Reaching Hearts - Faleena Hopkins Page 0,18
don’t understand why you’re in a hospital gown. You were fine yesterday.”
Maria crosses to me and looks sideways at Rebecca before she reaches for my arm, inspecting the needle that has dislodged itself and is hanging precariously by a thin shard of tape.
“I was admitted last night because I fainted and was dehydrated from stress.”
Rebecca turns on her heel and walks out.
“Shit,” Brendan mutters again.
Maria looks over to the door. “I take it she’s not your sister.” She looks back and forth between us. “We’ve got to get you back to your room now. I can get in trouble for this. And I need to get a new needle for this.”
“Right. Okay.” I throw a glance to Brendan. “You okay? Do you want to call her and explain?”
He shakes his head, irritated. “I don’t have my phone.”
Remembering, I say, “Oh! I almost forgot I found your jacket at the bar.”
He sits up straighter. “Do you have it with you?”
Biting my lip, I shake my head. “I don’t. One of my employees might have it? I don’t know. I’m sorry.”
He slouches against the bed. “Great.” Then to himself he adds more quietly, “Hopefully she’ll come back.”
“We really have to go,” Maria says, holding the door open.
“Okay,” I look over to him, a knot twisting in my stomach.
His eyes close and he says nothing. If she’s not his girlfriend, and he’s reacting this way, who is she to him? Wait, is she like I am to him? Am I like her? I turn and avoid Maria’s eyes as I pass through the door.
Maria looks down as the door shuts behind us. “We need to get you some socks.”
Through the door, he yells, “Annie!”
My heart leaps into my throat. Stepping back in, I ask, “Yes?”
He’s frustrated. “I can’t even go chase you down if I want to. This is ridiculous.” There’s a war going on inside of him and it’s all playing out through his eyes. He’s struggling to say more, so I wait, holding the door open. “I just want to say, I’m glad you’re okay.
It’s so plain that wasn’t what he was going to say. Will I ever know? “I’m glad you are, too.”
He nods. He’s always got so much going on behind those eyes of his. I know that inside his mind are things he doesn’t share with anyone. Probably not even Mark. He has a loneliness that lives in his eyes, an underlying sadness. As we look at each other, I know he’s not going to say more now, so I tap the door and turn to leave.
“Come back and see me when you can,” he calls out.
I look over, surprised. “Okay.” He doesn’t smile, so I lay my head on the edge of the open door and look at him. “I’m sorry we were interrupted. I was having fun.”
A smile tugs at one corner of his mouth. “Yeah, I was too.”
“Sucks.”
“It does,” he chuckles, brightening despite everything.
I tap the door again and turn and leave with Maria and when we’ve walked far enough away, she throws me a sideways glance. “He likes you.”
I’m staring ahead, my steps cold on the floor and my arm aching. “God, I hope so.” We don’t say anything else because my mind is with a woman who got to him before I did, who loves him, too, and who might just be more of a problem than I think. Lord knows I don’t want to have to fight for him, but I fucking will if I have to.
Chapter Thirteen
Rebecca
Hands: twitching for a cigarette and I’ve never smoked a day in my life.
From where I sit in my S.U.V., I watch the hospital. My eyes are locked on the third floor. Is she still in there with him? I leave for a few fucking minutes to get something to eat and boom, there’s that Annie girl on his lap, fucking him! I have always been afraid of the day when I heard he’d found the one, but she can’t be it. Not now. Not ever. I’m not leaving without a fight.
San Francisco. Balboa Park Baseball Diamond. One year ago.
With my fingers clutching the chain-link fence, I yell, “C’mon Brendan, you can hit better than that!” Our team yells with me and Brendan’s co-workers are competitive to a fault. Our matching Victory Times Three t-shirts are a visual testament. The other team members, all hailing from another agency, have their own clothes on, not even matching with colors. No commitment to winning. That’s why they