She's talking to me. I push through my memories for any familiarities in the voice but there's nothing. She must have seen my picture in the newspaper or online after the accident. I've learned, since that night, that some people are morbidly curious about those who are struck by bad luck.
Since I'm intent on getting into Cleo's room without this woman in tow, I need to ditch her now. I turn quickly and the moment I do I'm struck by how attractive she is. She's tall, dark haired and even though her face is bare from make-up and her eyes rimmed with glasses, her natural beauty is still there.
"I'm Bridget." I reach out my free hand towards her.
"I know." She scoops my palm into her right hand, before covering it with the left. "I'm Maisy Trimble."
Chapter 19
"This is Cleo." The frame balances on her knees as she runs her hand over the glass. "You drew this?"
I nod. Since we'd exchanged pleasantries outside of Cleo's hospital room, Maisy had asked me to join her in the family lounge. It's a quiet space, tucked into a corner beyond the patients' rooms. Her sister had fallen asleep, she told me. It wasn't a good time to visit.
"I saw her and her husband at the museum one day," I offer as I reach to touch the edge of the frame. "I didn't know who she was then."
"Was this before you met Dane?"
She says his name with such effortless ease that it catches me off guard. There's no anger or resentment woven into the question.
"It was before then," I answer quietly. "I didn't know who she was until a few days ago."
"I wasn't talking to her then." Her hand skirts across the glass. "She's beaming in this. Did she know that you drew this?"
"Yes." I work to contain my emotions. "She called me over and we talked."
Her lips curve into a bright smile as she looks up and at me. "What did you talk about?"
I pull back slightly, wanting to gain some distance. I'm still emotionally stuck back in the corridor when I realized who she was. I've been staring at her since we sat down. She looks softer in person than she does in the online profile picture Dane showed me.
"She talked about getting married, and going on a honeymoon."
She studies me. "It's ironic, isn't it?"
Lifting my head I look across the empty room. "What's ironic?"
"That we're sitting here together."
It's not so much ironic as it's wildly uncomfortable. She may not have come right out and told me directly that she knows I'm dating her ex-boyfriend, but the knowledge of it is there. I have no idea who told her. It may have been Dane. Perhaps it was his mother or his brother. It doesn't matter at this point. What does matter is that I'm sitting next to a woman that Dane loved enough to live with. There has to be something about her that struck a deep chord within him.
"The world is a small place." I reach for the edge of the portrait. "It was inevitable that we'd meet at some point."
"Inevitable?" She glides the frame back into my lap. "Why would you say that?"
"We both loved the same man," I say it quietly. "You loved him. I love him now."
The silence that fills the room is finally broken by the sound of a man's voice from the corridor. "Bridget, I need you. Come with me, now."
***
I've never sat in a chapel in a hospital before. It's a place that I've always felt was reserved for those who lost a loved one or those who craved the comfort that they found in whispering their prayers of hoped healing to a spirit they believed in.
I'm sitting next to Dane now and as he crushes my fingers within his clasped palm, I feel the weight of a loss on his shoulders. He hasn't told me what brought us here. We didn't talk as he guided me down the corridor with his hand around my waist.
I'd left the portrait of Cleo with Maisy. Her presence outside the door of her sister's room made it clear that whatever strife may have pulled them apart was gone now. Maisy had been there for hours. I could see it in her face and by the wrinkled clothing on her back. She had come there for her sister and when I walked away, I knew that if Cleo had found it in her heart to forgive Maisy, forgiveness for Dane must be there too.
"What happened?" I pause. "Do you want to talk about it or do you just want to sit?"
He lowers his head just enough that his lips are out of my view. "People think I'm selfish."
They're not the words that any woman wants to hear when she just met the ex-girlfriend of the man she adores. I didn't consider the fact that Dane may have spent the past few hours in this hospital, engaged in a conversation with Maisy.
Maybe she stumbled on me first as she headed back to her sister's room and Dane was close behind. Perhaps that's why he pulled me from that room so he could break my heart here, where people come to seek solace in their grief.
"You're not selfish." I try to derail his train of thought. I know it's foolish and only a temporary reprieve from whatever he's about to tell me but I don't want this to end. I love him and if he walks away from me before I've had a chance to tell him, I will regret it until I take my last breath.
He swallows hard. "Maisy's mother is ill. That's why my mom is moving here temporarily."
He can't leave me because the mother of his ex has gotten sick. That's a situation that's not his to handle anymore. "I'm sorry to hear that."
"They got close after Maisy and I introduced them to each other." He taps his foot against the grey tiled floor. "They email each other a lot and they skype. My mom loves her mom."
It's another thread that weaves his life back into Maisy's. "Did Maisy tell you about her mom?"
"We had coffee earlier." He doesn’t look in my direction at all. "I came here to see Cleo and after we talked, Maisy showed up."
I was too late. I'd taken too long to get here and because of that, Maisy had cast her net out and captured him again with the bait of her mother's sickness. It's a horrible way to think and I feel instant guilt for it, but I'm sensing him pulling away and since he's the only man I've ever loved, I'm going to fight for him, even if right now that seems futile.
"My mom has been coming to the hospital to see Rhona. That's Maisy's mom."
"Why didn't your mom tell you she was sick?" Maybe it's an insensitive question but it's a valid one. He's told me repeatedly that his mother feels a special kinship to Maisy so it only stands to reason that she'd feel the need to share Rhona's illness with Dane since he was once part of her family.
"My mother told me." He pats the front of his shirt where his phone is tucked into the pocket. "She called me a few weeks ago to tell me and I told her it was Maisy's problem."
It is her problem. That may be the crass approach to take but no one can expect him to drop everything in his life to cradle his ex-girlfriend because she's facing a crisis. "Your mom is helping. Maisy seems strong. I'm sure they can handle it."
"I haven't been there for my mother." His hand slips from mine and I feel lost instantly. "I've pushed everyone aside to take care of myself. That's not who I am, Bridget. It's not who I want to be."