Worthwhile Page 15

  “Fuck You,” the message said.

  His feet stopped moving. He blinked at his phone screen, sure he was reading it wrong. No, Olivia’s message gave him the big old middle finger.

  “What the…” he muttered.

  From three feet ahead of him, his mom stopped and turned. “Drew, what are you doing? We’re still eight gates away.”

  He started walking, still looking at his phone, and typed a row of question marks. Something didn’t make sense. He’d finally had sex with Olivia, taken her on a date, and now she was telling him to fuck off instead of wishing him and his mother well on their upcoming surgery.

  “You’re a cheating liar.” The next message came through.

  Once again he stopped walking and frowned at his phone. “Screw this.” He hit the button to dial her number, but she didn’t pick up.

  “Don’t call me.”

  He squeezed the phone in his hand and picked up his pace, passing his mother, feeling a sense of helpless rage come over him. For reasons he didn’t understand, Olivia thought he’d cheated on her. It didn’t make any sense. He hadn’t even…Oh…shit… Had someone seen him dancing at the club with that hot woman? But she knew his job. Surely she wouldn’t think anything of him dancing with a woman. Right?

  “Drew, is everything all right?” his mother asked, catching up to him and grabbing his arm.

  He looked down into her face, not really seeing her, instead reliving the lost night at the club. He’d woken up without a shirt. What else had happened? And how would Olivia know? “No, Mom. Everything is not all right.”

  Roughly seventy-two hours of medicated sleep later, the doctor on call came in and declared her fit to go home the next day. She didn’t feel fit enough for anything, but the thought of her own bed in her own home was a lure. Plus, her father had been taking off work to keep his vigil, and financially, she didn’t want to contribute to any hardships. If she was safe at home, he’d feel free to go to work tomorrow.

  The car ride was grueling. Every bump and touch of the brakes brought tears to her eyes from the swollen tenderness in her neck. She still didn’t have much voice, but the doctor felt confident she’d be hoarse but speaking by the end of the week, which was a relief.

  Finally, they pulled into her driveway, and she smiled at the Get Well balloons tied to the front door. Her parents treated her as if she were made of glass, as she carefully stepped out of the car and hobbled through the house to her bedroom. She settled herself onto the bed and, though she was exhausted, sleep didn’t come yet.

  It was strange, because her room felt like her room, but it no longer felt like hers. It was as if she’d moved out and was home visiting temporarily. She realized that she felt more at home in Drew’s apartment, not because of the apartment itself, but because it was where Drew resided.

  Guess this was what growing up felt like. Her parents were her anchor, but she’d finally let in enough slack to swim free. Someday, she’d unhook herself from them entirely and move out of the house.

  Whether it’d be in with Drew, she didn’t know, but she did know that she couldn’t allow her parents to make decisions for her anymore. She’d been caught in the act lying about her job, and while they were disappointed and scared for her, no one had died. They still loved her and they weren’t the type to disown her or shun her because she made a choice they didn’t agree with.

  What had been stopping her all these years when she’d let her parents dictate her every move? Why hadn’t she put her foot down and acted like an adult? Sleep started to drift across her body, but before she fully succumbed, she realized she had allowed her parents to run her life because the last time she’d taken control, she’d made terrible decisions,

  Her early high school years had been all about thinking she was a grown up and doing grown up things, especially when it came to sex. When she’d wanted to change course, she hadn’t seen another path, one of her own choosing. How easy it had been to veer back onto a path her parents had already plowed.

  It would be difficult, but as soon as she was physically recovered, she’d forge her own path. She didn’t know what it would look like. Career-wise, she might not return to the trauma room. Or if she did, it’d be for a full-time job and everyone in her family would know.

  A little while later, she awoke, and was ravenous. After hospital food, she wanted her mother’s caldo batido—soup for the sick—which she likely would’ve made for someone who couldn’t eat solid food.

  Sure enough when she exited her room, leaning heavily on the hallway walls, the aroma of her mother’s soup wafted into her senses. It reminded her that she’d been promising Drew’s mother she’d make her a batch one of these days.

  It also reminded her that it was slightly late for dinner, and Drew still hadn’t called. Javier still had her phone. She’d ask for it back now.

  “Ah, here she is,” her mom announced as she entered the main room where she saw her whole family including her grandfather, plus Javier sitting around the table, eating a roast chicken. Her mother jumped up and returned a minute later with a bowl of steaming soup.

  Olivia gratefully sat down on her abuelo’s right, already feeling better with the steam of the soup clinging to her face. Chatter surrounded her, but for once, there was no expectation to join the conversation. She could enjoy her soup with her own silence.

  It was interesting how when she knew she wasn’t going to participate in the conversation, she let the words swirl around her but didn’t concentrate on her own responses.

  Olivia looked down at her soup, scooped a little more into her spoon, and then let her spoon sink back into the broth. She pushed back from the table and gave her mother’s shoulder a squeeze, thanking her for the meal. “Phone,” she mouthed to Javier before leaving the table.

  He glanced at her brother and they both rose from the table.

  “What?” she mouthed. “Give me my phone,” she managed to rasp out.

  Her brother came to her side and took her arm. Something was up, and it had her panicking. She let him lead her back to her room with Javier following closely behind. When they got to her room, he pushed at her shoulders gently, indicating she should sit on her bed. She followed orders, now on edge to see where this was going.

  “I didn’t want to tell you tonight,” her brother said, “but you have the right to know.”

  God, she hated not having a speaking voice. She widened her eyes, trying to force him to tell her what was up. “What,” she mouthed.

  Gabriel looked at Javier, who came forward holding a phone, but it wasn’t hers.

  “The night you were hurt, Javier went to OCXA to tell Drew.”

  He had? That was nice of him.

  “But when he got there, Drew was…” Gabriel trailed off and gestured to Javier’s screen. She leaned forward, squinting, and immediately saw Drew at the center. He was shirtless and dancing with a woman. A gorgeous woman, and they weren’t exactly dancing. More like engaging in heavy sexual foreplay out in public.

  The woman rode Drew’s muscular thigh while his hand cupped her breast, and his lips were all over her neck. They danced like that for a while and then they left the dance floor holding hands, heading to where Olivia knew Drew’s office was located.

  “Stop.” She pushed at the phone and closed her eyes. It felt like she was getting choked all over again, because she couldn’t breathe.

  “Livvy, I’m sorry,” Gabriel said. “This timing sucks, but better you know he’s an asshole.”

  She shook her head with her eyes still squeezed shut even though tears managed to leak through. What was that expression about believing someone when they told you who they were? Drew had told her from day one that he was like his father, always seeking the next fun thing, never settling down. God, she was so stupid, because she’d ignored his history and let him into her heart. She’d given him her virginity, and stupidly she’d thought it made her special.

  She was an idiot. A broken-hearted idiot.


  Drew blinked, then winced. His whole body felt as if he’d been hit by a truck. True, he’d had surgery, so pain and exhaustion were to be expected. Other than breaking his arm in third grade, he’d never been in a hospital before as a patient. His mom was doing well also, but there’d been no word from his father who had the information, but hadn’t bothered to call. Instead, he’d sent a bunch of balloons. He guessed it counted for something.

  His father’s presence would’ve been nice though. What thirty-year-old man needed a bunch of balloons? Even better than the balloons would’ve been his girlfriend’s presence at his side. Not only was she a professionally trained nurse, she’d keep him company. He was getting bored out of his mind watching the shitty station options on the tiny hospital television. But no, Olivia wasn’t here, and according to her texts, she wasn’t showing up. Ever.

  He’d spent the last few days getting poked and prodded for testing to make sure he was still a good fit to be a donor. When he wasn’t being a human pincushion, he’d been texting Olivia and getting nowhere. Any time he tried to ask why she thought he’d cheated, she’d respond with something like you know, asshole.

  No. He didn’t know, but he suspected it had something to do with the missing few hours of his life that last night at OCXA. He wished he could remember what had happened. Finally yesterday, he’d given up. She was being a bitch over the phone and refusing to talk to him, and he had surgery to get through. When he was back in Miami, he’d confront her and then dump her. Life was too short to deal with drama like this. He’d thought he was falling in love with Olivia, but she was proving not to be worth it. His heart hurt at that thought.

  “One more time,” he muttered. “I’ll try calling her one more time.”

  He looked around not liking that he was alone in the room. With a groan, he reached his arm out and pressed the button for the nurses’ station. Within a minute, an African American nurse strolled in. “Hi, Shanelle,” he said.

  “That’s Nurse Shanelle to you, Mr. Weaver.”

  He grinned, used to her humor by now and feeling like she was an old friend thanks to her sharing every detail of her five kids’ lives. Her oldest son, Dante, was applying for college and her youngest had won some math award last week.

  “What do you need?” she asked.

  “Any chance you can bring me some Jell-O?” he asked. “Pretty please?” He grinned when she rolled her eyes at him, because he knew she was faking. She loved him. Women loved him. All except Olivia. He lost his grin.

  He was going to fortify himself with some sugared gelatin and call her. If she didn’t answer, or texted him more obscenities, he was giving up for now.

  “I’ll get you some,” Nurse Shanelle said. She disappeared and returned a few minutes later holding three plastic packs of purple, red and green Jell-O.

  “You’re a rock star.”

  She tucked the blankets around him gently. “Don’t I know it.” She nudged his cell phone out of reach. Take time off work,” she said. “The world won’t end because you’re not there.”

  “True,” he said, wincing as he sat up and peeled off the foil lid of the red Jell-O. “But it’s not work. It’s my girl.”

  “Girl trouble?” Shanelle took a load off in the visitor’s chair. “Tell Mama all about it.”

  Despite his worries, he found a smile. “I don’t know. That’s the problem. I thought things were great.” He started telling her his history with Olivia and how smart and kind and funny she was. “We finally…ahem.”

  “Did the dirty,” she said, making him actually blush.

  “Yeah, and then I took her on a great date, and then nothing. She texts me telling me I’m an asshole and to stop calling. She won’t take my calls and is ignoring my texts except when she tells me to eff off.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got a DBQ.”

  “A what?”

  “A drama bitch queen. She likes to be in the center. You had surgery, which means you’re the focus. She’s pulling it back to her. Lose her. Dump the crazy,” Nurse S advised.

  “But this isn’t like her at all. She’s the least drama bitchy queen woman I know,” he said, knowing the truth in his heart.

  “Then you need to talk to her. Face-to-face.”

  “Don’t I know it,” he said. “But I’m stuck here.”

  Shanelle rose. “Rest up. Doctor should give you the all clear, and tomorrow you’re out of here. Then you can go get your girl back.” she said, leaving him to sleep.

  He watched her leave, frowning. True, he’d be out of the hospital, but he had another week until the doctor gave his mother the all clear to fly. “Fuck,” he muttered and tossed the empty plastic cup into the trash bin.

  Olivia curled on her bed, fully enmeshed in her pity party. She was almost back to one hundred percent physically healthy. Emotionally? That was another story. Her phone was on the nightstand next to her, and she had it on the screen showing her call log. Drew’s last call had come in a few nights ago, and she’d ignored it. She hadn’t had a voice to talk, and she hadn’t been up to confronting him about what she’d seen him do on Javier’s video.

  It hurt that he’d let her go so easily. A real man would’ve come down to her. Maybe he was being kind? A little voice in her head said. He knew he was a secret from your parents.

  No, she told her internal hopeful voice. Silly, naïve fool. He’d cheated on her, if he’d ever even been faithful at all. Tears filled her eyes, and she hugged her pillow tightly to her chest and settled in for another afternoon of moping. She’d sent a text to Karen telling her she was sick and wouldn’t be in for work all week. No response from Drew’s mother either. Damn the whole family.

  Javier’s dark head poked through the doorway of her room.

  “Amor, let’s go,” he ordered.

  She frowned at him. “Where?” Her voice was still raspy.

  “Out. Anywhere. The pity party is over.”

  She tossed her pillow at him. He caught it and threw it back at her.

  “Your mom sent me in here,” he said, coming over to sit on the foot of her bed. “She’s worried you’re not healing right.”

  She curled her heels in and hugged her knees. “I’m fine.”

  “Yeah. Then why you in here crying all the time. Forget about your gringo boyfriend. He’s a loser. A puta. You can do better.”

  She swung her feet over the side of the bed and went looking for her shoes. “Like with you?” she asked, finding it deep inside herself to joke a little.

  “Yeah, like with me.” He voice was low and not joking at all.

  She glanced at him, then shook her head. “Javi, you’re like my brother, and it’s too soon. I really thought Drew was the one.” She started to say more, but he held up his hand.

  “Save your strength for talking later. Go brush your hair. And your teeth.”

  Half an hour later, they were strolling up the main street of South Miami. They were a block from Amy and Cat’s store, and she wouldn’t have picked this neighborhood if she’d been the one driving. But Javier had been behind the wheel.

  She swallowed the cold frozen yogurt, enjoying the way it felt going down her still tender throat. Next to her, Javier walked vigilantly, ready to catch her if she fell or ward off any dangers.

  They walked along silently, because she wasn’t in the mood to talk. Words felt as if they had to climb up and over the mountain that her hurt heart had become. Javier was right. She had to give up on Drew. His texts had protested his innocence, but photos don’t lie.

  He’d cheated on her while she’d needed him most. And he hadn’t even come to see her. What kind of asshole only sent text messages?

  “Olivia?”

  She froze mid-step, not wanting to turn around, because she recognized the voice of the woman who’d called her name.

  “Olivia, I know you hear me.”

  “Want me to get rid of her?” Javier whispered and wrapped his arm around her waist.

  “Nah. I’ll
handle it,” she muttered and turned, forcing a smile on her face.

  Cat was on the sidewalk, hands on her tiny hips, frowning from Olivia to Javier. “Nice,” she said sarcastically.

  Olivia lost her smile and frowned back at her. “What’s nice?” she said hoarsely.

  “Nice nurse you are, going out with another guy when the guy who thinks he’s your boyfriend is recovering from surgery?”

  “What did you say?” If she’d had full vocal capacity, it would’ve come out as a shout.

  “You heard me. Drew should be focused on caring for his mom and his own recovery, but instead he’s miserable and moping because of you, and you’re out with another guy.”

  She felt her eyes widen and took a menacing step toward Cat who didn’t back off one inch. If anything, she stood taller.

  “Drew cheated on me. I owe him nothing.” Then she stopped and frowned. “His recovery? What happened to him?”

  “He donated his kidney. You didn’t know?”

  She shook her head. “Is he all right?”

  “He’s down a kidney, but he and his mom are doing fine.”

  She covered her lips with her palm. “Oh my God. No wonder. I’ve been trying to contact Karen to check in, but she wasn’t responding. I thought she wasn’t talking to me because of Drew.”

  “No,” Cat said. “It’s hard to talk when you’re in a hospital bed. They get back from Baltimore tonight. Is it too much to hope you’ll be there? Or maybe you shouldn’t bother.” She turned after her last challenge and strode away, leaving Olivia staring after her feeling as if her whole world had been shaken and stirred.

  “You okay?” Javi asked, looking down at her.

  “Not really,” she admitted. “None of this makes sense. What did he say when you told him I was in the hospital?”

  Silence.

  “Javier,” she prompted.

  “You did tell him I was hurt, right?”

  “Olivia, he was practically having sex on the dance floor with another woman. He’s lucky I didn’t beat the shit out of him.”