He sets a weird-looking lacquered box on the meal tray in front of me. "That isn't mine," I say.
Adam gestured to it. "Sure it is. It's your prize, Sir William. They got Doug to cough it up."
I picture Doug coughing and things coming up--and gross as that image is in my mind, I can't see him coughing a box out of his mouth.
I give Adam a look and he laughs. "It's the tiara. The council required Doug to produce it, according to the terms previously agreed upon. Once he did, they voted to exile him on the grounds of his cowardly attack on you. You can also choose to press assault charges on him."
I look at my phone again. "The only thing I want to do right now is talk to Jenna." I start to get up from the gurney, but Mia stands in front of me, placing a hand on my shoulder.
"No, you don't, buster. You can't get up right now. The doctor hasn't cleared you. In fact, I'm guessing that they're going to admit you for the night."
I push her hand off my shoulder and stand. "No, they fucking are not," I say.
But Adam's there and he pushes me back down on the gurney. "Down, boy," he says. "And be nice to Mia, please. She took good care of you while you were knocked out."
I mumble my thanks and move to stand up again. "I'll just step out to call--"
At that exact moment, the doctor walks in to check for a head injury. I have to do lame things like squeeze his finger, then follow his finger with my eyes as he waves it in front of me. After that, he looks into my eyes with a small flashlight, which I loathe.
"I am not staying here," I say before he can speak. He's inputting things into a tablet--my chart.
"We need to run an MRI and ideally keep you for observation. We'll have this discussion after I have that MRI in my hand. How's that?"
"I need to make a very important phone call!" I say, attempting to get up.
"Mr. Drake, you can't get up and walk around. You're a patient here until you're released."
"Then I'm releasing myself. I'll just--"
Adam's at my side again, resting a heavy hand on my shoulder. "You're not releasing yourself. You're staying right here 'til you have your test."
I shove his hands off me. "Stop touching me, damn it! I want to know where Jenna is and why she's not here."
The doctor is looking from Adam to me and back again. Mia steps forward. "I think the sooner we can get his MRI, the better."
The doctor nods. "I'll see what I can do to bump him up in the queue." He steps out shortly after that, and I try one more time to stand up. Adam prevents it and I take a swing at him.
"Jesus, Liam, calm the fuck down!" He bats my fist away before it can connect.
"No, stop this bullshit. I need to talk to Jenna. I need to know why she's not here. She's probably very worried about me."
"She's okay." Mia steps forward. "She's, um...well, she's with Alex, who told me that Jenna was really shaken up by your injury. She may be blaming herself. I'm not sure exactly what's going on, but she insisted that Alex take her straight home instead of coming here."
Silence.
None of us say anything for a long time. "But why wouldn't she come? Why wouldn't she want to be here for me? I've been there for her...through all of this."
Mia shakes her head, and I know her well enough to know that the look on her face is her sad look. "I'm sorry, William. I just don't know what's going through her mind right now. But she's safe and she's not in any danger. I'm sure that she cares about what's going on with you and would want you to get this test."
"Fuck the test," I mutter.
"I promise we'll take you straight over to her house when we get you out of here, all right?" Adam says. I glare at him, a ball of rage starting to burn in the pit of my stomach. "You can take her the tiara..."
"Right now, I want to shove that tiara up your--"
"Boys!" Mia holds up a hand. "Adam, why don't you go grab us some food? I think William's feeling a bit hangry right now. I'll keep him company, and maybe he'll calm down."
Adam leaves, but I don't calm down. All I can think of is that Jenna is at home, going about her day, not even considering that I'd want her to be with me.
I put my face in my hands, aware that the headache is still there but dulling gradually.
"I'm sure she'd be here if she could."
That sounded familiar. I'd heard that from Dad and Britt a lot when I was growing up. Almost word for word.
And I'm reminded...reminded of those times when Mother had arranged to come get me and something would come up--sometimes days in advance, sometimes at the last minute. Our plans for dinner, or the park, or the museum...
She never came through for me. Those shifts in plans, which already made me uneasy to begin with, created a wall of frustration and anger, solid as a brick barrier. It took weeks and months and years before I got over the anger and the resentment. To this day, I'm not sure I ever really have.
Disappointment sits in my stomach like a blacksmith's anvil, weighing everything down. It makes me feel like I am the problem. I am the reason.
I am not worthy.
It's the same thing. It's always the same.
I'd foolishly hoped that this one moment in time, this victory, would make me deserving of admiration, of respect...
Of love.
Jenna told me she loved me, but she's not here by my side showing me that love when I need her most. I close my eyes, trying to imagine her standing here next to me in this cold, horrible hospital instead of Mia.
But I can't. Instead, I only burn with hurt and rage. I try to breathe through it so I can make it through these next few hours before I'm out of here.
Mia sits down and is talking, but I'm not listening. And once Adam returns, the only thing I can do is sit here and wish that Adam and Mia were Jenna instead, and that she's sitting beside me and holding my hand. But reality is a cold harsh distance from that fantasy--as cold and harsh as this hospital room, where the only thing I have to warm me is my burning anger.
Chapter 35
Jenna
It was just past lunchtime when we got home, but instead of grabbing a bite to eat, I poured a shot of tequila left over from our drinking night escapade and chased it with some juice.
"Jenna--"
I jerked my hand up to stop Alex from whatever she was about to say.
"No, Alejandra. I don't want to hear it."
I grabbed the bottle of Cuervo and took it into my bedroom. Then, divorced from all emotion--and all logical thought--I calmly started packing up my stuff.
Everything went into boxes. The two suitcases would go with me, and I'd ask Alex to store a couple of boxes at her mom's house. The rest I'd give away...to friends, to charity, whoever. As long as I could get rid of it all.
Old things just brought back old memories--and I didn't want any of those. They hurt too much. My heartbeat raced with fear and misery with each box I packed up, so I'd take another drink and continue, my hands working as if independent of my feelings.
Fate was calling. It was time to move on. But every time I had that thought, my heart hurt like it had been scraped by a piece of glass.
I heard Papa's voice in my head..."Budi hraba, kci." You must be brave...
It had been chilly that April morning as he loaded me up on the refugee truck in the outskirts of Sarajevo, along with my sister and my aunt. We'd finally had the opportunity to pass safely through the warzone to Zagreb. That day he'd pressed the tiara in my hand, assuring me it would be safe inside the beautifully lacquered case. Explaining how my grandmother had worn it on her wedding day, as her mother had before her. "You're a princess and you need to be kept safe. I'll see you soon. Obecavam." I promise.
He'd broken that promise. Mama told me he'd died in minutes, bleeding out in the gutters on a street we'd walked down nearly every day of my young life there.
Papa...I can't do this anymore. It hurts too much. Please take this pain away.
Even in my tequila stupor, everything was too tight--my cloth
es, my chest, my fists. The doorbell rang and I glanced out my bedroom window, astonished to see that it was dark. The entire day had passed me by in my heartache-induced daze.
"Hello?" I heard a familiar voice call into the apartment. Helena.
I'd used all the tissues in my room, so I bolted out the door and toward the bathroom, but she was standing in the hallway, blocking my progress.
"Oh Janjica!" she said, taking my face in her elegant, long-fingered hands. "What are we going to do with you?"
Instead of answering, I sniffed and hiccupped, my lip quivering. I thought about the tragedy that linked the two of us, and how fitting it was that she was here right now. Helena pushed the hair from my face back behind my ear. Over her shoulder, I could see Alex watching us, and I knew then that it was Alex who had called her.
"Don't be mad at Alex," Helena said, reading my mind--as usual. "She's worried about you. And so am I."
I shivered and the tears came in a rush again. Helena pulled me into a hug, and I pressed my face to her shoulder and sobbed. "I can't forget that night, Helena. I can't."
She knew what I was talking about without even having to ask. "You never will...and neither will I," she said, switching to Bosnian. "That night changed us all forever."
She gave me a little nudge toward my bedroom. As soon as we'd entered, Alex handed me a fresh box of tissues and then shut the door behind us.
Helena sank down on the bed beside me as I rocked back and forth, fisting my hands. She gave the bare room a onceover, her eyes landing on the boxes lining the wall. In mere hours, my life had been condensed into those boxes and I was ready to move on.
"Tell me what happened..."
I inhaled a shuddery breath and let it go. "There's a boy...and..." My voice trembled, and I glanced up at her before quickly looking away. "He's a man, actually, but..."
Helena placed an arm around my shoulders, watching my face carefully. "Go on, Janja. Tell me about him."
My cheeks heated and I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye, feeling oddly guilty. Like I was cheating on her...and Brock.
"Last night I, uh...I told him I loved him."
She nodded. "And it's the truth? Do you love him?"
That shard of glass scraped over my heart again and the air hissed from my lungs. I doubled over. "Yes. I love him. I love him so much. So much it hurts. Oh God, Helena. I'm sorry."
Her arm tightened, pulling me back to a sitting position. "Love is nothing to apologize for. And we are not meant to love only one person in our lives. You loved Braco. And now you love this man, too. That's not a betrayal."
My pitiful sobs started up again, drowning out her noble speech. "He'll die, Helena. He'll die, just like the others. Like Papa. Like Brock."
She inhaled sharply and reached to push my hair back from my face. "Stop this. Right now. You have the right to love a man, and you have the right to be loved. Stop hurting yourself because you lived and Braco didn't."
"How can you be so nice to me? I didn't drive him home that night--"
"We're not going through this again, Jenna," she said, switching to English with a stern tone. "You spent two years utterly depressed, crippled by your guilt. I don't blame you, because it was not your fault. It happened. You went home early. He got another ride..."
Her voice faded out in a sob. That sob stabbed me to the core. I squeezed my eyes shut and buried my face in my hands, but Helena pulled them away just as quickly.
"Stop hiding. Stop running away. Listen to me!" She squeezed my hands. "You are like my own daughter. You know that. I tell you all the time. The only thing worse than losing Braco would be to lose you, too."
"But--"
"No but. You get up. You wash your face and you go to this man. You tell him how you feel, all right? You tell him you love him and want to be with him. Be brave, Janja. It takes courage to get through this life, because if you aren't brave, then life and circumstances will grind you up into dust."
Be brave, Janja.
My breath stung in my lungs and tears clogged my throat. My eyes were so impossibly sore, yet tears continued to pour out. I had no idea where they were coming from.
I shook my head. "I'm so scared."
She stroked my hair. "We all are. Every day we are here, we never know what is going to happen. But life is meant to be lived. Do you think if I had the choice that I would choose to go back in time and not have a son, just so I could avoid the pain of losing him? No. Never. I carried that baby and raised him and held him in my arms and kissed him and loved him. And I remember the wonderful boy that he was. Yes, I think about the amazing man he would have become, but I'm grateful for every day that he was on this earth. I'll never regret it. And you shouldn't, either."
I rubbed my eyes, hearing the truth in her words, and suddenly an inexplicable calm settled on my shoulders. The soreness and grief were still there, but there was comfort, too. There was love. The love I felt for Helena. The gratitude for having her in my life.
And she was right. If I had the choice, I'd go back and relive everything again. I'd be more than grateful for the time I had with Brock. The memories. My relationship with his amazing parents. All of it. No regrets.
No regrets.
Helena must have sensed the change in me because she just stroked my hair and spoke comforting words in our native language. Soon, my head was on her shoulder and she was singing an old folk song that my mama used to sing when I was little.
I was exhausted and depleted, but also fraught with worry about William. After ten minutes of silence, I slowly rose from the bed and went to my dresser to retrieve my phone.
When it bloomed to life, there was a stack of text messages and notifications of missed calls. Shit. Everyone was probably sick with worry about me while I was off having my pity party. When I should have been there for William...
Just as I was about to open my text-messaging app, the doorbell rang. I took a deep breath, and Helena rose from the bed, grabbed my hand and said, "Let's go see who it is, okay? And then after that, you'll speak to your young man. I hope I will meet him soon. In fact, I expect to meet him soon."
Nodding, I wiped my face one last time with a tissue. Helena opened the door and together we walked into my front room. There, Alex stood talking with Adam, Mia, and a somber and dazed-looking William, whose head was heavily bandaged.
Joy infused the blood pumping through every vein the minute I laid eyes on him. I couldn't suppress the goofy smile or the warm, overpowering relief I felt when I saw that he was okay.
I rushed to William, stopping myself just before taking him into my arms when I noticed him visibly stiffen. "Wil," I breathed.
His jaw tensed and he stepped away from me, then held out a familiar lacquered box. My tiara. But the expression on his face was glacial. That brought me up short, and I stared at him over the box instead of taking what he offered me. His eyes dropped to the floor.
And the tension...you couldn't have broken through it with a jackhammer. Adam and Mia shared a long look. Then she turned to William, placing a hand on his shoulder, which he promptly shrugged off. "Uh, Adam and I are going to wait for you outside by the stairwell." She threw a significant glance at Alex.
"Oh, yeah...Mia, I have to talk to you two about something. I'll go too."
The three of them filed out. Beside me, Helena put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed it before following the others, gently closing the door behind her.
The minute it closed, William spoke in a monotone even flatter than normal. "I came to deliver this to you. I won the duel and I am giving you the tiara, as promised." He thrust the box toward me again. This time, I took it from him, flipping it open to make sure the tiara was inside and then setting it aside on a nearby table.
"Thank you. I'm so--"
But he had already turned away and was heading toward the door.
"Wil, wait!" I said and grabbed hold of his arm. He jerked it away like I'd burned him.
My gut twisted in
panic. "William! Please. Please let me explain. I'm sorry."
He hesitated, then slowly turned toward me. "I waited for you. Mia texted you. I called. You didn't answer. All day I sat there worrying about you. I was in a hospital--I loathe hospitals. That's a fact you don't know because you never bothered to get to know me well enough to know that. I had to sit there and go through every stupid test without you. They had to sedate me to get me in that fucking machine to do a scan on my head."
I gasped, realizing the depth of his anger in the simple use of that curse word. I'd never heard him say it before, and it sounded more venomous coming from him.
I felt like garbage. Less than garbage. And yet all I could choke out was, "I'm so glad you're all right."
"You weren't there for me," he repeated.
"I know. I'm sorry. I was..." My voice died before I could complete the sentence. I was selfishly freaking out and thinking about myself instead of you.
"Please, William. Can we talk?"
He blinked. "We are talking."
"You're mad at me. And you have every right to be. But please, can I explain what happened? I--I freaked out when I saw you go down. There was so much blood. I thought I was going to lose you, and I started to relive losing Brock--"
He jerked away from the door and started pacing across the small living area, hands rubbing over his thighs. "You still love Brock."
"Yes, I told you that already. But I love you, too."
He paced faster as he shook his head. "But you weren't there for me."
"Wil, I screwed up. I'm sorry."
"I can't depend on you. How do I know you won't just leave?"
I swallowed. "I don't want to leave. I want to be with you."
He dragged in a ragged breath and let it go. "So last night you tell me you want to stay with me. Then we had sex. After the duel was over, you were nowhere to be seen. Was that a coincidence?"
I frowned, trying to wrap my head around what he was implying. I shook my head.
Then he stopped pacing so abruptly that it looked like the momentum might knock him right over. I'd left my door open and William was staring directly into my bedroom. At the bare walls, the stacked boxes, the open, empty dresser drawers.
I swallowed a hard lump in my throat.
"You are leaving," he said between clenched teeth, fists tightening at his sides.
If I could have sunk into the ground and melted through the floor in that minute, I would have. While he'd been in the hospital, badly injured yet still worried about me, I'd been guzzling tequila and packing everything up.