Page 65 of Falling for Nicole
We end up showering together before we make it back to the abandoned pans in the kitchen. “So what were you planning on cooking?”
“I found some eggs, and I thought I could probably manage an omelette.”
“Sounds perfect, crack on,” I say, leaning against the worktop to watch him.
“The vet said we could go for nine, so we’ll have this and then go see Bailey. I’ve already told the others you won’t be in today, they’ve got it covered.”
“Thank you.” I walk over and wrap my arms around his waist. “Thank you for last night, for coming to find me, and for not yet giving me a hard time about what happened.” Nothing has been said yet about the whole Georgia thing, but from how angry he was, I know it must still be at the forefront of his mind.
I feel him tense up the moment I bring it up. “I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you. She was just so convincing and it was like my biggest fear was playing out in front of my eyes. It’s her I don’t trust, and I should have allowed you to explain. It wasn’t fair to put my feelings about her on to you like that.”
He’s silent as he continues cooking. His lack of response puts me on edge. Is he about to revert back to how he was yesterday? Have I just reminded him how angry he was? Was last night only due to Bailey being gone and my distress?
Taking a step back, I allow him to cut the omelette in two and slide it on to a couple of plates.
“Here.” I take it from him and grab two forks from the drawer.
We eat in silence and it doesn’t do anything for my state of mind. He made me feel like everything was okay first thing this morning, but now?
“Dec, please say something.”
I watch as he drops his fork onto the plate and looks up to the ceiling. “Why did you suddenly believe I didn’t do anything? You were so set on me being guilty.”
I swallow a huge lump in my throat as I think back to how I treated him. My conversation with BJ yesterday is at the forefront of my mind but I promised him I wouldn’t say anything. Shit.
Dec continues to stare at me as I try to come up with something that doesn’t sound ridiculous.
“Just spit it out.”
“It was BJ,” falls from my lips.
“Motherfucker.”
“Don’t be mad at him. He was just trying to help.”
“I told him not to get involved.”
“Well, he did, and he showed me just how bloody wrong I was. I’m so sorry.”
I can tell that he wants to say more. He’s clearly still not happy with how I handled the situation, but when he glances over at the clock and tells me it’s time to go, I soon forget about the whole conversation in favour of worrying about the state I’m about to find my puppy in.
Thankfully Dec drives, because he takes me to a part of town I’ve not been to and a vet I didn’t know existed.
The wait in the reception is almost as painful as the hours I spent sat waiting for appointments with Mum. The rule of thumb there generally was the longer the wait, the worse the news was. We’d sit there side by side in what could only be described as a corridor, staring at the fliers and leaflets pinned to the wall ahead for different cancer charities and phone numbers for how to deal with everything. I’m pretty sure the times spent sat in those chairs were the most depressing of my life. I’d take sitting next to her hospital bed any day over the anxious wait over the bad news that was sure to come our way.
My knee bounces in anticipation so much that Dec eventually places his hand on it to stop me.
“It’ll be okay. They didn’t sound overly concerned on the phone last night.”
“He was hit by a car, how can it be anything but bad?” I ask, the sick feeling increasing with every word that comes out of my mouth.
When I look down at the ground once again, a tiny white feather comes to rest by my foot. Bending down to pick it up, I rub its soft down between my fingers. A little bolt of positivity washes through me that Dec’s right, and Bailey’s going to be okay. I feel Dec’s eyes on me, but I don’t look over. I just keep repeating in my head that he’s fine.
“Here for Bailey?” a young woman in scrubs calls, and I lunge towards her in my eagerness to find out what’s going on. “This way.” Her calming voice actually breaks through my anxiety and I find myself breathing slightly slower as I follow her. It helps that Dec’s hand is in mine. I’m sure I’m squeezing the life out of it, but he hasn’t yet complained.
My heart drops the second I walk into an empty room. My rational side knows she wouldn’t have left him in here alone while she came to get me, but in my sheer panic I cry out and fall into Dec as grief overwhelms me.
“Nic, calm down. Look.” When I eventually pull myself away from his chest and glance over my shoulder, I see the excited deep brown eyes of my puppy.
