Signed, Sealed, Delivered: Chapter 30
Age 25:
From: [email protected]
I’m by the bridge. Gray shirt and black shorts. Devilishly handsome. (I am happily taken, btw.)
Shiny
From: [email protected]
You good, Lily? We were supposed to meet up twenty minutes ago.
From: [email protected]
I’m getting worried. Are you okay? Seriously, if you got freaked out, it’s okay. I swear. Just let me know you’re safe.
From: [email protected]
I can’t even call 911 because I don’t know your real name or number or anything. Please, Lily. I have to know you’re safe.
***
I was beginning to get frantic. My heart was racing right along with my mind, and though it wasn’t an overly hot day, I had broken out in a full-body sweat.
Things happen. She was only thirty minutes late. Maybe there was traffic. Or maybe she’d forgotten. No, we’d only made these plans an hour ago. Maybe she’d fallen asleep. That felt like a very Lily thing to do.
In my gut, I knew that was wrong, though. Lily wasn’t surface level. Yes, she was silly and could be flighty sometimes, but she was like Calla. She cared a lot about people. She wouldn’t just not show up.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. When I pulled it out, the number on the screen wasn’t one I recognized. I didn’t know whether I should be relieved or more concerned. Maybe she’d somehow found my number?
“Hello?” I answered reluctantly.
“Is this Nathan Huxley?”
I was weary, one arm wrapped around my stomach, clutching it. “Yes?”
“This is Tyler with PFD. We have a woman here, Calla Wells. She was just admitted to Pennsylvania hospital. According to the insurance information brought in with her, it looks like the car she was driving yours. Were you aware of this?”
This felt like one of those monumental moments that would be etched into my brain forever. Calla Wells was just admitted would forever be tattooed on the part that holds memories. My racing heart instantly lurched, and I swore it stopped altogether.
Calla was in an accident?
“Is she okay?” The words rushed out so quickly I was practically yelling at the poor woman.
“We can’t provide medical information over the phone without her consent. Can you confirm that you did give her permission to drive your vehicle?”
“Is. She. Okay?”
I was already jogging to the front of the park, ready to wave down a cab and rush to the hospital.
“Sir, please calm down. I need to confirm this for the insurance company and the police before we continue.”
“Yes, she had permission. Now tell me how she is.”
“Sir, as I previously stated—”
I hung up. I didn’t have time for this. I had to see her. Had to hold her in my arms and know she was all right.
My heart raced like a drumbeat in my chest, a relentless rhythm of worry and urgency. Frustration tangled with anxiety as I tugged at my hair, a futile attempt to channel my restless energy. Clutching my phone in a white-knuckled grip, I willed my legs to move faster, each step a desperate push toward the promise of answers. The park around me was a blur of colors and sounds, a cacophony of life that I couldn’t fully register.
The thought of her hurt and vulnerable drove me forward like a man possessed. The knowledge that it was just a twenty-minute drive to the hospital taunted me, a cruel reminder of distance and circumstance. I didn’t care about the stares of the onlookers. Their gazes were like distant echoes as I flailed my arms, waving for a cab. The urgency of the moment overpowered any shred of self-consciousness, any lingering sense of decorum. The world shrank to a pinpoint, and all that mattered was reaching her side.
Finally, a cab screeched to a halt before me, its tires grating against the pavement. I practically lunged into the back seat, my voice raw as I shouted at the driver, a torrent of words laden with desperation and fear. “Pennsylvania Hospital! Go.”
She would be okay. She had to be. There was no other option. I lifted my eyes up to the cloudy skies above us. Small raindrops formed on the window to my right as I prayed that she would be okay. I just got her, God.
I’d just gotten to hear her say she loved me. I’d just gotten to kiss her unapologetically. It couldn’t be over so soon. We had to have more time.
As minutes stretched like endless miles, the car navigated the web of weekend traffic, each second an eternity of anticipation. When the cab finally pulled into the drop-off zone, I barely hesitated. Money exchanged hands in a flurry of desperation, bills passed over as if they held the very essence of my hope. I could have given him any amount, a twenty or a hundred—it didn’t matter. Time was my most precious currency now, and I was willing to spend it all to be by her side.
I ran through the main doors and slapped my palms against the front desk. “Calla Wells. She was in an accident. They called me.”
The older woman behind the desk raised her hands above the keyboard in front of her like a sloth. As if I hadn’t come in here like a bat out of hell, desperate to see the woman I loved.
“All right, honey. Give me just a minute. Ooh, this darn mouse. Needs new batteries. Hold on just a second—”
“Nathan?” a familiar voice called out to me.
I spun and found Layla standing halfway across the lobby. “Are you here to see Calla?”
I breathed a sigh of relief, even as the older woman was still rifling through her drawers for batteries.
“Yes. For the love of God, yes.”
She reached out and gave me a soft smile. “Come on, she’s in the ER.”
The ER? How bad was the wreck? What if her seat belt wasn’t on right? Was it an eighteen-wheeler? Was she texting? Was some other driver texting? I’d find them. I’d kill them.
I strode down a corridor that was at least a mile long to a red flashing sign that read Emergency Room.
“She’s in here. Second on the right.” She pointed to a double door where people in scrubs were rushing in and out. Were they rushing to see her?
I took off, pushing the swinging door so hard it bounced off the wall behind it.
Rows and rows of curtains blocked my view. Second on the right.
I was hyper-focused on the beige curtains. So much so that I almost missed the small sign outside one that said Wells.
I practically ripped the curtains off in desperation.
There, in a blue and pink hospital gown under a sea of blankets, was Calla. She was propped up in the bed with dried blood on her chin. Her eyes brimmed a soft pink, her under eyes a gray blue. She had been crying. Her pupils widened as she took me in.
“Baby,” I rasped out.
She was here. She was all right. I needed to touch her, to hold her and confirm what I was seeing.
Out of breath, I jumped to her side and hovered over her.
My hands instinctively ran through her hair. It was even more messy than usual. The tears at the corners of her eyes began to spill, breaking my heart all over again.
“Nathan.” She sniffed and dropped her eyes to her covered lap.
I slipped my hands to either side of her jaw, careful not to touch the small cut on her chin. Angling low, I planted my lips on hers. Her tears soaked my cheeks, but I couldn’t care. She was here with me. Nothing would happen to her now. I wouldn’t let it.
She tried to pull away, but I brought her back to me. I needed another minute. I needed all of her minutes from now on. She was never leaving my sight.
She sobbed, a pathetic little cry coming from her mouth against mine. “I wr-wrecked Bessie.”
I sniffed a laugh. “It’s okay, sweet girl.” I kissed the corner of her pink lips. “What did I tell you before, huh? It’s not the car I’m worried about.”
“But—but—” Her lips quivered.
I was dying to make them stop. I straightened a little and pulled her head into my chest, ignoring the way the bed’s railing dug into my stomach.
“Stop that now, all right? You’re safe. That’s all that matters.” I jerked my chin back to look down at her. “I love you. You gave me a heart attack. I assumed the worst. I almost punched the lady at the front desk. Why didn’t you call me?”
She sniffled, this time with a small smile on her face. Progress.
“I thought you’d be mad. I wasn’t ready to tell you. I called Layla. She and Luke just got here about ten minutes ago. She went to get water for me.”
“Baby, you ought to know me by now. You know I wouldn’t be mad—”
“Don’t say that just because you think you have to.”
“I’m not. I love you. A car is a car. It needed new rims anyway. Someone kept hitting curbs.” I winked down at her in hopes of lightening the mood.
The curtains behind my back were pulled, and a nurse with a clipboard came in.
“Oh, you must be Shiny! She was asking for you when she woke up. I’ll leave you two alone. Just hit the button on the bed if you need anything, sweetie.”
A sense of unreality swept over me, as if I had been transported to a different realm. The words that had just reached my ears seemed utterly implausible—so much so that I questioned the very fabric of my perception. Filled with doubt, I instinctively pivoted my gaze towards Calla, desperately seeking affirmation or refutation in her expression.
Every detail of her countenance seemed amplified in that charged instant. The hue of her cheeks intensified, resembling the vibrant scarlet of a freshly bloomed rose, and this flush of color extended downward, tracing an intricate path along her delicate neck. The convergence of emotions painted across her face was a spectacle in itself. Her eyes flickered with a mixture of astonishment, vulnerability, and a touch of embarrassment, while her lips seemed caught between forming words and maintaining their poised composure. It was as though her entire being had become a canvas, displaying an intricate blend of hues and shades that hinted at a profound inner turmoil.
“Calla?” I asked, unsure of what to say.
She sputtered, “That sounded bad, I know. I was going to explain tonight, but then this happened. I promise it’s not what you’re thinking. I’ve got this friend—”
“Did she say Shiny?”
She bit her bottom lip and nodded. “Um, yes.”
I pulled away from her. “Why did you need to borrow my car?”
My voice emerged as if from a parched desert, devoid of any discernible emotion. The tempest of thoughts raging within me made it impossible to decipher the intricate tapestry of feelings weaving through my consciousness. The puzzle pieces of this situation lay before me, their edges fitting together in a confounding fusion of contradictions.
As I allowed my gaze to ascend once more, my eyes captured a startling transformation in Calla. The vibrancy of her irises had surrendered to an expanse of widened orbs, mirroring an ocean of astonishment and doubt.
It was in this suspended moment that the dawn of understanding finally broke, casting its illuminating rays upon the obscured corners of reality. The threadbare fabric of disbelief gave way, unraveling to reveal an unexpected tapestry of truth. A shiver cascaded down my spine, as if a profound revelation had carved its path through my very being. And in that instant, it hit me—the truth suddenly became clear.
There was no way…
“Lily.” I meant it as a question, but my tone was certain as the name left my lips. Like my brain had made the decision for me.
“Shiny.” She mumbled it like she was testing it out.