Page 112 of Solo

“I was worried about you,” he says, now adjusting the cotton blanket so that it covers my chest.

He’s taking care of me. Again. It’s that thought that brings it all crashing back to me. The awful fight. The way he left me on his porch. The police. Each memory hits me like a slap to the face, so that when he moves to put his soft palm to my cheek, I flinch away from his touch. An instant of confusion crosses his face, but then I see it all come flooding back to him as well.

He drops his eyes to my hand on the bed next to me, bruised around the site where they put the IV needle. When I follow his eyes, I see it. My bracelet has been returned to its rightful place on my wrist. It takes him a long moment, but he looks up finally and I can see it all in his eyes. His regret, his pain, his loneliness. But I can’t let his hurt be my priority. I know better, and look where it got me. I will never be so foolish again so long as I live. Never.

“Katherine,” he begins softly, “I don’t know what to say. ‘I’m sorry’ seems so inadequate. I was wrong. God help me, I was so, so wrong and I’d give anything to do it over again.”

I snort, as best I can in my present condition, but it only sends me into another coughing fit. He moves to pat my back but then he pulls away. Smart. The way I’m feeling I might just tear his arm off with my bare teeth. It takes a full minute before I can speak again.

“Yeah, I’d give anything to go back, too, Drew,” I rasp weakly, closing my eyes against the throbbing pain behind them. “I’d give anything to be able to turn back time so I could kick my own ass before I let my guard down. Before I let myself believe you could possibly be the one person in my life that I could finally count on.”

He reels back, as if a physical punch accompanies my words.

“Katherine, I—”

I hold up a trembling hand and he stops. “Please, Drew. Please just go. We don’t need to see one another again. Under the circumstances, I’m sure Dr. Morgan can arrange a substitute on my orals committee.”

Something I don’t recognize flashes across his features at the mention of Tessa Morgan’s name. He shakes his head firmly.

“No. No, no, no. That’s not how this ends,” he declares stubbornly.

His words make me smile faintly. “Oh, but it is, Dr. Markham,” I inform him bitterly.

“No. First of all, it was Tessa. She used you, Katherine. She used you to get the tenure position. She’s the one who called Kevin Kilpatrick. She figured it all out and gave that son of a bitch the story.”

I sit bolt upright and gasp at the burning sensation that fills my lungs.

“What? Are you kidding me?”

He shakes his head solemnly. “She found your bracelet in my car. I’d asked her where I could buy a nice coat for my mom and she suggested that place. That place in Charlotte where I bought your coat.”

“Oh, fuck! You didn’t!” I moan, pressing my palm to my forehead. Men! Stupid, clueless men! “Of course she recognized the scarf, you idiot!”

“I know, I know,” he groans in response, shaking his head with regret. “She started to put all the pieces together. She was jealous of you. Of us. And she thought that this would somehow get her what she wanted. When she realized I was never going to have feelings for her, she decided to settle for going after my tenure slot.”

“Holy crap,” I mutter more to myself, than to him. “That bitch. She started this mess for a little job security?”

He nods. “That and some unrequited affection she had for me,” he says, floating a shy smile. But I’m not biting this time.

I snort again.

“Poor Drew. All the girls want you. Oh, wait…all the girls but me, that is.”

He winces visibly.

“Please don’t say that.”

I shrug.

“Whatever. Just go. Go before we’re both splashed across the front page of the tabloids again. Go before you end your career. Go before you ruin my life any more than you already have.”

The supreme sadness that settles over him is unnerving. When he stands up, I realize he’s actually going to do it. He’s going to leave because I asked him to. But part of me hopes…what? I shake my head slightly as if it will thrust the ridiculous thoughts from my mind.

But Drew doesn’t leave. He inches closer to where I’m lying.

“Move over,” he says.

“What?”