No Attachments (27 page)

Waking up refreshed the next morning, I placed a call to the hospital and cajoled the nurse into giving me an update on Ashton
's status. Pleased to hear that she was on the road to recovery, I got back to my everyday responsibilities, even though the task of trying to take my mind off of her was impossible. The rest of the week followed the same routine: wake up, call the hospital, pretend I was a normal human. The only deviations from my schedule were the days I allowed myself to camp out at the diner to work. I was happier on those days. Being close at hand though, I was beginning to feel like a crazy stalker.

I was working at the diner the following week
, sucking down coffee that the waitresses kept filled to the brim, when in a moment of weakness, I had confessed my real reason for constantly being there. The response was immediate. I was no longer the customer they tried to pawn of on one another. Instead, every waitress fought over who would serve me after that.

"
Today's when she's being released, right?" Cathy, one of the older waitresses, asked, joining me at the booth they designated as mine. It was a prime location due to the fact that it butted up to the big plate glass window that faced the hospital.

"
Yeah," I said, taking a sip of the coffee she'd just topped off. "Charles doesn't know when though."

"
Are you going to talk to her?" she asked, resting the coffee pot on the table.

"
No, I'm going to respect her wishes."

"
That girl doesn't realize how good she has it. I wish I had a man pining after me. You come look me up if you ever get tired of waiting for her," she joked. I knew she wasn't serious. Our story was common knowledge now and all of them were rooting for us.

The day seemed to pass in slow motion as I waited to catch a glimpse of Ashton as she left the hospital. I kept my phone on the table so Charles could reach me if something had changed. By the time the sun started to set
, it became obvious that they had decided not to release her today. Dropping a couple bills on the table, I headed out of the restaurant decisively. I was sick of waiting for Charles to contact me. I would find out for myself what was going on. Fear was of course clouding my head. What if she'd had a relapse and that was the culprit for the silence?

I was halfway across the street
, standing on the median, waiting for traffic to let up, when the hospital doors slid open just as the complimentary valet service pulled an ivory-colored Towncar up to the curb. My eyes found those of the frail woman who held my heart in her hands. I saw her eyes widen with surprise and throw a question to her father who was pushing her wheelchair. I saw him shake his head in denial. Her eyes found mine again, no longer filled with surprise but with horror before they quickly darted away. My heart dropped to my knees as I watched her instruct her father to help her into the car. Within seconds, their car smoothly merged into the oncoming traffic. I stood on the median in disbelief as cars whizzed by me on both sides, but still I remained. In all the times I had fantasized about what our meeting would be like, none of my scenarios had gone like this.

I made my way to my vehicle, paying no attention to
the traffic around me or the honked horns or obscene gestures. I was too busy trying to sift through the facts in my head, the most glaring being that I was a fool. I romanticized about a relationship because of some letter, which in hindsight could have been her way of gently letting me go. She obviously never expected me to change my life around for her. I couldn't even blame her for my stupidity. She didn't ask me to sell my condo and move across the state. All she asked was to give her time. It was obvious by the look she'd given me that she'd never expected to see me again. Our time in Woodfalls was exactly what she always said it was. We'd come together with no attachments. It was time for me to accept that it would never be anything more. It was time to move on.

Ashton

My emotions were a mess by the time my father pulled into our circular driveway. The ride home had passed in tense silence. I ignored the furtive glances he sent my way throughout the drive. I was too ang
ry to acknowledge them.

It annoyed me that I required his help to get to my room
, but my hospital stay had depleted my limited energy supply to a nonexistent level.

"
Can I get you anything?" he asked once I was settled on my bed with Wilma.

I shook my head
, anxious for him to leave. He started to say something, but thought better of it and walked out of my room. The sob I had been holding back since I saw Nathan bubbled up through me the moment the door closed. I wanted to curse fate that he had seen me at that moment. I cringed at what he must have seen. I was a weak shell of the woman I had been in Woodfalls. My body was frail and ravaged from the sickness that had ripped its way through me, but vainly, it was my head that I was the most ashamed of. Upon my release from the hospital, I'd been expecting to go straight home, so I didn't see any reason to wear a hat or one of the silk scarves that my father had bought me. Without looking in the mirror I knew what my head looked like, all I had to do was smooth a hand over its surface to know. All the auburn hair he'd loved was gone. There was nothing left for him to run his fingers through. I could not stand to see the pity in his eyes, so I'd instructed my father to bring me home.

Wilma crawled up onto my chest
, rubbing her fur against my tear-stained cheeks, trying to comfort me. I smoothed my hand down her back as she purred her pleasure. "You don't care that I'm a bald skeleton do you?" I murmured as she continued to purr loudly. "I saw our friend today. He looked amazing," I told her as she continued to rub against me like she totally understood what I was saying. "He's even more handsome than I remembered," I told her softly, knowing she was the only one I could confide in. She was still lying on top of me when I eventually fell asleep with thoughts of Nathan still running through my head on an endless loop.

I felt fractionally more human the next morning when I woke. I made a silent vow not to cry again. It was no use crying over spilt milk
. So he'd seen me at my worse. I would make damn sure the next time he saw me I would resemble the woman he remembered rather than the glimpse of the one he'd gotten at the hospital. I would be stronger and no longer sick the next time he saw me.

My father was fixing my breakfast when I joined him. He looked at me warily
, obviously trying gauge whether I was holding a grudge. "So, you told Nathan I was in the hospital," I stated.

"
Yes," he answered, setting a plate with pancakes in front of me.

"Is he this fishing buddy of yours
?" I asked as pieces of the puzzle came together. I remembered a conversation with Nathan where he told me his favorite pastimes were scuba diving and deep-sea fishing.

"
Yes," he answered, sitting across from me with his own plate.

"
Why didn't you tell me you were friends?" I asked, nibbling at my pancakes. I really wasn't hungry, but eating was the only thing that would help restore my body.

He sighed before answering.
"I wanted to, but you seemed so closed off to the subject."

"
How long has he been here?" I asked, acknowledging his comment with a small nod of my head.

"
Since October."

"
So he lives here now?" I asked, ignoring the fluttering in my heart.

"
Yes. Are you going to see him?" he asked nonchalantly.

"
No," I answered, leaving no room for argument as I forced myself to finish my breakfast.

We didn
't speak about Nathan for a long time after that. Christmas came and went and January bled into February. My body went into semi-remission and the doctors put me on a regimen of medication. They were once again optimistic. I decided against counting the days down to the five-year mark this time. Instead, I measured the days in increments as my body began to recover and my hair began to grow now that I was no longer having chemo treatments. I also joined a gym and slowly began to build my body back up. Ironically, my exercise of choice turned out to be running, which of course reminded me of Nathan every time I stepped on the treadmill. When I wasn't working out, I was interning at the local hospital in the psychiatric department while I waited to get into the master'
s program I had applied to. My days were full as I worked to keep busy, but no matter how busy I kept myself, thoughts of Nathan were always lurking just below the surface. As my body became stronger, I didn't shove them away, knowing that soon I would see him again. I knew that he doubted my feelings for him by things my father had let slip, but in the end, I would show him just what he meant to me. I would tell him I fought the battle for him.

I should have expected fate to jerk the carpet out from under me since I
seemed to be some kind of cosmic joke to it, but when it struck, I was completely unprepared. Ironically, it was me who opened the floodgates.

"
How's the fishing been going?" I asked my father casually over breakfast one morning at the end of February.

"
Good. Nathan can't go out as much as we'd like now that he's so busy," he said, not looking at me.

"
Busy?" I asked, parched for any information about him.

"
Yeah, he's been dating this girl he met over at the
News Journal
," he answered, looking unconcerned as he added eggs to my plate.

"
Dating?" I asked, not sure I had heard him right.

"
Yeah, I guess he finally got the hint that you had moved on."

"
Right," I said weakly, not looking up from my plate. I should have known if I continued to push him away he would eventually get sick of waiting. I wasn't even sure I could blame him. Our whole relationship was based on the one week we had shared. It suddenly seemed completely ridiculous that anyone would wait almost six months for someone they really didn't know that well. Chances were he'd discovered what he thought was love was really nothing more than lust during a stressful time. I finished my breakfast in an agony-filled haze before excusing myself from the table.

I didn't
cry as I slowly walked to my room, or when I began to get dressed or even when I pulled out his old navy blue t-shirt that I preferred to work out in.

"
You okay?" my dad asked as I headed for the front door a few minutes later in my running gear.

"
I'm fine," I lied. "I'm going to work out."

"
Gym or the beach?" he asked.

"
The beach. Why?" I asked, finally focusing on him.

"
I just worry when you're running on the beach. Do you have the Mace I bought you?"

I held up my keys so he could see the travel
-sized mace that was hooked to them, not mentioning the fact that I always left my keys in the car.

"
Be careful," he said, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek.

"I will."

My dad had suggested a different beach that he said was less crowded
. I was relieved to find the parking lot was relatively empty and silently thanked my father for showing me this particular spot a few weeks back. It was ideal for running since you didn't have to worry about maneuvering around sunbathers or watching out for small children who were prone to dart in front of you. The majority of the properties that lined this beach were privately owned which kept the beach population at an all-time low. Stowing my keys beneath the driver's seat, I used the keypad on the door to lock the car behind me.

I replayed my father
's words as I made my way down the steep staircase leading to the beach below. Away from prying eyes, I stood at the shore for a moment, watching the waves crashing against the shore. The knowledge that Nathan had moved on was crippling, and I fought against the urge to sink down on the sand and weep. Instead, I did the next best thing as far as I was concerned: I took off running down the beach. I pushed myself harder than I had ever before, sprinting along, trying to escape the haunting memories. Only when my vision was threatened by black spots did I finally allow myself to slow. Placing my hands on my knees, I gasped for air, fighting to keep down my breakfast. Once I was sure I wasn't going to die due to lack of air in my lungs, I stood up straight. I was astonished at the distance I had covered after glancing back the way I had just come. Impressive or not, it didn't stop the stitch that had developed in my side. I walked slowly back toward where I had started, watching the incoming waves on the sand. It was nice to have the beach completely to myself, especially since I was a sweaty mess. My short hair was plastered to my head and my clothes were drenched in sweat.

No sooner had that
thought entered my head that a lone runner appeared in the horizon. At least it was a fellow runner, who would most likely be so intent on finishing his or her own workout that the person wouldn't notice what I looked like. The gap between us narrowed and after a few minutes, I was able to make out his features. Stopping in the sand, I watched as his eyes widened with surprise when he recognized me and came to a halt.