I arrive in Heathrow four hours later than expected, so it’s 5 a.m. Hong Kong time and I haven’t slept Even flying first-class, the time zone difference messes me up for a few days.
When I turn on my phone, a strange number appears. I only answer anonymous numbers in case it’s an emergency related to Daniel. I only give out my personal number to friends, family and school emergency contact numbers. My company phone is vetted by Ed, who filters out the unwanted calls, which is the majority of them.
So, when I see a strange number calling me, I answer it. “Hello?”
“Tristan?” A high-pitched Welsh lilt shrills. “It’s Megan.”
I instantly freeze. “What is it?” I ask sharply.
Heavy breaths are heard through the phone. “Elly’s in hospital!” The rest is just a muffled noise with one word I can make out. Attack.
My heart stops. “What? Who attacked her?”
“Her IBD attacked her.” Megan says breathlessly. “Frank and I are on our way to the hospital now.”
“Megan, I don’t understand. What?”
“She passed out,” she stammers. I can hear traffic in the background. “It’s bad, Tristan. This has never happened before. They took her away in an ambulance. A random restaurant called me from her phone.”
“Is she awake?” I wrench my bag from the overhead locker with such force that nearby passengers give me filthy looks. I don’t give a fuck. How bad is this? Can you die from Crohn’s?
“I don’t know.” Her voice spikes upwards as she struggles to talk and walk. “I’m nearly there.”
“What hospital?” I yell.
“St. George’s, Tooting. Just round the corner from our house.”
“See you there.”
“Tristan?” she starts before I hang up. “I don’t know if she would want me contacting you…it’s just we don’t know many people in London. I’m really scared.”
“It’s fine, Megan,” I say in a softer tone. “You did the right thing. I’ll be with you in about forty minutes. As quick as I can.”
They haven’t opened the plane doors yet and I’m starting to act like a caged rat. They need to hurry the fuck up.
I hang up and call George on speed-dial. “George, be ready at Arrivals. We need to go ASAP to Tooting hospital.”
***
Elly
‘Elly, I can’t find a good vein on this arm. Let me try your hand.” The nurse tilts my hand, running her fingers over the veins. She has tried so many veins, I look like a drug addict. Because I’m so dehydrated, the veins are impossible to stick a needle into. “Yeah, I’ll give this one a shot.”
“In the hand?” Megan whimpers from the side of the bed. “Oh Lord, I can’t watch.”
“You’re not helping, Megan.” I tilt my head away from the nurse and towards Megan. I can’t watch either. The idea of a cannular in my hand makes me shiver, like someone scraping their nails across a blackboard.
The nurse lifts my hand because I don’t have the strength to do it myself. The salt drip is working but not fast enough. I barely feel alive.
Everywhere I look there are cannulas hanging off me. They’ve inserted a cannular to rehydrate me, another to take regular blood samples, and now they are sticking a third in me to administer a steroid drip. The steroid drip is to get my IBD flare under control.
The curtain rustles, and the doctor who spoke to me when I first came in pops his head around it. He’s young and attractive but I can’t look him in the eye. Not since he performed an anal examination with his finger whilst making small talk. Not another finger in the butt test, please. Neither my ass nor my ego can handle anymore.
“How are you feeling, Elly?”
I shift in bed. “Bit better,” I lie.
“I have your blood work back.” He studies the chart in his hand then smiles sympathetically. “It’s no wonder you are in so much pain. You have a severely inflamed colon. We’ll get this under control but expect to be in here for at least four days. You need to receive steroid infusions until your blood work shows the inflammation is gone.”
Four days? I need to finish the contract reviews Sophie has given me in three.
“I’ll be back later to discuss more with you. Just rest up.”
“Thanks, doctor,” Megan purrs loudly as he closes the curtain.
I would roll my eyes if it didn’t hurt. My head feels like I’ve been stuck in a desert for forty nights with no water.
“Elly, Tristan just messaged me back.” Her eyes widen. “He’s on his way. I’m sorry.”
My chest tightens painfully.
No. He can’t see me like this.
I contemplate making a run for it. Maybe Megan and Frank could wheel my bed into a different ward. Or the morgue.
I can’t believe Megan called him. The last thing I need is for Tristan to check on me out of some misplaced guilt or obligation. Maybe he feels as if he has a duty of care as a boss or an ex-boyfriend. Or maybe he thinks I have no one else to turn to like some needy pathetic ex-girlfriend. It’s humiliating.
I have tubes coming out of both my arms and my nose. My hair is greasy, my eyes are puffy, and I’m sweating from lying in this bed. I look hideous.
An inflamed colon isn’t exactly a turn on, is it? If anything, it’ll confirm to him that he made the right choice.
“It’s okay,” I whisper to Megan because it’s not her fault. I don’t blame her for panicking.
His visit is just another item to add to the anxiety list. My list is growing.
My Crohn’s is officially out of control.
I’m as bloated as a Pot-bellied pig.
I’m stuffed full of steroids meaning by this time tomorrow I’ll have a face the size and shape of a full moon.
It also means I’m stuck in hospital for four days and will miss my work deadlines.
My mum is taking unprescribed drugs that could be horse tranquilisers for all we know.
I accidently drugged my boyfriend’s son.
Causing me to have no boyfriend.
There’s a charge of ten pounds a day to watch TV from my hospital bed.
And last but not least, the massive gaping hole Tristan left in my heart after deciding I wasn’t a good option after all.
I’m not sure what the priority order is.
I cry as I begin to lose control. Silent tears as I don’t have the energy to blubber. I can’t help this pity party.
I’m scared. I’m really fucking scared.
And stressed.
The nurse says don’t stress; it will make my flare-up worse. Does she know how stressful it is trying not to stress?
Megan squeezes my hand.
I glance over to find her watching me worried. Frank is watching the football on the TV wasting my money.
“Elly,” the nurse says gently as she peeps around the curtain. “You have another visitor.”
My heart hammers in my chest. I’m not prepared for this. Not now, in hospital, when I’m at my lowest.
Tristan steps inside the curtain before I can protest.
Every part of me tenses.
“Elly.” He stares at me, horrified. Like the devil has just materialised in front of him. I’ve never felt more unattractive in my entire life. He’s in jeans and the t-shirt I first saw him in, in Mykonos, making my heart break a little bit more.
The stalled air I’d been holding expels from my lungs in a gargle.
I stare back, ashamed and broken hearted.
I never wanted him to see me like this. My red wine loose lips meant he knew about my IBD from the beginning, but I skirted over it and joked about it. I knew he didn’t understand how bad it could get. Not really. Most people don’t. One guy I dated said it was too much information when I told him. When I had a flare, John simply ignored it. I stayed away and he let me.
Now Tristan can see it at its worst.
“You don’t need to be here,” I say, mortified. “I’m sorry Megan called. She just panicked. Its fine, you can leave now.”
His jaw tenses as he scans my body taking in the various tubes and needles. “I do need to be here. I need to make sure you’re okay, Elly.”
I stare into his beautiful heart-breaking face. I hate how he has become the puppet master of my emotions.
Megan clears her throat as her and Frank exchange looks. “Do you want us to -”
“No,” I cut in sharply. “Sorry about the inconvenience, Tristan, there was no need for you to come.”
I focus on my cannula pretending to fix it. I can’t meet his gaze, not when I know my eyes are so puffy I look like I’ve had a severe allergic reaction.
“Megan, Frank, can you give us some privacy please?” he asks.
“No need, stay,” I say, begging Megan with my eyes.
Megan rises from her chair, tugging at Frank’s arm. Traitors. “We’ll be right outside.” They close the curtain behind them, trapping me in the blue curtained stall with Tristan.
He takes a seat in the plastic chair that is way too small for his frame. For a moment he just stares at me.
“Are you in pain?”
I stiffen. I don’t need his pity. “I’m fine. I’m not your concern anymore.”
“Right now, you are my only concern.”
I stare back at him, angry and hurt. He has no right to say that to me. He made me trust him. He broke down my barriers when I wanted to keep them up. He told me I meant more. He let me fall in love with him. Then he went back to his real life. Rich man’s midlife crisis, the movie.
His frown deepens. “What happened?”
“I passed out because I was so dehydrated and low in iron.” I try to keep my voice steady. “Just a flare-up.”
“A flare-up that landed you in the hospital,” he murmurs. “We can get you private treatment. Madison healthcare will cover it. We’ll sort this. Whatever it takes.”
He reaches for my hand, but I snap it away.
I smile sadly at his ignorant optimism. “Money can’t solve every problem, Tristan.”
“Believe me I know that, Elly.” He grips the steel railing of the bed tightly making it shake. “When you get out, you’ll come and live with me where I can look after you.”
What?
My eyes snap up to his. “Is this a sick joke? You want me to stay with you and your ex-wife? Is this to do with some ridiculous guilt you have?”
He pulls back from me. “What?”
“I know you moved Gemina into the townhouse.”
“Did you call at my house?”
I stare at the TV, still showing the football, so he can’t see the fresh tears forming.
“Elly, Gemina and I are not back together.”
I let out an unattractive snort. “Bullshit. This whole time you tell string me along, telling me half the story. What am I? Rebound or a way to make her jealous?” My voice finally breaks.
“Neither,” he says forcefully. “You couldn’t be farther from the truth. Look at me.” His hand takes mine and this time he doesn’t let me snap it away. “She wanted the house, and I gave it to her. I moved out and Daniel and Gemina moved in.”
I force my gaze back to his, blinking. “Gemina said…” What did Gemina say when I visited? I was too distraught to listen.
“It doesn’t matter what Gemina said. I’m telling you the truth. I’ll tell you the full story. Anything you want to know.”
“You’re not back with her?” My voice is so quiet I’m not sure I’ve asked the question out loud.
“No.”
“You’re single?”
“No.” He frowns. “I’m not single. I’m with you.” He takes a deep breath and scrubs his forehead with his hand. “But she did come on to me and I…nearly let it happen. My emotions were all over the place.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. I’m not sure why his words hurts so much since I already thought they were together. But having him say it out loud makes it ten times worse.
“I’m sorry,” he says hoarsely. “It was a moment of poor judgement. Let me make it right.”
“I knew getting involved with you would hurt me too much,” I whimper.
“It doesn’t have to.”
“Did you sleep with her?”
“No,” he says firmly. “Absolutely not. I came close to kissing her but stopped it. That’s all. Let me wipe the slate clean. Even touching Gemina was a fuck-up. Blaming you for what happened with Daniel was a massive fuck-up. I couldn’t see the wood from the trees. The fear of losing Daniel made me irrational. I’m sorry.” Guilt flits across his face. “What happened with Daniel wasn’t your fault, it was mine. I should have been watching my own son. I was hurt and lashed out at you. Forgive me, Elly. I don’t handle stress related to my son well.”
“I don’t understand. I thought Daniel’s real dad was a one-night stand.” He stiffens when I say real. “But I saw him at the hospital.”
His head drops, shoulders sagging. “I found out something a few weeks before you started Madison. It broke my heart. A couple years ago, I found out Daniel wasn’t my son. I had come to terms with that, it didn’t change anything. As long as Daniel’s paternal dad was faceless, I could deal with it. I forgave her and for over a year I tried to save my marriage.” He swallows hard in his throat. “But it wasn’t just a one-night stand. Gemina lied. She had been having an affair on and off for four years with her mentor. The man I had introduced her to, to get her career moving. He’s the birth father.”
I stare at him for a long beat. No wonder he is so troubled about his son. “But now… she wants you back?”
“Apparently, yes. She doesn’t know what she wants. That’s Gemina. She said she’s made a mistake. She wants us to be a family again. It’s irrelevant. I love you.”
My lips tremble hearing the words for the first time. These are the words I’ve longed to hear but… “Gemina will always have a hold over you. You won’t choose me over Daniel and I don’t expect you too.”
“I’ll figure it out. I can’t be with Gemina just to see my son. Just like we will figure out how to handle your IBD. Together.”
I bite by lip hard to stop my face from screwing up with tears.
A bell rings at reception meaning we have ten minutes left of visiting time.
“It’s probably best that you…” I start.
He nods. “Can I visit you tomorrow?”
“No,” I say in a hard whisper. “You don’t get to waltz in and out of my life whenever you choose. I need time.”
Looking flustered, Tristan rubs the back of his neck. As if for once he has no idea how to handle a situation. Even when Daniel overdosed, he panicked but remained in control. “I’ll give you all the time in the world.”
Silence fills the space.
“Where are you living?” I ask.
His lips twitch. “In one of Jack’s smart apartments. Just until I buy somewhere else.”
“How’s that?”
“Things keep beeping in the kitchen. They’re doing my head in. Less for Natalia to clean though so she’s happy.” Hr nods to my tray of compartmentalised dinner scraps. “How’s the food?”
I let out a weak snort. “They ran out of horse tartare so I ended up going for the beef hotpot.”
When he leans over to kiss my forehead I stiffen but don’t pull away.
He leans so close to my ear, for a moment I think he’s going to kiss it. “I love you, Elly. I fall a little more in love with you every day. Don’t give up on us.”
Rustling on the other side of the curtain snaps me out of my daze.
“I think they are wrapping up,” I hear Megan’s whisper on the other side of the curtain.
Good,” Frank mutters. “Because it’s nearly into penalties.”
