Hate You Not

Needless to say, I spend most of my face-down time thinking of June. I can’t believe I told them to call her.

Around the thirty-six hour mark, when I’m hoping to be cleared to sit up, a nurse helps me get up off the bed and walk into the bathroom. I’m shocked to find that I can barely do it. My vision is still blurry as shit, and my legs are weirdly shaky.

“That will clear up as time passes,” the dude nurse offers as he guides me back to bed.

I nod before I lie back down, moving carefully because my head is throbbing and my chest and shoulder ache. The nurse pulls the blankets back over my legs for me. I shut my eyes and bring my arm over my head a little. For some reason, right now, I feel like I might cry. I don’t know if it’s allowed—if it will fuck my damaged eye up more—but if I can’t control it and the tears come, I don’t want this random motherfucker seeing.

The door opens again, and I grit my teeth. Lucky number thirty.

I can tell it’s her in the first second. Maybe I can smell her or I recognize her gait. I don’t know how, but even with my senses all fucked up, I know for sure it’s June who comes through the door—and my heart slams into my ribs.

I’m holding my breath as the nurse says something to her, and she replies in soft tones from what sounds like over by the door. I can’t hear over the whoosh of my blood in my ears.

Then I feel her by the bed. Her palm comes down on my back and then slowly rubs a circle, sending warmth all through me…making my throat tighten.

“B? Hey there.” Her voice is so damn soft. It’s like a fucking caress.

“He can get up,” the nurse cuts in. “Mr. Masterson,” he says crisply, “you’ve reached the thirty-six hour mark. I can help you sit up if you’d like.”

But I don’t want his help. I don’t want June to step back. I grit my teeth and squeeze my eyes shut, forgetting about the hurt one and then panting from the pain I caused by tensing that part of my face.

“What do you think?” June says, her hand still on my back; her voice sounds right by my ear, so I’m pretty sure she’s leaning down. “Do you think you want to sit up?”

I don’t know. I look like shit, and I’m scared of what I’ll see on her face. Her hand rubs my back again, and I let out a loud sigh. “Why the fuck not.”

She moves away, and I feel like an invalid as the nurse helps me position to shift onto my back. Then I do—I turn over—and the pain almost makes me groan. I fell through a bad spot in some flooring down into the room below, which was filled with plywood scraps.

I don’t remember the impact—it knocked me out—but I feel like I got trampled by a heard of buffalo. My ribs and shoulder seemed to take the brunt of it, along with my forehead—and this one eye—but I’ve got sore spots all over, and my joints all feel stiff and creaky.

I close my eyes as the nurse raises the bed’s headboard. My hurt eye and my head start to throb from all the movement. Then the throbbing makes my stomach churn.

Oh, shit. I’m not gonna get sick.

I press my lips together till the sensation eases. Then I crack my eye open. My heart races when I realize June is right beside me. I look up at her, but I can’t fucking see her. I blink twice, my brain unwilling to accept that I can’t see her face—she’s blurry—and when she doesn’t become visible to me, my stomach lurches.

One of the machines hooked up to me starts a shrill beeping. “Maybe you should lie back down,” the nurse says. He silences the alarm, then lowers the headboard without further conversation. “If you’d like to, we can elevate the bed again when I check on you next.”

Did he leave? I can’t even fucking see. My pulse surges. Lying on my stomach, I couldn’t tell how fucking helpless I am. I’m like…blind. Or might as well be. I feel like I’m viewing things from underwater, and my “bad eye” is covered with a bandage, so it doesn’t make sense.

I blink at June as both eyes and my throat start to sting. I can see her face a little better for a split second before my fucking eyes spill over.

I drag air into my lungs and cover my eyes with my hand, but it’s too late. I feel her weight indent the mattress. She wraps an arm around me like we’re lovers…or at least good friends. Not like I disappeared on her without a word of explanation.