Reach

Chapter Thirty Two- I Wish

"I'm sorry, I need to go home." Roy felt absolutely sick. It was a combination of the alcohol, overdose and guilt for Dahlia.

Beautiful girls needed to stop finding him during his most vulnerable moments.

"Unfortunately, Mr. Walker, the hospital is legally bound to keep you because you're a suicide risk."

"Suicide risk? This is ridiculous. You can't just hold me here against my will."

"Of course, sir, this is for your own good. We're here to help you get better."

"I don't need to get better."

He wanted to just walk out. To leave, spit in this doctor's face. He didn't even think the ambulance attendants grabbed his wheelchair, so he truly was stranded in the bed. Roy wanted to pull his hair out.

"It's quite alright to talk about what's made you so sad."

"It's not."

"It's a shame you're not cooperating. Surely we'd have you much more secured if you weren't...incapacitated."

"Incapacitated?"

"I'd say you're very lucky right now, Mr. Walker."

The doctor opened the door and Dahlia stood in front of him. She gave him the death stare and he quickly got out of her way.

"They're not gonna...put me in an asylum, are they?"

Dahlia sat at the edge of the bed. She squeezed Roy's hand. "Only if they want me in there with you." She was shaking. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I got ran over," Roy chuckled. He lay his head back, closing his eyes. "I'm so sorry about this."

"Dade's gonna kill you, Roy."

"Oh, God. He knows?"

"He was in the back of the ambulance with you."

"Shit..."

"You were a corpse back there."

"Where is he?"

"Making up some bullshit excuse to your parents why you won't be home the next few days so they don't think you left town again."

"I can't stay here anymore. No."

"Just play along with them, okay? I want you home too."

"You don't understand, Dahlia."

"Never ever pull some dumb shit like this again! Ever!" Dahlia began to cry. Cloudy mascara tears ran down her cheeks.

"Hey, at least we don't have work tomorrow."

"I'm staying here tonight. I'm not going home."

"I have a feeling I'm not going to be alone in this room much. Not if I'm a risk."

"I don't care," she sobbed.

"Dahlia, you're acting ridiculous."

"YOU'RE ACTING RIDICULOUS."

"I'm sorry..."

"Is this because of your accident?"

"What?"

"Or is it because of me?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Why you tried to kill yourself."

"Just stop talking," Roy said.

"No!"

"You're very tired. It's probably near midnight."

"You're tired too."

It's all I wanted. Just to go to sleep.

"I'm very hungover and nauseous, Dahlia. You're killing me."

"You didn't answer me."

Roy sighed. Dahlia slowly curled up next to Roy on the bed, her eyes fluttering between sobs.

"I suppose I was just tired."

And they fell asleep simultaneously.