“No money. No job. No family or friends. That sounds horrid.”
“You don’t have a job now.”
“I do too. I’m the head of three fundraisers this year. One of which is being held at the old theatre down in Soho. We’ll be the first allowed in there since it closed twenty-six years ago.”
“Oh,” he said, withdrawn from this conversation already. “Sorry for assuming. I was thinking about how you would support yourself if your parents didn’t.”
Her eyes flashed at him. “Taylor, we both come from money. Can you stop acting like we’re so different? You and I are alike in so many ways. A perfect match.” She perked up. “Hey! There’s one thing I would like a clean slate on.”
Taylor actually perked up in response. Maybe there was hope yet. Maybe her soul ran deeper than a puddle after a light rain.
She said, “If I hadn’t had my dalliance, we would be married right now and I’d have my first little one on the way.” She rubbed her stomach.
Besides questioning if the baby would even be his, all he heard was “I. I. I.” Not we. I. She will never change. It will always be about her.
How did he end up here, back with her? They were never good together. It was an illusion that everyone had convinced him of. He was sold a bill of goods that was past its prime. He thought if Jude was gone for good that he could return to his old life like she hadn’t rearranged all the pieces. The puzzle that was his life was missing corner pieces and important ones that made up his core. How could he foolishly think dating Katherine would fit… could fill in those gaps?
He had tried. But after three dates with her, the sight and sound of her made him cringe and his heart clenched, so he turned away from her. He turned away from the window he wanted to look out. And he turned away from the thought of Jude out there in that city somewhere. “I’m going to rest now.”
She stood up. “I should go. The visiting hours are ending soon and I feel dirty being around so many sick people. I want a hot bath and a good night’s sleep. I’ll be back in the morning. I’ll bring you fresh coffee.” She walked to his bedside and leaned in to kiss his cheek. With a pat to his shoulder, she added, “I’ll see you in the morning.” She walked toward the door and he watched her go.
Thankful for the peace, he began to roll over and try for sleep, but an unwanted visitor walked in. Taylor took one look and said, “Go away, Rufus. I’m not in the mood to fight with you.”
Rufus made himself more comfortable in the chair by the window, a regular hotspot tonight. Taylor decided he’d ask the nurse to remove the chair when Rufus leaves.
Rufus looked at Taylor, but his normal agitated expression wasn’t there. He looked—humbled, as if that was even possible. “I came to apologize.”
Now this Taylor wanted to hear and lay on his back to watch and listen. “Go on.”
“I’ve been a real asshole to you. You know why, jealousy, whatever the fuck with that, but that doesn’t make it right. I’m sorry.”
“How’d you know I was here?”
“Some friends of mine were at the fundraiser and you know how gossip gets around.”
“So you’re apologizing because you think I might die?”
“Something like that, but I owed you one or fifty, anyway. Just thought it was a good time to say it.”
“To clear your conscience?”
“Hey, Taylor,” Rufus sounded serious, “this is hard for me. I don’t apologize. Ever. But I am to you.”
“Again, this is hard for you? It’s hard for me, Rufus. I understand you feel entitled to people and things, but you aren’t entitled to be a martyr in this situation. I get to own the whole I’m a victim thing because when you go home tonight, I’ll be stuck in this hospital bed for who knows how long. So as much as I can appreciate you apologizing for years of bullshit, don’t do it to make yourself feel better. That’s not a real apology. Say it because you mean it. And say it to make things right.”
Rufus stood, his gaze out the window. Taylor hoped Rufus was absorbing what he just said. When Rufus turned back to him, he said, “I’m sorry, Taylor. I really am. You’ve lost a lot.” Taylor realized Rufus had heard about Jude. “And have more on the line to lose. So I’m genuinely sorry for everything I’ve done to you that made your life more difficult.”
Now that, Taylor could appreciate. “Thank you.” It didn’t mean he wanted to grab a beer with him anytime soon, but the effort he made was nice.
Rufus turned to leave and said, “Take care, man. I wish you the best.”
“Thanks.” He said the word, but he wanted to punch Rufus for the bastard he was. What was the point? The. Ass.
As soon as he left, he rolled completely over being careful not to agitate the IV. The hospital became quieter over the next few hours as all the visitors left and the night staff started their shifts.
His parents’ brief visit earlier in the night still irked him. He wished he could start over with a clean slate and go far away from here. His values weren’t aligned with the people who were aligned with him. When he thought about it, they never had been. Glancing down at his IV, he had images of escaping in the night, going to his place, packing a suitcase, and disappearing. He could start over. The money was nice, very nice, but he could make a living. He could make a life.
But that damned IV was a strong reminder that he didn’t have the luxury of living a life on the run, a life without healthcare, or his trust fund. His body had betrayed him just like Jude.
He couldn’t care about Jude anymore. Or where she was. What she was doing. She had betrayed their love by leaving him to drown in it. She had betrayed their future by abandoning it. She had betrayed him, his hope finally faded. Like the windows in the buildings across the way, his bright light for a life went out and he closed his eyes and went to sleep.
A nurse with gray hair pulled back in a bun tiptoed into the room. He opened his eyes and saw her checking the IV. “What time is it?” he asked, his voice still rough with sleep.
“Sorry. Did I wake you?”
Her voice was kind enough for him to want to reassure her. “It’s okay.”
“It’s just after three in the morning. How are you feeling?” she whispered. Touching his head, she smiled at him. “I think you’ll be released tomorrow if you’re up for it.”
“I’m up for it now.” Taylor sat up.
“Slow down.” She angled the bed up to support his back. “You’re here for the night, so settle back in. I brought a fresh pitcher of water a little while ago.” She pulled the tray closer. The coffee Katherine had brought him was gone. “Can I get you anything? Are you comfortable?”
“I’m fine,” he said, returning her kind smile. “Do you know anything about my results?”
“You’re not worse. That’s good news. The doctor will be here in the morning to go over everything with you.” She leaned against his bed and said, “You know, my mother has Parkinson’s disease. There are many reasons to what causes severe symptoms, but with her, stress brings it on. Have you been stressed?”
He didn’t lie. “I have.” Something about her compassionate eyes made him confess, “I lost the love of my life. And even though my life may not be long compared to some, she made me believe we would be together forever.”
He gulped. Suddenly feeling he shouldn’t have admitted that to himself, much less to a stranger. He poured himself a cup of water and avoided the sadness he could see in her eyes.
When a few awkward moments passed, she covered his forearm with her hand, and said, “I don’t think you’ve lost her. I saw her in here earlier. It’s obvious she still cares about you, and deeply.”