Redemption

26 - War

Chapter 26 - War

"Well, no broken nose or concussion," Doctor Callahan tells me, clicking off the light he was just shining into my eyes to write something on his clipboard, his hand moving quickly across the page as he scribbles.

I've never liked hospitals. It smells too clean, too sanitized. It has to be one of my least favorite scents. I'm not sure how Caleb puts up with it almost every single day. It's unbearable.

I blink quickly, the glare from his light still fresh behind my closed eyelids.

"That's good," Caleb says from the chair. He knows Dr. Callahan, a tall man with a goatee, white speckles seen throughout his facial hair, someone Caleb sees quite regularly. They've went out to lunch over their breaks a couple of times, bonding over golf and doctor lingo. I remember Caleb bringing up his name.

"How'd this happen again?" Dr. Callahan asks, and I can hear an accusation in his tone, like he's suspicious of what brought me this injury.

My mind thinks back to Harry driving away, the sound of his tires against the snow, Caleb's lips pressed against my hair, his hands running over my face, trying to pull my fingers away so he could see the damage he inflicted. He pulled me up, my head against his chest, blood dripping down at our feet, a bright red trail behind us.

He kept apologizing, kept asking for me to let him see it. When I finally pulled my hand away, he squinted his eyes, trying to concentrate. He couldn't see anything through all the blood, declaring we should go to the hospital, that he could get us in and out without a hassle, the only taste in my mouth being metal, a taste that makes me gag. I didn't think I was going to make it without hurling out the window. It wasn't just the taste of the blood, it was the smell of it.

Caleb told me to put pressure on it, telling me he doesn't care if blood gets on his seat. I wanted to tell him that he shouldn't, even if I did. He was the one who hit me after all.

When he put the car in park and I unbuckled my seatbelt, he hesitated, staring at the entrance of the emergency room, deep in thought. I stopped, my hand hovering over the door handle.

"Can you do something for me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes still looking in front of him.

I dropped my hand, the other one still holding a napkin over my nose, a spare one he had, shifting my body to face him. "What is it?"

He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. I wanted to tell him to hurry the fuck up, that getting my nose checked out was more important than whatever he wanted to ask, that it could wait until later.

"Can you not tell them what happened? That I hit you?"

My eyebrows furrowed, confused by his question, lost on why he wouldn't want the doctor to know the truth. They would be able to help me more efficiently with the accurate information, but the look on his face, the pure fear in his eyes, it made me nod.

My eyes find Caleb, worried about Dr. Callahan's question, about his suspicion. I clear my throat, coming up with a lie on the spot. "We were walking to the car and I slipped, it all happened really quick. I might've rolled my ankle or something."

It doesn't sound believable to me, but Dr. Callahan doesn't push any further, just gives the both of us a look, his eyes lingering on Caleb before he sends us a smile, telling me that he will be sending a prescription to the pharmacy.

We drive home in silence, the radio doing all of the talking. Caleb's elbow propped on the window, my head leans against mine, my nose still throbbing, pulsating.