Wrong Side Of The Bed

41 | you know i love a london boy.

But the worst possible incident happened at the T street crossing. A traffic jam that was miles long. Apparently there had been a truck and a taxi collision up ahead and the paramedics and the cops were cleaning it up. My hands were shaking. It had been so long already, and the traffic jam was making things even longer. I checked my phone — twenty more minutes by car. I took a deep breath, opened the door of the car and slid out. And after instructing the driver to arrive at the hospital after this traffic jam was over — I ran. I ran through the streets of New York in a red cocktail dress and a pair of Jimmy Choo Fira 100 black stilettos. I knew people were staring at me — and for the first time in my life, I couldn't care less. On the way, when my stiletto heel wobbled because of a pebble and I almost crashed onto the pavement, I knew I had no time for this — so I unclasped my heels, picked them up, and ran barefoot.

When I barged through the doors of the hospital, a few people turned to stare at me. I gasped in a breath before slipping my bare feet into the heels, and I instantly walked headfirst towards the receptionist, determined to do anything if needed. Would they even allow me to visit him? I wasn't immediate family, or his fucking fiancée. Would they even allow me? But then again I had cash, I could surely bribe them? Or maybe I could pretend to be his fiancée? But thankfully I didn't need to do anything, because Agatha was standing near the reception area, and when she saw my disheveled state — she didn't even think twice before she wrapped me in a hug. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I hugged her back.

"Where is he?" I asked as I pulled back, my eyes searching. "Is he okay?" I caught her hands and squeezed them gently, hoping I was being comforting enough. "Are you okay?"

"He is okay," Agatha replied, her smile relieved and I finally felt the tightness in my chest unravel, and if Agatha wasn't looking at me like that — I'd have honestly cried. "I am okay too, Jannat. Would you like to meet him?"

"Would I like to meet him?" I croaked out. "That's like asking me if I would like to wear heels, Agatha. The answer is a big, resounding yes."

Agatha led me down the hallways and we stopped in front of the door of a private room — and on the way, she told me about the accident. The car's brakes had failed but the driver hadn't had the foresight to honk before driving around the turn. Apparently Lucas had pushed Sinclair out of the way, who hit his head on the concrete sidewalk and got a concussion, a not-so-deep head laceration, and a badly sprained wrist. All his scans were clean. Lucas had taken the brunt of the accident and had ended up with a pretty badly broken leg, possible bone injuries on his right arm as well, head trauma, and multiple abrasions and lacerations. While he had been cleaned up as much as possible, and his head scans were all clean — he did have some internal bleeding.  He had been taken into the Operating Room half an hour ago — he couldn't be wheeled in as soon as he got into the Emergency Room because there was already a patient with a complex brain surgery in the OR. I made a mental note to ask Dad to grab a change of clothes because I was not going back home until I had seen Lucas being transferred out of the OR and to his private room — safe and sound. 

I steeled myself with a big breath before I pushed open the wooden door and walked inside the room.

Sinclair was there, on the bed, lying with a bandage wrapped around his head like a bandana, and his wrist all patched up. He was intently reading a magazine before I walked two steps further and he heard the click of my heels — and he instantly looked up, his eyes widening.

"Walter!" He yelled, relief flooding onto his face. "You're here, you don’t know ho—" He skidded to a stop. He sat up now, swinging his legs off of the bed. "Wait, what? Why are you in a red dress? Oh my God, was I in a coma? Is it prom already? No one told me—"

I ran to him and wrapped him in a hug. He stilled for a second before he wrapped his unharmed arm fully around my waist and pulled me closer to him. I stayed in his embrace, like that, for God knew how long before he finally spoke up.