Page 17 of Whiskey Shivers

Like I said, I’d had entirely too much time here alone, on my own, to think…

When Mark did arrive, it was with flowers and one of my travel bags from home. He stepped into the room and peeked out from behind the carnations and smiled. I forced a smile to my own lips and said, “Pretty, thank you…” of the flowers, even though I couldn’t stand carnations. They reminded me of my mother’s funeral. I know that at some point I had told Mark that and it hurt my heart that he couldn’t be bothered to remember. I mean, maybe I was being too harsh, buthonestly.

“Oh, these are nice,” he said of the flowers that Hex had brought me. “They from the school?”

“Yeah,” I said. I mean, it wasn’texactlya lie, even though it certainly felt like an untruth. I don’t know what bothered me more – well, that was another lie. I knew it bothered me more not that I’d just lied by omission to my fiancé but that it didn’t bother me one bit to do it.

I pressed more of my smile out to the surface and knew it for the brittle farce that it was when he came over to lean down to kiss me.

“You look a bit better,” he said, and I tried to nod but stopped short.

“They said my incisions are healed nicely, but the collarbone is going to take a while,” I said. “I’ll need help with showering and the like for a while and I won’t be able to go back to work right away.”

“Yeah, no. I don’t think you should go back to that school at all,” he said and I rubbed my lips together.

“I-I haven’t decided on that,” I said. “I need more time with that one.”

He sat on the edge of the hospital bed by my knee and asked incredulously, “What, you aren’t seriously considering going back, are you? I mean, will they even take you?”

I frowned at that. “What? Why wouldn’t they?” I asked.

He stared at me, surprised, like a deer caught in the headlights and I stared back, waiting him out.

“Well… I mean… uh…”

“Well, you mean, uh,what, precisely?”

“Nothing, babe.”

If I could have crossed my arms, I would have.

“No, really… what did you mean?” I pried. Was I picking a fight? Maybe. But I was so screaming frustrated mad with him, with his apathy, and how he paid me no attention. With how he’d barely been here throughout this whole thing and with how he was seriously testing my last nerve with making it sound like my school was going to treat me like this was somehow my fault.

“I mean, you had sex with a student,” he said lamely, and I felt myself reel back as though I’d just been slapped.

“You don’t honestly believe that, do you?” I demanded.

He was silent, his eyes locked to mine, bouncing slightly in their sockets, entirely too wide as he searched my face. The silence just continued to stretch on and on between us.

I fought not to cry, but not because I was hurt. No, oh no, I wasangry.I was absolutely out of my mindfurious.

“No, not at all,” he said and I couldseehim recalibrating in real time. I watched his thought process scrambling to find a way to backpedal gracefully out of this.

“Then why even bring it up like that, Mark? Seriously. Why? I didn’tchooseto get attacked in a high school bathroom. I didn’t go in there to get stabbed and – and – andraped! He wasn’t even astudent!He’s some sicko, pretending to be fourteen, who hasn’t been fourteen for a very long time! Are you for fucking real right now?”

“Look, it came out wrong,” he said and he looked at his watch. I knew what was coming next – it was the same thing he always did.

“Yeah, yeah,work,” I bit out and my tone was acid.

He sighed and his face collapsed into lines like a parent trying to get a hold of their anger. I could almost watch him count in his head.

Just what exactly did he have to be upset about? Good Lord!

“Am I interrupting?” I looked sharply at the door to my room and Hex standing there, my briefcase over his shoulder, my purse in his other hand.

“Who are you?” Mark asked.

“Mr. Johnson is one of the school custodians,” I said coolly in Mark’s direction. I met Hex’s eyes and tried to convey a silent apology. His timing was awful, but that wasn’t his fault.

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