Page 12 of All the Forbidden Things
Was that only today? Or was it yesterday? I’ve no fucking clue right now.
“You got some shoes you can put on, dude? And a hoodie or a jacket? Where’d you leave your phone? You’re going to have to call her parents. Let them know what’s going on. Mel will call your mum.”
I stand and purse my lips before blowing out a long slow breath. “What the fuck is happening to my life?” I ask Cal.
He scratches his head and then shakes it. “I don’t know, mate. I really don’t know, but as much as I hate to say it, it looks like karma has come back to bite a huge chunk out of your wife’s skinny, cheating arse.”
“Callum!” Mel snaps at him.
I don’t know how to respond to that. Should I punch my best mate? Defend my cheating wife? I’m honestly not capable of making any kind of decision about anything right now, so I say nothing. I do nothing. Callum leaves the room and comes back a few minutes later with my phone, a hoodie, and a pair of flip-flops. His hand goes to the middle of my back, and he steers me out to Aaron’s waiting car.
Max
The Royal Free is afive-minute drive from my house in St John’s Wood, but even at almost ten o'clock on a Saturday night, traffic is heavy. I sit alone in the back of Aaron’s car and watch the people wandering the streets of Belsize Park. For a moment, I lose myself. I forget about yesterday’s and today's events, forget about where I’m going and what I’m about to face. Momentarily confused, I ask, “Where’s Layla?”
Cal turns around from the front passenger seat. “Mel’s with her, mate. She’s gonna call your mum and Gaynor. Gaynor will arrange a car to pick your mum up and bring her to yours, then Mel can come to the hospital.”
I nod. “Whit’s been in an accident,” I say to no one. It was meant to be said in my head, but everything’s a jumbled, fucked-up mess in there, so I talk to myself aloud while trying to get my thoughts into some kind of order before we reach the hospital.
“Yeah, but we don’t know the details yet. Once we do, you need to call her parents and let them know what’s happening. Then we’ll sort out getting them over here,” Cal comments.
I wanna tell him to shut up. Tell him I don’t care about Whit’s parents. I don’t know if I even care about Whitney. Should I? Is it wrong that all I feel is totally fucking numb?
“I’ll drop you two here and go find a parking spot. Message and let me know where you are,” Aaron says, pulling to a stop outside the accident and emergency department.
I don’t want to be here, don’t want to get out of the car, and I definitely don’t want my wife to be inside. I’m not exactly sure what my feelings are for Whitney, but I don’t want her hurt.
I rub both my hands up over my jaw, cheeks, and into my hair as Cal stands and holds the door open, waiting for me to move. I climb out and begin to walk, my legs feeling weird, as if they don’t belong to me. I struggle to keep up with Cal and let him lead the way to a reality I’m not sure I’m ready to face.
I’m usually good at not losing my shit in a crisis, but that’s probably because I’ve never been at the centre of one. When Callum’s dad and stepmum were killed, I was the one who made all the calls to the right people, and me who made all the necessary arrangements. Even when I got the call telling me Whitney had gone into labour, I was calm. I remained chilled throughout the delivery, not losing it until they placed my daughter in my arms.
But this whole situation feels surreal. It’s not just that I feel as if I’m watching from afar, it’s that nothing feels as if it belongs to me. My legs are being controlled by someone else, and my skin tingles as if I’m having an allergic reaction and want to strip right out of it. The woman I’m walking in to see isn’t even really mine. My head feels completely fogged, distorting sounds and my ability to think straight.
After speaking to someone at an information desk, we’re led through a set of doors that need a card swipe to allow us entry. Once we’re through, I follow Cal into another room containing a two-seater sofa, an armchair, and a water cooler.
I lean forward and rest my hands on my bouncing knees. Drawing in deep breaths, I attempt to pull myself together.
“You doing okay?” I hear Cal ask above the constant buzzing in my head
“Not even a little bit.”
“Try and hold in there till we know what’s going on. She’s gone to get a doctor.”
“Who?”
“The nurse.”
“I’m losing my fucking shit here, man. I can't keep it together, can’t think straight,” I admit.
“You don’t need to. I’ve been there, remember? I know what it’s like, and like you had me, I’ve got you.”
Filled with nervous energy, I’m unable to sit still for long. I stand and move to the middle of the room. I’m in one of the biggest hospitals in the country, in one of the busiest cities in the world, and I feel completely and utterly alone.
I cover my mouth with my hand as I feel my lips begin to tremble.
Cal moves instantly and wraps his arms around me. “Max. It’s all right. It’s all right to be scared, and it’s all right to cry.”
The door to the room opens at the same time as Cal’s phone rings. He silences the call as a short, dark-haired man wearing glasses and light blue scrubs approaches us.
