Chương 4
Evan had not texted.
Normally I would have checked the weather, looked at traffic maps, sent a message reminding him to use a rideshare. I would have left the hall light on and slept badly, listening for the door.
Instead, I set my phone to Do Not Disturb, placed it face down on the nightstand, and went to sleep.
The ringing entered my dream as a fire alarm.
When I opened my eyes, the room was dark. Evan’s side of the bed remained untouched.
My phone stopped vibrating, then started again.
The clock read 4:03.
Nine missed calls.
All from Ryan.
I sat up and answered.
“Ryan?”
For several seconds, I heard only breathing and a broken sound that might have been my name.
“Ryan, where is Evan?”
“Oh, God.”
Every trace of sleep left me.
“Is he alive?”
“Yes. Yes, he’s alive.”
I put my feet on the floor.
“What happened?”
“He crashed.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“Where?”
“Near Mercer. He’s at Harborview. They took him to Harborview.”
I stood too quickly and caught the edge of the nightstand.
“How bad?”
“They don’t know yet. He hit the barrier. There’s a head injury. Ribs. They’re checking for bleeding.”
“Was he driving?”
Ryan’s breath caught.
“Yes.”
“Had he been drinking?”
Another silence.
“Ryan.”
“Yes.”
I closed my eyes.
“Is anyone else hurt?”
He began crying again.
Not quietly. Not with dignity. His voice collapsed.
“Ryan, who else was in the car?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Who?”
“Her name is Maya.”
The name meant nothing to me, which made it worse.
“Who is Maya?”
“She works with Evan.”
I looked at the empty half of the bed.
“Was this a guys’ night?”
“It started that way.”
“What does that mean?”
“I have to tell you what happened. I have to tell you everything, but not on the phone. Please come to the hospital.”
“Is she alive?”
“Yes. She’s hurt, but she’s alive.”
“Did her family get called?”
“I don’t know.”
I pulled open a drawer and grabbed jeans.
“Did Evan call me?”
“No.”
“Did he ask for me?”
“He wasn’t conscious.”
I put the phone on speaker and dragged a sweater over my head.
“Why are you calling instead of the police?”
“They found your number in his emergency contacts. Somebody from the hospital may call too. I just—I couldn’t let you hear this from someone who didn’t know.”
“Know what?”
Ryan inhaled shakily.
“Please come.”
The line went quiet.
“Ryan.”
“The thing Evan told you,” he said. “About us saying you weren’t good enough.”
My hand stopped on the bedroom door.
“What about it?”
“It wasn’t true.”
Rain covered the windshield on the drive to Harborview. The wipers pushed it aside and it returned immediately.
I drove with both hands locked around the steering wheel. Ryan’s words repeated in pieces.
It wasn’t true.
Her name is Maya.
It started that way.
At a red light, I realized I had put my sweater on inside out. The tag scratched the base of my neck. I left it.
The hospital entrance was bright and nearly empty. A security guard pointed me toward the emergency department. Somewhere behind a closed door, a machine beeped at regular intervals.
Ryan stood when he saw me.
There was blood dried along the sleeve of his jacket. He looked older than he had at our last barbecue, when he had spent twenty minutes arguing that charcoal grills were a personality test.
“Lauren.”
“Is that his blood?”
He looked down as though he had forgotten the stain. “Some of it.”
“Where is he?”
“They took him for another scan.”
“Have you spoken to a doctor?”
“Not really. I’m not family.”
“You called his parents?”
“No. I thought you should—”
“Call them.”
He flinched.
“His father has a heart condition,” he said.
“Then tell his mother first.”
Ryan nodded, but did not move.
“Who is Maya?”
He rubbed both hands over his face.
“She’s a regional marketing manager. Evan met her at some conference.”
“When?”
“I don’t know exactly.”
“Tonight?”
“No.”
The word settled between us.
“How long has he known her?”
“A few months.”
“And how long have you known?”
“I knew they were texting.”
“How long?”
“Lauren—”
“How long?”
“Since June, maybe.”
It was September.
A nurse approached and asked my name. She spoke gently, but not as though Evan were dying. That distinction became the only thing in the hallway I could hold.
She told me he was stable. He had a concussion, several broken ribs, a fractured wrist, and injuries they were still evaluating. He would be admitted. They were monitoring him closely.
“Can I see him?”
“When he returns from imaging.”
She gave me a clear plastic bag containing his belongings.
The bag was heavier than it looked.
His wallet. Keys. Belt. Watch. A cracked phone. One shoe. His wedding ring, sealed in a smaller pouch.
And a hotel key card.
I stared at it through the plastic.
Ryan whispered, “I didn’t know about that.”
“You knew enough.”
“I know.”
The nurse asked whether I was all right.
“Yes,” I said automatically.
She glanced at my inside-out sweater but did not mention it.
When she left, I sat down and placed the bag on the chair beside me.
Ryan remained standing.
“What happened?” I asked.
He lowered himself into the chair across from me.
“Nick booked a table at a rooftop bar. It was supposed to be the four of us. Then Evan said some people from work might stop by.”
“Maya.”
“And another woman. A guy from their office.”
“Did she know he was married?”
Ryan looked at the floor.
“I think she knew he had been married.”
I waited.
“He told her you were separated.”
My body went cold in a way that had nothing to do with the hospital air.
“We live together.”
“I know.”
“We share a bed.”
“I know.”
“He asked me which shirt to wear.”
May you like
Ryan covered his mouth.
I wanted to despise him. It would have been easier if he had been cruel. Instead, he looked sick with himself, and that gave my anger nowhere clean to land.
