There is nothing or no one more important to Tristan than his son. This isn’t just a little lover’s tiff like someone left the toilet seat up. The look on Tristan’s face. It was like all his emotions for me had turned to anger in seconds.
The taxi jolts as the car in front fails to move with the green light. I fall forward in my seat.
The taxi driver flashes me a look of irritation. “Can you wear your seat belt, love?”
“Sorry,” I say in a suffocated whisper, pulling the belt over me.
He watches me from his mirror, trying to figure out what’s going on as I struggle to secure the belt with my shaking hands
It isn’t just about whether Daniel will be okay. I’m ashamed to say my fears are about me as well. How will I live with the guilt? Tristan will never forgive me for this, I saw it in his face. I’ve crossed a line that I can’t uncross. My recklessness put his son at risk. His son.
I’ve lost him.
Now, I fear everything. My one stupid careless mistake could mess up every aspect of my life. The taxi crawls along giving me the opportunity to spiral out of control. Can I lose my job over this? How can I continue to work at Madison anyway? Tristan won’t allow it. Worse, is Tristan powerful enough to get me struck off, so I lose my right to practise as a lawyer? I’ve never seen this side of him, and I don’t know what he’s capable of.
What kid wants to swallow a bottle of Valium? Why the hell would you do that? I had them zipped in a side pocket, it’s not like I added them to the meal. Part of me is angry at Daniel for what he did and I can never admit that to Tristan—if he ever speaks to me again that is. Some thoughts should stay private from the world.
My stomach contracts into a tight ball and I worry I’m going to throw up all over this taxicab as it starts and stops at lights and turns. I don’t even know how I ended up in the taxi on the way to the hospital, almost as if I’m having an out-of-body experience.
This is all my fault.
Oh, what I would do to turn back time. All I had to do was drop the pills into the chemist. This morning, Tristan was telling me he wanted us to go public in our relationship, now I’m worried he’s going to get me struck off the Roll of Solicitors
But Daniel was breathing. He’ll be fine.
The alternative is unimaginable.
I didn’t know how long I’d been gripping onto the edge of the taxi, lost in my own world, until the driver’s voice snapped me out of my daze. “You okay, love? The hospital is just over there.”
I clear my throat to thank him. I fumble for my bank card to swipe the card machine. Usually, I curse at how much a taxi costs in central London, today I don’t even notice the price.
As I pelt towards the hospital entrance, I check my phone for the millionth time. Nothing.
Inhaling that distinct hospital smell, I make my way to Emergency.
‘Good afternoon,’ I say shrilly, twirling the loose strands of my hair nervously as the receptionist looks up from her computer. I’m breathing hard and I only ran a few metres.
She waits a moment before arching a brow for me to continue.
“Sorry, I’m here to see a young patient who’s just come in with his father, Daniel Kane.” My body spikes with adrenaline and the words come out in a rush.
“Yes, he came in fifteen minutes ago.” She sounds bored as she turns back to her computer screen. “Only family members can see him right now. Are you family?”
“No.”
“Take a seat for now and one of the family members should be out. We’ll tell them you’re waiting.”
Oh fuck. I’m not sure I’m ready to see Tristan. I’m too scared. Surely one of the nurses can tell me how Daniel is? “Can I just check how he is?”
“No, we don’t disclose details of patients. Only the doctors or nurses can do that.”
“Right,” I mumble, nodding as there’s nothing else I can do. “Thank you.”
Finding a seat, I slump into it before checking my phone again. I turn it off and on, put it in aeroplane mode, and reset the Wi-Fi, all the things Megan tries when Damo ghosts her. I get it now, the agony of waiting for a text message.
No new messages.
In the waiting room, my doomsday brain decides it’ll be the perfect time to think of every worst-case scenario. I’m a drug-pusher. What if Daniel doesn’t make it through? Can I go down for manslaughter?
The internet claims most Valium overdoses only result in unconsciousness, and there have only been a handful of deaths. Please let the internet be right.
Except I can’t even be sure what’s in those pills.
Please let Daniel be okay—he has to be okay.
“Excuse me, my son, Daniel Kane?”
My head jerks upward at the sound of the soft panicked voice.
Shit. Tristan’s ex-wife, Gemina. She looks pale and frantic and it’s all my fault. She’s prettier than I remember. Those cheekbones, no wonder she looked amazing in every photo I found online. This is what contouring is about. I bet she has a professional version of Megan working on her face every morning.
What will she say when she finds out it’s my fault? I hastily take a magazine and place it in front of my face. I don’t know if she would recognise me, but I’m not taking any chances.
“I’ll buzz you in now.” I hear the receptionist say. “One of the nurses will greet you at the door.”
Watching her stride in, I have no choice but to check my phone, again. I don’t know how long I’m in this dazed state before a doctor walks out.
Quickly, I get on my feet. “Doctor, may I ask how Daniel Kane is doing?”
He takes a glance at me for a moment, giving his clipboard to the receptionist before turning to me. “Are you family?”
My face pales at his question. Classing myself as Tristan’s girlfriend currently didn’t count by any means. Am I still his girlfriend? Swallowing my nervousness, I stare up at him. “I’m the father’s girlfriend.”
“Unfortunately, I can’t disclose the patient’s status,” he says apologetically. “I’ll tell the father you’re here.”
Lowering my head, I return to my seat. Tristan already knows I’m here, he’s read at least one of the messages.
I wait.
Visitors and hospital staff swing open the ward door each time, giving me false hope.
I wait some more.
And wait some more.
Finally, I see Tristan.
“Tristan!” I catapult towards him. “How’s Daniel?”
“He’s in a stable condition,” he mumbles, sounding utterly exhausted. “They pumped his stomach.” Tristan’s usual calm and collected demeanour has vanished, replaced by an almost robotic being. His hair is a mess, sticking up in all sorts of directions as he combs his fingers through it. “He’ll be moved to a room for monitoring in a few hours before being released tomorrow.”
“Oh, thank God,” I say, finally feeling as if I can breathe again.
Daniel’s going to be fine. Swallowing the large lump in my throat, I reach out for his hand only to have him take a step back. I feel it like a slap across the face. “Tristan, I’m so sorry, I—’
“I don’t want to hear it right now,” he grinds out coldly. “You should go.” It’s a demand not a suggestion.
“Please, Tristan,” I protest, shaking my head. “I never meant for this to happen. They were tucked away in a side pocket. I’m so sorry that I didn’t think when I asked him to—”
“It doesn’t matter,” he interjects, and I know it’s taking everything in him to speak calmly in a public setting. “It doesn’t matter anymore, Elly. Gemina is furious. My son overdosed in my care. On unprescribed drugs, Elly.” He spits out the words.
“It’ll b-be okay.” I’m stuttering now, and people are staring. I have nothing sensible or logical to say. I don’t know what Gemina will do so my reassurances are unfounded.
I trail off as he stares at me. I just want him to hold me, to tell me that it’s all going to be fine but instead, his eyes are black. “I know that it was my fault for being careless, but…how…how could it not matter?”
“She’s threatening to remove my visitation rights,” he snarls, his voice ragged and hoarse. “Do you understand the severity of this? For me to lose access?”
Lips quivering, I try to talk. “I can explain to Gemina, I can fix—”
“You can’t fix anything,” he roars as he begins to close control. “I’m going to potentially lose access to my son because you took drugs to my house.”
“Tristan, please,” I choke out, feeling tears streak my face. “If Daniel’s safe it will be okay…”
He stares at me, his face paling.
“Taking Mum’s pills was the dumbest idea I’ve ever had. I just wanted to get them out of the house. I was intending to dispose of them. I’m sorry, please, let’s just—’
Our eyes lock, his filled with anger, mine soaked with tears.
“We can’t see each other anymore.”
“What?” I whisper.
His voice comes low and hard as a plethora of emotions flit across his face: fear, shock, confusion. But the one that cuts through me the most is his anger. “Neither of us had a prescription for those. My son overdosed on drugs that shouldn’t have been in my possession. I’m a lawyer, Elly. I’ve enough experience of how these cases go.” he says, his anger seeming to slowly disperse from his body. I would rather have him angry and berating me than dismissing me. “We’re done. Go home.”
“But—”
“I’ll get you transitioned off the case if that’s your concern,” he continues, and it hurts even to think that right now, I even care about the job. It’s the very last thing on my mind. “I said your career wouldn’t be impacted by our relationship, and I’m a man of my word. Now go home.”
“Please, Tristan.” It’s barely a whisper.
He shakes his head, saying two words so slowly that I know it’s the nail on the coffin for us. “My. Son.”
He doesn’t wait to see if I leave. He turns and heads back into the ward, the door slamming shut.
I can’t muster the strength to get back on the train yet. Finding a seat facing the wall, I let out large, unattractive grunts and sobs as I choke on my emotion. I’m ugly-crying so loudly the staff are either going to put me on a ventilator or kick me the hell out of the hospital.
A lady offers me a cup of tea. A nice cup of tea is the answer to every problem in Britain, isn’t it? Slept with your boss? Nice cup of tea will sort that out. Accidently pushed drugs on your boyfriend’s son? Add a biscuit or two with the tea. Dumped by the love of your life who happens to be your boss? Maybe brew a full pot.
“Yes, that would be lovely, thanks.” I smile back at the lady through wet tears, and she inhales sharply when she sees my face. I must look like IT the clown. I can tell by the waiting room folks that they think someone close to me has passed away. Nope, I’ve just been dumped.
“Elly,” a female voice addresses me softly from behind. I turn to see Charlie, Tristan’s sister.
“Charlie,” I snivel and accept a tissue from her. “I didn’t see you come in.”
“He shouldn’t have left you here crying.” Her forehead creases into a deep frown. “This is so out of character for him. He’s just really stressed about what might happen.”
I blow my nose loudly. “I’ve never seen him this angry. At anyone, never mind me.”
She sits down quickly beside me and wraps her arm around me. “Give him time. I’ve never seen him so unhinged. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Tristan cry. He’ll realise his anger is misplaced.”
My jaw quivers. “It doesn’t matter, though. He’ll never forgive me if Gemina refuses visitation rights.”
I can tell by her face she’s worried about that too.
“How can she though?” I stare at her through tears. “Surely he has some rights? He brought up Daniel and his name is on the birth certificate, right?”
She frowns and doesn’t speak for a long moment.
“It sounds like he hasn’t told you the whole story yet. Elly, I can’t…”
“It’s fine,” I sniffle. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. Have you seen Daniel?”
“Yes.” She nods. “I was just in. He’s fine.”
I blow my nose hard into the tissue and feel marginally better. “Thanks for checking on me. Why is it you always see me in compromising situations? Getting kicked out of hotel linen closets, and if I keep making a ruckus the way I am, I’m gonna get kicked out of this hospital too.”
She chuckles and pulls me in for a hug. “I need to go in here, Elly. My mum’s on the way, and on the warpath, so maybe you better hide. It’ll all work out.” She looks at me hopefully. “The main thing is that Daniel is safe. Tristan will calm down and think rationally again.”
I force a smile. I’m not sure either of us believe that.
Just as Charlie is about to say goodbye, the door to the ward opens and Gemina strides out. I watch her approach a man in his fifties that has come into the hospital. I keep watching as they have a strained exchange of words.
“Who is that?” I ask Charlie.
Charlie grimaces.
“That’s Daniel’s birth father.”
