Page 14 of All the Forbidden Things
“What Whit, what the fuck happened?” I know she can’t hear me, but I’m overcome with a need to ask the question. I still can’t get a handle on how I’m feeling. I love her, of course I still love her, that didn’t end when she walked out the door and left me. But it’s not the same. If this had happened a week ago, Cal would be picking me up off the floor. And as devastated as I am seeing my wife like this, I’m also angry, so fucking angry at her selfishness that I can barely contain it.
I remove my hand from hers and take a step back. When I turn around, Cal is behind me with his hand pressed over his mouth.
His eyes meet mine.
We both cry.
Mum: I didn’t want to call your phone in case you’re supposed to have it switched off but need to know you’re doing ok. So when you get the chance, please message me back. I’m in the car on my way to your house. Mel will come to the hospital once I get there. Please don’t worry about anything this end, I’ve got it covered. Just look after you and Whitney.
I’m so sorry this has happened, Max.
I love you.
Mum x
At least Layla will waketo someone she’s familiar with for her night feeds.
I read through my mum’s message while I sit in yet another hospital waiting room. Whitney’s transfer went without incident, and she’s being assessed by the medical team at The RNOH.
Cal has gone downstairs to wait for Mel, and Aaron is on the phone to a doctor friend of his to find out who the top person is for the job to fix Whitney’s spine.
“What the actual fuck is this shit?” I complain after taking a sip of the terrible hospital coffee. Aaron’s eyes meet mine, but he doesn’t respond, so I return my gaze to the same wall I’ve been starring at for the past few hours. I’ve not responded to my mum as I don’t yet know what Mel has told her. On top of everything else, I don’t want to tell my mum that Whit had left me before the accident and that Layla maynot, in fact, be my daughter.
Nother granddaughter.
Shit, I hadn’t even thought of that.
My mum will be devastated.
After finishing my last gulp of the disgusting beyond belief coffee, I blow out a breath and throw the cup across the room where it lands inside a bin.
Aaron spins around and stares first at me then at the bin where my empty, cardboard cup landed. He yawns, pinches the bridge of his nose above where his glasses sit and ends his call. He looks as exhausted as I feel.
It’s after midnight, and I’ve barely slept in three days, but even if I go home to my big comfy bed, it’s highly likely I still won’t sleep.
The door opens, and Mel and Cal walk in. They’re both carrying takeaway bags from one of my favourite restaurants on St John’s Wood High Street.
My stomach gurgles, but I’m not sure if it’s because I’m hungry or if the thought of food makes me want to throw up.
“I got a couple of soups, and some bagels, two are salt beef, and two are peppered pastrami, there’s got to be something there to put a smile on your dial, guys,” Mel says with a wink.
What I offer in return is probably a very insincere smile, and a whispered, “Thanks,” before asking a little louder, “How’s Layla?”
“Doing what you look like you should be doing, sleeping soundly.”
I scratch at the stubble on my throat and jaw. I’ve not shaved in days. “I’ll go home once I know what’s happening here.”
Cal sits on the sofa next to me, holding a tray of coffees. “This should taste a lot nicer than the shit out of the machine.”
I take the to-go cup he offers with another smile, not having the heart to tell him I’m already full to the eyeballs with the worst coffee ever.
I take a sip, he’s right, at least this is good coffee.
“How was my mum when she got there?” I ask Mel.
“She’s a little shook up. I told her you’d call or message as soon as you have news.”
“Did you tell her what went on before?”
