The Risk of Falling

Chapter Twenty: Cards Down, Walls Up

“My stomach’s sore,” he said, his voice as raspy as sandpaper. 

Since what little food he had was gone, his acids were probably not being too kind to his tummy. 

“I’ll get you something to eat, okay?” I said, brushing his hair back from his face. “I’ll be right back.”

“Don’t go,” he pleaded, grabbing my hand. 

I smiled and kissed the tip of his nose like he’d done to me before. It was the kind of kiss that disabled anyone from being able to say no to anything. “I’ll be quick, I promise.”

I jumped off the bed and headed into the kitchen, stretching my poor, screaming muscles. 

Most people would think of only one activity in bed that could cause that kind muscle discomfort but sadly, no, it wouldn’t be that in my case.

I made him some plain toast and heated up some chicken broth. 

Without complaint, he ate all of it and promptly fell back asleep. 

I couldn’t sleep anymore so I cleaned up and took a shower. I washed my underwear in the shower and dried it with the hair dryer, which let me tell you, gets the job done but not after you start losing feeling in your arm because it takes a while. I combed my hair down and let it air-dry into its natural waves. I borrowed another shirt from Luke and changed into it before collecting all the dirty towels and clothes. I located the laundry room and started a wash cycle.

With that done, I headed back to the kitchen and made a cup of coffee. It was about half-past seven then and I could see the open blue skies of the city from the breakfast bar where I sat with my feet tucked under me, sipping my coffee slowly and wondering why despite the kind of night I had, I was smiling. 

Then the home phone on the kitchen wall rang. I listened to Luke’s voice recording as the answering machine picked up, wondering if it was Peggy checking in on him since it was too damn early on a weekend morning, even for me, for it to be a social call.

“Hey Luke, it’s me, Elise.”

My blood ran cold.

The woman’s voice—deep, cultured and feminine—continued on pleasantly and with familiarity as if this was not the first time she was calling and leaving him a message. 

“I know you’ve been bugging me forever about it but there’s just been so many things going on that I couldn’t be sure so as soon as I knew, I thought I’d give you a call,” Elise said with a light, pretty laugh (yes, it was pretty). “I should be there in two weeks or so, depending on how soon I can wrap things up around here. It’ll be hectic when I get there but I’ll make sure we can get together and catch up. It’s been a long time since I’ve been back home so you’re going to have to get me back into the swing of things again. You can’t refuse, okay? I’ll call you closer to the date but ring me back. I’ve missed you and there’s so much we have to talk about. I have to go now though. Call me, okay? Bye!”

The call ended and the answering machine beeped and I still sat there, staring at it while trying not to bite my teeth through the ceramic cup.

Eventually, I felt the burn of the coffee on my mouth and tongue and I pulled the cup away. Suddenly, the coffee tasted horrible and I dumped it into the sink. 

No, it wasn’t the coffee.

It was the bitter taste of good old jealousy.

Whoever this Elise was, she was someone with a history with Luke, and from the sounds of that phone call, they still seemed to share the present and would most likely continue to share the future.