the accident

12:03 pm

small chapter!

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   "Mrs. Marino?" A nurse asks me.

    "Yeah," I say looking at her.

    "Mr. Ericsson is out of surgery,"

    "Really?" I ask. I'm hungry again, black spots contour my vision.

    "Yes," she's smiling nervously at me though. "Unfortunately you cannot visit him at the moment. In about an hour a nurse will come and get you, then you'll be able to see him."

    Dumbly I say, "So I can't see him now?"

    "That is correct," she smiles.

    "Why?" I wonder.

    "He's recovering from all the drugs we just gave him. He needs to rest up, and not be distracted by his...girlfriend," she says coldly. I knew she doesn't like me. "Blood-related family only or a significant other. But by marriage, obviously."

    "Thanks, I guess," I say slumping back down in my seat.

I'm so frustratedly hungry and tired of waiting. What if he doesn't want to see me after all that happened between us? What happens if he has a memory loss or something graver? He tried killing himself because of me. Why the hell would be want to see me ever again? I'm a horrible girlfriend...ex-girlfriend, I mean. God, I don't even know how to define our current relationship.

△ △ △

Our few last days together were magical. I didn't realize how committed he wanted to be to this relationship. I was completely and utterly oblivious. I smiled at all the little hints he used to give. I was unobservant, but he laid it out on the table for me. I just didn't realize.

    Miles and I were at the store. He needed aftershave or something because he was scruffy and it made him look slightly older. He was still very attractive, but in a way, I didn't really mind the prickles on his chin and cheeks. We walked holding hands towards Walmart.

    "It's so hot out," Miles said entering the store. "We should do something...like afterward,"

    "Yeah," I said looking up at the posters for a sign that said, Aftershave. "Like what though?" I asked. We were walking down the aisle.

    "Picnic?" He asked looking for the brand that he prefers.

    "Okay," I said. "We can pick up something."

    "Like Italian tukka?" He asked grabbing the right shave. He picked out Gillette, I liked that one the best because it makes his chin softer, and it made him smell really good.

    "From where?" I asked.

    "Anywhere," he replied re-grabbing my hand and walking towards the cashier.

    "I don't know," 

    "I know this place. It's like authentic, so it's like the closest to home...for you." He struggled to say his sentence, which softened up my heart a little. "Because I know that you're Italian, and your standards must be high,"

    "I get it," I told him. "It's fine ."

    "Okay," he said. His nervousness just reminded me of the first date. And I had no idea what made him so nervous.

***

    We went back home and brought this giant soft blanket for the picnic. We also brought cutlery and plates. I changed into a summer dress to be more comfortable. I hate wearing shorts because they reminded me of jeans. I put my hair up too.