What Happens Tomorrow (16 page)

DINNER AT MY parents is going great. They love her just like I knew they would. There’s something about Brooke that draws people in. Maybe it’s her gentle nature, or maybe it’s that they can sense her sadness and want to know her story.

During my weekly telephone call with my mom this past week, I happened to tell her about Brooke’s past. I’m not sure why I told her. I know it wasn’t my story to tell. She seemed genuinely shocked and concerned about Brooke’s well being.

But then tonight …

She chose tonight of all nights, while we’re washing dishes, to voice her concerns. I explain things are great and that I’m happy, that Brooke makes me happy, but she still has to get in her two cents. I get that she’s only looking out for my well being but fuck! I’m a grown man. I think I’m capable of making decisions about my love life.

Brooke doesn’t look good when she comes into the kitchen while we’re finishing up. She says it’s a migraine and that she needs to go home and lie down. I’m not sure I believe her. I can tell when something’s bothering her because she gets this strange crease above her left brow that’s more predominant when she’s upset and it’s apparent during the drive home that she doesn’t have a migraine. Something is definitely bothering her.

And then the lightbulb flicks on…

Shit!

Nervously, I ask if she’s really sick and she confirms my worst fear. She overheard our conversation.

FUCK!

I pull into my stall, parking the SUV. The moment we come to a stop I watch agonizingly as she hurries out the door—away from me.

Panic.

I finally catch up and grab her arm to stop her. I’m not letting her run anymore. She needs to realize she can’t keep running from us—from life.

She’s stronger than that.

But once again she pushes me away, telling me we’re over. I’ve heard this before, it’s nothing new. Brooke has a strong flight response. So instead of fighting her, I decide it’s best to give her the space she needs. It kills me to let her go, but I have to because I love her.

And I know she loves me.

A few hours later, I decide to check on her. All the lights are off in her apartment, so I’m sure she’s gone to bed. Things will be clearer in the morning.

Back at my apartment, I decide to call it a night as well, only I can’t sleep. I get up and surf the channels, looking for something to watch, when my cell phone starts to ring. Quickly, I answer before my voicemail has a chance to intercept, only it’s not Brooke’s voice on the other end. It’s Jenna and she sounds panicked.

“Tyler, Brooke and I were out at a bar after your fight. She started feeling really sick, so we left and we’re in a cab on our way home but she’s passed out.” I hear the worry in her voice and I understand her concern. We both know she isn’t a big drinker.

“How much did she have, Jenna?”

“She only had three, but after the drink this guy bought us, she was done.”

What?
“Where are you? How far from home?” I don’t wait for her to answer before I begin my verbal assault on her. “Are you both fucking idiots? You never accept drinks from guys you don’t know. Damn it, Jenna! I thought you were both smarter than that!”

I hear the distraught quiver in her tone. I didn’t mean to upset her, but what were they thinking? “Sounds like he might have slipped something into her drink. How are you feeling?”

“Fuck! Tyler, we’re almost home. Can you meet us out front? I think you might be right.” I grab my wallet and keys as I sprint out of my apartment and down the stairs. “Don’t worry. I’m on my way.”

I WAKE TO the feel of my body rolling to my side. My mouth is dry like I’ve been stranded in the desert for a month with no water, and my throat burns as I try to swallow.

Ouch!

The throbbing in my head is excruciating. I’ve never felt a headache like this in my life and I’ve had some unbelievable headaches. It feels like every single ounce of blood in my body has rushed to the top of my skull and is trying to escape my body like a river trying to breach a dam. The pressure is unbearable.

I attempt to lift my aching arm over my eyes, trying to block out the light, but the more I move my arm the more I feel something tugging…an intravenous line.

Wait…what’s that beeping noise? It sounds familiar. Like … hospital equipment? Am I in the hospital? Why?

What happened to me?

I feel my pulse speeding up as anxiety begins to set in. Slowly, I open my eyes and see Tyler slumped in the chair beside me, sound asleep.

How did he know I was here?

“Tyler.” I try to wake him by gently nudging his arm. It’s all the strength my body can muster at the moment. “Tyler, please…wake up,” I repeat quietly. I’m scared if I speak any louder my voice will kick my headache up a notch. Sleepily his eyes open and then he promptly sits up. Seconds later he’s seated on the edge of my bed, tenderly stroking my cheek.

“Thank god you’re awake. You scared the hell out of me!” There’s no mistaking the sound of heartfelt relief in his words.

I close my eyes, and a sudden wave of nausea threatens to overcome me just as I feel his warm lips affectionally press against my forehead.

I start to cry.

The emotion of not knowing why I’m in the hospital….

Feeling sick…

Having him here…

Taking care of me…

Loving me…

Cherished.

“Tyler,” I quietly ask, wiping the tears with the back of my hand, “why am I in the hospital? What happened to—”

It strikes with a vengeance before I can finish my sentence. “Oh god…Ty, I’m gonna throw-up.”

He quickly hands me one of those paper hospital bowls as I violently heave with every last ounce of strength my body has. My head feels like it’s about to explode as I slump back against my pillow. He leans over and pushes the call button as he passes me a tissue to wipe my lips. Tenderly stroking my back he asks, “You all right?”

Cautiously, I shake my head. I don’t think that’s the end of my being sick. “I’m still nauseous, if that’s what you’re asking. Where’s Jenna? Is she okay?” I question as he takes my hand in his.

The last time someone took hold of my hand in the hospital I learned my family was dead. I rip my hand away from Tyler, startling him. If he isn’t holding my hand he can’t give me bad news.

Terrified.

What happened to us last night?

“Jenna’s okay. She was here most of the night, but I sent her home to get some sleep.” Reassuringly he takes my hand again, and I let him.

Relief.

A dark haired nurse in her mid forties walks into my room. With a chart in hand, she walks over and proceeds to check my vitals. “Good, you’re finally awake. I’m Sandra, your nurse for today. How are you feeling?”

I glance up at her from my pillow and moan. “Not very good.”

“Do you remember anything about last night?”

I try to think back to the evening, but everything’s fuzzy. “I remember being upset.” Tyler glances at me, the pain from last night evident in his eyes. “And I remember drinking, but I don’t remember much else. How much did I drink last night? I’ve never blacked out from drinking before.

Sandra finishes taking my blood pressure and temperature, and I roll on my side to face Ty. He affectionally cradles my face in his hand then runs his thumb tenderly across my cheek.

Safe.

The next wave of nausea hits.

“I’m gonna throw up again!” I say motioning to the paper barf trays. I scrunch my face tight as the retching begins. “What’s happening to me?”

Sandra walks over with a syringe. “I’ll give you something to ease the nausea, honey.” She pushes the syringe into my IV and I feel the cool liquid flow through my veins.

“Brooke, we think you were drugged last night … roofied,” Tyler tells me.

Roofied? “How is that possible?” I question.

“It happens more than you can imagine, honey, but don’t worry, right now all you need to do is rest. The medication I gave you should kick in soon and I’ll be back a little later to check on you. Call if you need anything,” she says before she leaves the room.

“Tyler, I —”

“Shhh, we’ll talk about it later. Right now, close your eyes. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

My eyes start to droop as they get heavier. I need for him to know that I made I mistake. I have to tell him before sleep takes hold of me.

This can’t wait.

One thing I’ve learned in my life is to not put off the important things. Life is too short to keep quiet or have regrets. I have to tell him how I feel right now.

“I have to tell you something, please, just hear me out. I was so angry and hurt last night. I couldn’t think straight…I’m sorry. I’m still learning how to deal with all these feeling I have for you. Sometimes my fight or flight response takes over before my brain can stop it.” Never taking his eyes off me, he leans in and gently brushes his lips against mine. As he pulls away, his eyes soften and lips curve into a knowing smile.

“Don’t worry…I knew. It’s all gonna be okay, I promise. Now close your eyes and sleep.” I slowly nod, and he sits down on the bed beside me, lying back against my pillow as he pulls me into the safe confines of his arms. The thrumming sound of his beating heart and the familiar smell of his body are all it takes for me to completely relax.

My Tyler is here.

“I love you, Brooke,” he says, running his fingertips endearingly up and down my back. “You should know by now, you won’t get rid of me that easily.” His thumb catches the lone tear trailing down my cheek. “Shhh, now. Everything’s okay. We’re okay.”

“How did you know I was here?”

He removes his hand from my cheek and rubs his forehead. His eyes close tight as his lips set in a heavy line. “Jenna called me last night when you were on your way home from the bar. You’d passed out in the cab. We tried everything to wake you, but you wouldn’t wake and then you vomited a couple of times. You had me so scared. We loaded you into my vehicle and drove here. The doctors think you were drugged.”

“But how? I never take drinks from strangers, and I never leave my drink unattended. This was something my dad drilled into my head as a teenager.”

“Jenna told me about a guy who sent the waitress over with drinks for you. It could have been him.”

I close my eyes tight, trying to remember the stranger he’s talking about, but it’s no use. I can’t remember much of last night other than being upset with Tyler and arriving at the bar with Jenna. “This is all my fault. I did this to myself. What if…”

He grasps my chin between his thumb and forefinger and gazes deeply into my eyes. “You did not do this, do you hear me? The person that drugged you did. He did this. You did nothing wrong. Now, lie back and rest. I want my girl out of here and back home...safe with me where I can take care of you, okay?”

I feel guilty listening to him recant last night’s events. Guilty because if I would have only stopped and listened to what he had to say this wouldn’t have happened. I’m still incredibly tired but all I want to do is go home.

Panic.

Charlie!

Sensing my anxiety, Tyler lightly kisses my forehead. “Charlie’s fine. He’s staying with Jenna.”