Page 77 of Dearly Unbeloved
It feels good to be back in the lab. Lisa has the day off today, so I’m getting stuck back into lab work instead of shadowing her. It’s all hands on deck before we break for Christmas, and having something meticulous to focus on is exactly what I need. They’re closing the whole building for a week over the holidays, and everyone is excitedly counting down the days.
Not me—a week off work right now sounds like hell—but I’m glad everyone else is excited. Tomorrow marks two weeks since Sierra walked out, and it doesn’t hurt any less.
That’s not to say time hasn’t done anything. After a couple of days of crying, I forced myself to stop and really think about why she did it. It wasn’t about me. I realize that now. She did have feelings for me, because that’s the only thing that would scare her enough to make her leave like she did.
But realizing that doesn’t make me miss her less, and it doesn’t make it easier to sleep at night. All it does is make me worry about her, because if I know Sierra—and I do,even if she blindsided me last week—she’s beating herself up about it. All it does is make me think of her more. I’m glad Lina flew up to be with her, and even more glad that she wasn’t on a date like I thought.
I can’t bring myself to stop wearing my ring. I rub my thumb across the cool metal as I cross the lab to get a new box of pipettes.
I’m halfway across the room, touching my ring, thinking of Sierra, when I hear it. A soft whistle, though I can’t pinpoint exactly where it’s coming from with all the chatter. I turn to Minah and frown.
“Can you hear?—”
The whistling stops.
The room explodes.
I fly through the air. Everything is too loud and silent all at once. Heat licks at my body, smoke filling my mouth. Blinding, deep, excruciating pain ricochets down my left side. Sierra’s face fills my mind, the memory of her soft smile, her twinkling laugh, her gentle touch…
And then, nothing.
38
SIERRA
“Stop, Jazz. I’m not picking sides.”
Jazz raises an eyebrow at Cal. “The fuck you’re not. I’m on Rose’s side, and as my father-in-law, you’re obligated to also be on Rose’s side. No offense,” she adds, looking at me and shrugging.
“None taken,” I say before shoving a forkful of lettuce in my mouth. Jazz has been a little frosty for the past two weeks, but not unprofessional. Not by our standards, anyway. I’m sure she wouldn’t willingly choose to eat lunch with me, but the three of us have had a week full of meetings, and this is the first time we’ve had a chance to sit down together and review our to-do lists before we close for the holidays.
“I’m on both of your sides,” Cal says, ever the diplomat.
“She left Rose without saying goodbye and only left a note!” Jazz protests, but Cal just chuckles.
“Yes, and Maggie did the same to me, remember? And let’s not forget that you and Liam would’ve broken up if he hadn’t refused to accept the breakup. Life has a way ofworking out and giving us the future we’re supposed to have.” He nods toward Jazz’s tummy, where she rests her hand on her tiny bump.
I wish I had that kind of optimism, but right now, I’m just trying to get through the day, and not really thinking about the future. There’s nothing worth looking forward to, anyway.
“I’m just saying, if it was—” Jazz stops speaking as the elevator door slides open and a harried-looking Maggie and Liam rush out.
“We’ve been trying to call you,” Maggie says, panting.
Cal jumps to his feet, already halfway across the room to his wife. “We turned our phones off so we’d be productive. What’s going on, love?”
“It’s Rose,” Liam answers, instead, looking between Jazz and me with an expression of dread. “There was an explosion at her lab. They called Xan. She’s been rushed to the hospital.”
I’ve never been religious, but I spent every second on the drive to the hospital wishing I had someone to pray to. Someone to beg to make sure Rose is okay.
Imogen met us here. Apparently, she tried to call me after the explosion, and when I didn’t pick up, she remembered Xan’s name and found him on Facebook. Thank god for his shitty privacy settings, because, for some unknown reason, Rose’s employers still keep paper files, and theycouldn’t get into the building to check her emergency contact. It would’ve been hours until they’d tracked someone down.
Rose is okay. Better than expected, considering the size of the explosion. She has a broken arm, a concussion, and they’re keeping an eye on her lungs because of the smoke, but it could’ve been so much worse, and she was the only one hurt badly enough for a trip to the ER.
“She was standing closest to the door when it happened,” Imogen told us, her face stark with shock. “She should’ve been the first out, but she refused to leave until she got everyone else out. She was the last one in when the ceiling started coming down.”
Thankfully, the firefighters arrived and pulled her out before it fully collapsed, but god… she could’ve died. She could’ve been crushed, all alone in the lab. The fact that she wasn’t is a goddamn miracle.
“Can you two please stop pacing? Or at least pace together. The constant crossing back and forth is making me nauseous,” Xan says with a groan, sitting back in his chair. “I fucking hate hospitals,” he grumbles. He does look remarkably pale.
