Violet

Chapter 15 - Deathly Dinner

-May 26, 7:49pm-

                 I brushed the lipstick against my lips, dyeing them a luscious red. Admiring my figure in the mirror, I slipped on a purple, velvety dress, the lacy sleeves spiralling around my arms. At this point I had already spent around 2 hours getting ready for whatever Max had planned. My sky-blue hair was tied up in a fishtail-style bun, something I'd never tried or thought of before. He had said to dress up.
                  Speaking of the devil, as I placed a final coat of mascara on my eyelashes, his warm arms pulled me in and his lips were on my neck.
I laughed, "I thought the sex came after the date?"
He just smiled and said, "You look beautiful."
I smiled back. Grinned. "Well, I'll look even better when you wait 5 minutes and let me finish 'dressing up'!"
"Alright, alright!", he laughed as he stepped out of the room and walked down the stairs.
                 Giggling, I stuck glass beads to my ears and slipped on a pair of black, satin flats. Collecting my purse and everything inside it, I followed him downstairs.
"Ready?" He smiled.
"Ready", I replied.
                 I walked down the steps towards the front gate. After unlocking it, I climbed inside the passengers seat of the black Range Rover. Max locked the front door, got into the seat next to mine, and we drove away into the start of an evening I would never forget.
I sat at a private table in one of the most beautiful restaurants in town. Very expensive, might I add. The table was decorated with gold candles, like the ones you'd see in an old Disney movie, like Beauty and the Beast. Rose petals clung onto the rim of the table. The restaurant itself made me feel like I was a Disney princess in that moment. Everywhere I looked I could just see how much money went into making this place... and how well spent, too.
Max sat opposite me and gave me one of his 'do-you-like-it?' smiles. I gave him my warmest smile of approval in return. As he tucked himself into the table with his chair, I scanned through the menu, gazing in momentary awe, picturing every single dish in my mouth. Then I saw the prices and the thought vanished. After what felt like hours of decision making, I went with salmon. £248. Max ordered himself steak with something or other. You're not gonna believe this. £680. SIX. HUNDRED. AND EIGHTY. FUCKING. POUNDS. Ahem. Sorry. Anyway.
Time flew by. We'd talked and laughed about things that have happened at work, or memories from the past. It felt... nice. Quite calming, actually. At this point I had almost finished my Chocolate Gateau, oozing with chocolate sauce, white cream drizzled over it. The price will not be discussed. But it was at this point at the night... when everything was almost perfect... when I took that final bite of dessert... that Max got a phone call. He held out his phone and looked frazzled for a second as he scanned over the number.
"Who is it?" I asked.
"I don't know... I think it's... the hospital?" There was a tone in his voice that made me think that he didn't want to answer it.
Despite that, I gave him a reassuring smile and held his hand. "Well... that's good, right? They must be calling to say when she can get out."
He paused. "Yeah. You're probably right. Excuse me, for a moment." He smiled as he got up from his chair and disappeared to a quiet corner of the room. That was it. That was when I took my last bite.
When he came back, I couldn't read his face, but his eyes told me what he had heard on the phone was the opposite of good news. He picked up his folded jacket of the chair and put it on.
"Where are you going?" I asked, my eyebrows furrowed as I watched him.
"We have to go to the hospital. Now." He barely looked at me as I pulled myself onto my feet and followed him out.
As we got into the car I looked at him. He hadn't started driving yet. I reached out for his hand but suddenly hesitated. His eyes were wild with fear. I decided instead to confront him.
"What happened? What did the doctors say? Is everything okay?" I stared at him, taking in his husky breathing, his teary eyes, his body language. He finally looked at me.
"It's Zoe. They... They said she's in critical condition. A..Apparently she hasn't been eating anything that they've been giving her. She has to be put to sleep or she won't sleep at all. S..She wont talk to anyone that goes in her room and... and she won't say that she's hurting a-and... apparently she swallowed a bunch of pills and..." the tears were real now. Racing down his cheeks.
"What... What are you saying.?" I wiped his tears away gently, hoping to comfort him. I was just as scared though.
"They think this... this might be her last night. Oh God, Vee. They said they might not be able to help her." He took a shaking deep breath before he could continue. "..She's dying."

Max dropped me back at the house. I told him I'd go with him. I didn't want him to be alone through this. He insisted that it would be better if he went alone and that Zoe didn't want anyone else there or something. I sunk myself into the sofa and sighed as I flicked through the channels. I tried to pretend that nothing bad was happening and everything was fine, but my anxiety got the best of me.
I sat through 3 hours of Catfish: The TV Show, repeated episodes that I'd already seen a thousand times. Whenever the adverts came on I'd send Max a text:

'How's Zoe doing? Feeling so worried... give her my best x'

'Max? You've been gone a long time... is Zoe okay? X'

'Max? X'

'Max, I'm going to bed soon... should I lock the door? Do you have keys into the house? X'

'Hope everything's okay down there... I love you. I'm here for you and Zoe. Xx'

It was officially May 27th about an hour go at the time. 12:56am. I wanted to wait up for Max but I had no way of knowing what time he'd be back. Instead, I drifted off on the sofa into a sad, unsound slumber.

To be continued...