Waiting

Chapter 9: Life Lessons

Chapter 9: Life Lessons

The woman watches him from the doorway of the bathroom, her expression only half sympathetic.

"I didn't think you had anything left in there," she comments as he heaves into the toilet bowl again, trying to ignore her presence. He feels dirty all over, contaminated by his actions in a way that might as well be tattooed onto his skin.

"You threw up a good four times last night," she adds. "It's why we had to move you into the bedroom."

He pulls back enough to slump against the wall, hugging his knees to him in a desperate attempt to comfort himself. It takes a moment for her words to sink in through his muddled brain.

"We?"

She rolls her eyes. "Okay, Uri, since you wouldn't let me anywhere near you."

For him, the sentence hangs in the air, but she seems perfectly at ease as she moves across the bathroom, retrieving a washcloth from a cabinet. "You know, you're lucky that bartender was looking out for you. If she hadn't called Zeke, you'd probably be on the street with hypothermia right now."

She gives a wry chuckle as she runs the washcloth under the faucet. "Or in some woman's bed, after doing something you'd regret forever."

"That's not what this is?" he croaks, unable to process what she's saying.

She stops with the washcloth halfway extended toward him, water dripping onto the floor. There's shock on her face, followed by an abrupt realization. "You have no idea where you are, do you? Or who I am?"

"No. Fucking. Clue."

She laughs. "Okay, well, if I'd known that, I would have handled this a little differently." She drops the washcloth onto his hand, where it's holding his knee against his chest, clearly deciding that he's never going to take it on his own. "I'm Marlene. Uriah's girlfriend."

The words don't quite sink in, and he continues to stare blankly as she adds, "We picked you up from the bar last night because Zeke couldn't get there, and we brought you here because it's where we were before he called. And because it was closer than Uri's apartment."

It's as if a switch flips in his brain, and the full meaning of what she's saying drops into him all at once. He didn't do anything. The relief is indescribable.

"Where...." He looks past her at the door as if expecting his friend to materialize. "Where's Uriah?"

"At work." She states it like it should be more than a little obvious. "Since it's a Wednesday." She glances at the clock on the wall, and his eyes move to it, too. It's almost eleven. "Don't worry – we found your work number in your phone and called in sick for you. And I don't have to get to my job until three o'clock today. So, I can help you get your hung-over ass back home."

For the first time since he woke up, he lets himself think about seeing Tris again. It's an enormously easier prospect now than it seemed ten minutes ago, but it's still utterly daunting.

"I'm not sure I'm welcome there." His voice is very quiet.

Marlene sighs, leaning against the sink as she evaluates him. "Lesson number one on living with someone...." She gives him a small smile. "When your partner freaks out over something minor and kicks you out, you go back the next day. Because once they've had a chance to calm down and think it through, they want to see you again."

She looks him in the eye. "I mean, think about it. You don't care what you fought over anymore, do you? You just want to see Tris again, right? What makes you think she feels any differently?"