Stranded by Lies

Who Forgets a Monday Night?

I wake up in my bed, but the side where Liam usually sleeps is cold. My eyes find the digital clock that sits across the room on my desk. 10:42 AM. Much later than I'd normally allow myself to sleep. I suppose the gash in my head warrants as an excuse. 

I do have memories of yesterday morning and afternoon. The ambulance responders dressed my wound and asked me questions about what I was doing on the side of the freeway. I didn't really have any answers, and my attention to their inquiries was only halfhearted. I was distracted by the strange man and his raptor-like behavior. He seemed like he was more interested in staring at me or observing me than driving. Not a comforting thought. I noticed his hair was a salty beach blond, just like mine. That in itself was enough to send my stomach plummeting into my pelvis. 

Thankfully they wrapped things up quickly, and I didn't have to be around that man for long.  They drove me to the hospital where I sat in the waiting room for 3 hours. The sirens of the ambulance were loud and invasive. Someone must have called Liam, who I enlisted as my emergency contact, because no less than 20 minutes after 11:00, when his lunch break begins, he showed up at the hospital to bring me home. He helped me into bed and I promptly crashed in this exact spot.  

I have a vague recollection of being woken up for dinner, but I don't think I ate the soup Liam left for me. He knows that soup is my favorite comfort food, but the medicine makes my stomach feel empty. Empty like my memories of Monday night. 

Who forgets a Monday night? It's not like I would have been drinking. I rarely have a beer, and at that, it's always with a meal. I can't stand the taste of alcohol by itself. It rubs my throat raw, like tires screeching on a freshly paved road. If I drink too much sometimes I see hives pop up on my skin. 

Monday afternoon I should have been working at my studio - I have a pretty big business streak going on right now. Several teenagers are having senior portraits done this August. Nonetheless, I'll have to cancel my working hours for the next few days until I recover. I'm sure Liam has already called my assistant, Margot, and told her everything she needs to know. He's the type of person who always seems to be completely prepared for any roadblocks coming his way - our way. I can count on him to keep my life afloat. 

Liamdidn't even ask me too many questions. He knows I get overwhelmedeasily when people ask me things, especially if I can't answer them.Not to mention the traumatic nature of the situation yesterday. Ofcourse he made sure I was, for the most part, okay, but after that heleft me to rest, knowing I would rather sleep than play a game of 20questions.

Isit up in bed to test the waters of the pain in my head. It stillsends a small wave of pain through my skull, almost like a migraine.It feels better than when I first woke up yesterday morning, however.Progress.

Istand up and slide my feet into my slippers that I always keep by mybed. Their cozy insides remind me of fluffy clouds. I grab the bowlof soup on the nightstand and carry it out of our room and nearbyinto the kitchen. Emptying the remains into the trash, I think aboutanything I could eat that might sound good. I still don't have muchof an appetite. I wonder how soon I can go off of those pain meds.

Thephone rings, and I answer it. A secret part of me hopes it might beFallon and her mother, although the rational part of me knows thereis no way they could have gotten this number. Just a freak accidentand a freak phone number.

"Hello?"I offer. No response. My brain kicks into overdrive and I becomeparanoid. No one is speaking on the other line.

"Isanyone there?" I demand a response. I think I can hear breathing onthe other line, and then a click. The line's been cut off.

Unfortunatelyour phone doesn't show caller identification. Just my luck.

Tomy surprise, the phone rings again, and I answer with frustration.

"Hello,who is this?" I exclaim, anger creeping into my voice.

"Dahlia?Gosh, you don't sound too peppy right now. It's me, Margot!"

"Margot,I'm so sorry!" I immediately feel remorse. Margot is one of thesweetest people I know – I doubt she's ever been yelled at in herentire life. "Thought you were someone else..."

"Nobiggie, just checking in on you! Liam called me, told me everything.That's super weird, that happening to you like that," among beingone of the sweetest people I know, she's also one of the chattiest,"Anyways I'm sure you're tired, but I was just calling to talkshop! I'm keeping things running at the studio for now, but I had tocancel all the appointments for today and tomorrow. Most peoplerescheduled for later in the week though. I assume you'll be back towork by Thursday, right?"

"Yeah,thanks for holding down the fort. I really appreciate it, Margot." She is hands down one of the best assistants I've ever had. 

"Noproblem," she chirps, "Hope you're feeling better! I'll call youagain tomorrow to double check on you again. Also, Evie wanted totalk to you about scheduling some wedding portraits for later on nextweek. She said she knows it's kind of last minute, but was hopingsince she's been a long time friend turned customer that you'doblige?"

Justat this moment, Liam walks in the front door. He smiles at me,obviously happy that I'm out of bed. 

"Yeah, of course. Hey, listen, I have to go, but thanks for checking in with me. Call me if something important comes up."

"Okay, I will! See you Thursday!"

"Bye," I turn to Liam, noticing his red hair falling in pieces across his forehead, contrasting nicely with the teal shirt he's sporting. For a split second, I can feel a giddy feeling flitting across my body. His presence never fails to make me happy and safe. I can't really imagine my life without him in the picture. That's how it's supposed to be. 

"Dahlia," he sings, "I'm glad to see you're out and about this morning," he kisses me and wraps me in for a gentle hug. My forehead is still tender to the touch, I notice, as he presses me into his chest. I push back a little. 

"Sorry, my head." I mumble.

"Don't worry, I'll be cautious." He kisses my bandage and looks me in the eyes. His are green. Mine are blue. 

"I'm glad I don't have to be alone right now." I whisper.