Behind The Scene

CHAPTER 37

Ross didn't return that night, or by the following morning, my only visitors being the police, Crystal and Charlie. I couldn't bring myself to speak to Charlie, knowing that it was him who'd inadvertently outed me to Ross, so feined sleep instead, hearing him shuffling around behind me before placing something on the table and leaving me with a few whispered kind words on the way out.
Being stuck in the hospital, unable to see or speak to him was torture. When I'd finally been reunited with my phone, I tried to call him... but there was no answer. Each hour went by agonisingly slowly without him, without any idea what or how he was doing.
The sun rose after a sleepless night, and I was quick to summon a doctor, unable to bear being confined to that bed any longer. The same stern man from before arrived, consulting my chart and scolding me for being too eager to discharge myself. Aside from some continuous aches and pains though, I felt physically fine, which was much better than my emotional state.
"I need to go home," I said impatiently.
"We would really rather you stayed another few hours, maybe the night," He replied curtly, crossing his arms and clipping his pen onto the front of his scrubs.
"But I'm fine."
I could see him fighting not to show his exasperation at my petulance.
"With all due respect Miss McCall, you are not fine. You are recovering from a head injury. There are possible complications with such injuries that don't always manifest immediately."
"I understand," I replied as calmly as I could manage, "But I still want to leave."
He sighed and shrugged his shoulders, holding out the clipboard and passing me his pen.
"If you wish to leave, I can't stop you, but as it is against medical advice, I'll need you to sign these forms."
I nodded in agreement, regretting it instantly as my head throbbed slightly and I felt suddenly dizzy.
"Are you okay?" He asked as I failed to grasp the pen, closing my eyes, waiting for the dizziness to subside.
"Yeah, just not wise to nod so much," I muttered, successfully gripping the pen and quickly scrawling my signature on the pages before he could revoke the chance of me leaving. "Okay, all done," I added with a flourish, thrusting the forms back at him and carefully moving to get up.
He went on to inform me of potential risks and enforce upon me the importance of going straight to a doctor should any symptoms arise that could indicate a complication. When he finally left me alone, I dressed as quickly as I dared and then left, my mind racing a mile a minute even in its delicate state.
When I arrived back home, I couldn't see Ross's car anywhere. Sure that he'd probably had more than a few to drink after the news last night, I wasn't surprised though and headed upstairs to our apartment, intent on talking to him properly. But as soon as I walked in, I knew in my bones that he wasn't there. It was too still, too quiet. I walked through to the bedroom, calling his name in case. But to no avail. I tried to call him but only reached his voicemail again. Hanging up, I took a seat at the kitchen table, wanting to be there to see him the moment that he walked through the door.
The minutes ticked on, turning to hours. The blue sky grew gradually darker, the sun sinking toward the horizon, and still, he didn't return. Tiredness began to set in from the combination of waiting and emotional and physical exhaustion, and I rested my head on my hand as it grew steadily heavier in the darkening room.
The sound of a key in the door was the first thing I registered, and I jolted awake, unable to even remember when my eyes had grown too heavy to keep open. I flicked on the light and faced the front door, holding my breath as it opened and Ross's face came into view. It was shocking to see how defeated he looked. His hair was messy, eyes still reddened and now bearing dark circles underneath. It didn't look like he'd slept a wink, and as they caught sight of me, he stilled, hand remaining on the door handle whilst he appeared at a loss of how to react.
"Hey," I breathed uneasily.
"Hi," He replied, coming inside and closing the door quietly behind him. "I thought you'd still be at the hospital," He added when he looked my way again.
"I discharged myself," I explained briefly.
"You have a head injury, you should have stayed there."
The fact that he still seemed to care filled me with hope.
"I needed to come home, I couldn't go any longer without seeing you, talking to you."
"Sounds about right," He muttered, sounding irritable, and extinguishing that ray of promise I'd just gotten back, "Not thinking of the consequences, just doing whatever you want."
He walked across the kitchen and I immediately followed.
"That's not fair," I called out.
"That's what's not fair?" He snapped back, turning on me as we reached the living room.
"I know I fucked up, and I'm sorry, I feel worse than you could ever imagine, and I deserve it, I know, but I can't fix this if you don't let me try... if you don't let me talk to you."
"Maybe that's the point," He shouted, "I don't want to talk."
He whirled around and marched into the bedroom, leaving me standing there staring after him in shock.
He can't mean that.
I hurried after him, stalling in the doorway as I watched him lifting a bag from the top of the closet.
"What are you doing?" I asked as he proceeded to throw it on the bed and begin pulling clothes from the wardrobe.
"I can't stay here," He said without looking at me, packing the clothes into the bag and grabbing more.
"You can't leave!"
He continued to pack, refusing to look at me as he spoke:
"Yes, I can... and I am."
"You're really going to leave me over a couple of mistakes and some dancing?"
He threw the clothes he was holding, down onto the bed and finally looked at me.
"That's really how you're going to play this? A couple of mistakes and some dancing? You think that's all this is about?" He bit back angrily.
I instantly regretted the wording I'd chosen, and opened my mouth to try and explain what I'd meant, but it was useless as he continued without a pause:
"I've been going over everything you told me all fucking night, Lena. And you know what I realised?" I shook my head and he went on: "I realised that I didn't care about the dancing, I could have gotten past that. But the lying, the fact that you were nearly fucking your boss whilst I was stuck in Boston, jumping through hoops every minute of every day, all in the hopes of being with you that much quicker, how you were willing to sleep with a man for a job... all of that just proves how little our relationship means to you. You've treated it as disposable, you pick it up and drop it whenever it suits you and what you want for your career, and I'm the gullible fucking idiot who never saw that, the afterthought that you only have to face when it doesn't go to plan."
"You think I don't feel guilty about all that?" I argued back, rushing at him and grabbing his hands, putting myself in his path hoping that he'd see just how genuine my regret was.
"That's just it, the guilt is because you made all these choices without caring. I doubt it was even our relationship that stopped you sleeping with that director guy."
"That's not true," I said quickly, hurt by his lack of faith in my feelings for him. "I never wanted to cheat on you. I felt trapped like it was my only way."
"Never wanted to... but you were going to," He said firmly, as though that only proved his point. "The knowledge that you'd be cheating on the person you claim to love, possibly destroying our entire relationship, should have been enough to stop you from even entertaining the idea for a second. But you not only entertained it, but you agreed to do it, you went there, you let him kiss you, touch you, no matter what you did after that, it's clear that it wasn't because of me, us, that you stopped him." He disentangled from my grasp, and stepped to the side to continue packing, "I can't look past that, I don't know if I'll ever be able to."
My arms fell to my side as I stared at him trying to keep from dissolving into tears again as my already broken heart crumbled even further at his declaration. He zipped up the bag and threw it over his shoulder, only lingering for a second.
"I'll stop by for the rest of my stuff soon," He said coldly, brushing past me and heading for the door.
Everything that I'd feared for months was happening, and I felt powerless to stop it. I couldn't handle it, he wasn't even out of the door and I was already unable to imagine my future without him.
'You never know what you've got until it's gone.' The saying couldn't have been more true, for at that moment, as I watched his back whilst he crossed the apartment, I saw everything that I'd shared with him over the years. All the joy, the arguments, the sad times... and yet all of the love, and the very idea of losing it forever was bringing my world tumbling down around me. All along I'd had the most important thing right in the palm of my hands, and I'd ruined it, thrown it away carelessly.
Refusing to give up that easily, I ran after him, stopping at the front door and slamming it shut as he reached it.
"You can't go," I cried, "I can't lose you."
"You already did," He replied sadly.
"No, I can put this right, I love you, I'll spend every minute of every day, proving it to you. I promise."
I didn't care that I was begging, that I looked desperate and pathetic. Because that's exactly what I felt like, and if it was what I had to do to earn a chance to prove myself, then I'd do whatever it took, regardless. He let out a sigh and shook his head.
"It's too late," He whispered.
"No, no it's not," I shook my head, refusing to accept it.
My vision blurred as the tears I'd fought to hold back, fell, and I dimly noticed his own eyes were glistening with them too. He reached around me and pulled open the door, gently moving me aside. He was about to step through it when he said one last thing:
"I hope that you get what you want in life, Lena."
As the door swung shut behind him, I crashed back against it, staring into the apartment which now, for the first time ever, felt far too large as I faced the reality of a future without him.