant lie.
“Good luck with that.” I snicker, knowing he’s in for a treat when he reaches the girl. The fire in her eyes darts straight at Duke.
“I’ll see you around, Charlotte.”
There he goes again with the name.
Duke heads down the hallway. He looks over his shoulder to check if I’m still in the same spot where he left me. Once he’s in front of the blonde, his hands wrap around her arm with authority, not too hard, but strong enough to have her pull away. She glares at me as he whispers something in her ear.
I don’t bother sticking around for their lovers’ quarrel.
The sounds of Jacob’s hospital room are as familiar as my reflection in the mirror. The beep of the monitors. The whirring sound of the anti-bacterial dispenser. Even the drip of Jacob’s IV has become a source of encouragement. These sounds mean he’s still alive.
“So, still sleeping, huh?” Light floods the room as I open the curtains. “I ran into Duke in the hallway. I’m happy to see he finally made it up here.” I sit down on the edge of the hospital mattress. “I still can’t believe how rude I was to him.” I take a deep breath and settle into the chair beside his bed.
The rest of the hour, I doodle in one of the notebooks I always carry. Writing random thoughts and ideas is my own form of therapy. The habit is probably the only reason why I haven’t ended up on the sixth-floor psych ward. Nurses come and go, checking Jacob’s IV levels and vitals. Some race out when alarms ring loud through the halls. Others stick around, asking how I’m doing.
“I have to get going.” I ruffle Jacob’s hair. How familiar it feels against the tips of my fingers. “Go ahead and wake up while I’m gone. I won’t even be mad at you. Promise.”
With my crossbody slung over my chest, I step out into the hallway. In front of Jacob, I try to keep an even, playful tone. But when I’m alone, the stress of playing the part of the happy, hopeful girlfriend becomes too much. The problem settles in my shoulders, and no amount of stretching relieves the pain. My neck cracks and pops when I move my head side-to-side.