A/N.: Thanks for the nice reviews and to my Beta. After the discoveries of the last chapter I'd like to mention: there are more secrets about being revealed
10.Fears – Are the impediment of trust
K.
I couldn't sleep during the whole night. What my husband had told me was running through my mind and I couldn't stop it from running. I feel bad. Somehow I have caused the situation. If I hadn't been drinking, Sandy probably never would have lost it. I'm the reason for them falling apart. The entity. There always had been a bond between the two of them, which I envied and then I've cut it. I don't know how to look into Ryan's eyes again. I feel so stupid about my speech the day before. I had no right for going postal on him.
I open the door and enter the room. It takes my breath. My chest feels tight. All I see is a nurse changing the sheets of an empty bed. She turns around and smiles at me. She's young.
"Hello, are you looking for someone?" She asks me. I'm taken aback by this scene. I expected a lot, but never this. This scene describes the worst scenario you can face: a hospital room and its former occupant gone.
"Uh…yeah…I wanted to visit the young man who's been in this room yesterday." I say.
"Oh, the doctor took him to surgery this morning. He's probably in recovery by now." She says smiling and then finishes her job. What is she smiling about? Ryan's in surgery and nobody told me.
"You can wait here if you like to." How far have we come that Ryan lied straight into my face? Pretending as if things were alright and then he didn't even tell me about this. There are cracks – deep and huge.
"Can I bring you something? Water or tea?" The nurse asks me after she's finished with the bed.
"Uh…a tea would be nice, thanks." I answer. She smiles at me again and then leaves me. I sit down in one of the chairs.
"Here we go." The nurse comes back and hands me a cup of peppermint tea.
"He'll be back soon." She adds in a warm manner that makes me nearly comfortable in this surrounding. Waiting. I hate waiting, because it makes you able to think – to think about things which went wrong in the past. I have a lot to think about.
I startle when the door opens and I hear male voices talking. I see the white back of a man, who's pulling a bed.
"Careful guys." He says.
"This guy is pretty much out of it. I doubt he notices anything." Another voice answers. With a start I jump up from the chair and clear my throat. They better know that someone is watching them.
"Who are you?" The man in a white gown asks me smugly.
"I'm the 'guy's' foster mother." I tell him.
"The guy is definitely too old for being protected by his mother."
"And you're too young for not be." A deep numb voice slurs. He hasn't changed in that aspect.
"Oh…how long are you awake?"
"Long enough that you should watch your ass when these drugs wear off, or hide at your mom's." He answers and sits up. I see that he's swaying. He must be drugged up badly.
"One moment, you better lie back down." The doctor says.
"After the dozen corners this guy hit, I'm certainly not going to allow him to lift me into the bed there." He supports his body with his arms, but winces. I can see that his right elbow is bandaged.
"Could you…please…turn around?" He asks me in an annoyed tone.
"Pardon?" I ask him. I don't understand his behaviour.
"This is already humiliating enough, so please don't make it any worse."
"Oh…okay." I turn around. I can feel the tension between us developing again. No, there was no change.
R.
I slowly slide down of the bed. My legs feel wobbly. I feel hands grabbing my upper arms. I don't like this kind of support, but I don't have any other choice. I doubt I could support my own with me legs. I slowly make it to the bed and already these few meters make me exhausted. Shit. This is all I can think of right now. I don't know how, but I manage to climb into the bed.
"Okay, if you need anything, you know how this works." The doctor says and leaves with the other guy. Kirsten turns around. I don't want her around right now. I only want to be alone.
"And why didn't you tell me?" She asks me. Anger is no description for what's radiating from her eyes right now. I close my eyes, trying to black out her annoyance she carries around when she's not getting hat she wants. I'm not up to one of her tirades. I still feel like a bunny on bad weed.
"You didn't see any need for telling me?" Definitely pissed off.
"Don't you think your behaviour is a little inappropriate?" I ask her back.
"I…thought, what about yesterday?"
"Do you really think that some nice words and a kind action can make me forget?" Can someone please knock some sense into this naive blond head?
"But…yesterday…I thought you…"
"I gave you what you wanted to make you realise that things have changed." I answer her. Did she really think I tell her and then she could go on like that? I'm tired of all of this.
K.
And how things have changed. The Ryan that I knew never would have talked to me like that and never had been inconstant.
"You can't do this to me. We…why don't we talk about this?" I ask him.
"Hell I'm tired, okay! They've been removing a tumour from my elbow a few minutes ago, I need to wrap my head around that I'll have to spend a couple of months in hospital and I don't have any plan for how I'm supposed to pay the bills for it and on top of that I have not the slightest clue of why I agreed on coming with you."
"You're tired and shaken up that's normal after surgery. As long as I'm here I'm not going to let you stay in a hospital longer than necessary, because you don't like them. You're still insured on our name and you're fucking afraid but haven't figured it out yet." I tell him the truth. This is the only way I can explain his mood sways. He's afraid to be alone in this situation and he's afraid of coming back. Of course he's aggressive. Everybody else would be. He's trapped. No matter which way he goes he has to face at least one of these fears: loneliness, or dealing with the conflict between him and Sandy on top of his condition. Former seems to be the easiest way. I'm talking about Ryan. Ryan doesn't do easy.
R.
Her words are echoing in my head. Where does she take the right from for talking to me like that? I don't like that. My head starts pounding and I feel as if my head and my body are wrapped into thick cotton. I can't follow her words. They don't make sense to me. I don't understand them. Why is she so sure she knows what she's talking about. She doesn't know. Or does she? How would she? I'm confused. I shake my head, lie on my side and close my easy. Cold chills run through me and I pull my knees a little closer up to me body. Something is hurting, but it's not my elbow and I'm not talking about my head.
K.
He curls together. I can see his uneasiness and agony is written all over his face. The back of his hand – the spot they've tortured him with a needle – his black and blue. The colours strike out expressively as his skin is pale as the sheets.
"It's awful if someone who had hurt you that badly can still mess up with your feelings, and still knows what's going on inside, although you try to hide it so well." I say to him and rub his back. He shifts away from my touch. I sigh.
R.
"You know, that way we're not getting anywhere." She says. As if I want to go anywhere. I…don't know what I want. I don't want to see them again, but I don't want to be alone either. Usually, I don't care. I'm used to be alone, but not…now. I…hate the feeling that there's actually nobody who cares, and the only persons who care I can't trust, because I doubt that the caring has something to do with me rather than with their bad conscience.
"Hell Ryan, don't do this to yourself. You don't have the strength to do all of this on your own. You are already tired and it'll get worse. Let me help you. I know you don't want me to right now and I can understand you, but…please Ryan. This is not for me, but for you. Why can't you understand that you'll need the help?"
"Because you're making me a cripple and I don't…want to be the bad conscience-reliever only to make you sleep peaceful at night." I snarl back. I want to be alone now. I can't really say that I feel well and when I don't feel well I don't want to have company. I don't need an audience watching me how I sick I feel, and I absolutely don't have the strength to brace myself and pretend as if I was okay.
"That's not true Ryan, but indeed I've witnessed what this has done to my Mom and thinking about you being alone, doesn't seem right to me – not you. Not after all you have given up for us…why can't you accept the fact that, although we've made some mistakes, you still mean something to us? Believe me Ryan, it's true. I can't imagine how bad we've hurt you. I can only guess it must have been awful. But I wouldn't talk to you like that over and over again, if I didn't mean it."
K.
"I can't do this Kirsten. Not…now." He answers me. I can hear exhaustion in his voice and I feel bad for putting him under this pressure, especially after my husband told me last night, but I can't let him off the hook. Not after I heard what was done to him.
"You don't have to…step by step…small steps…as slow as you think it's good for you. Because this is what it's all about. It's you. You don't have to trust me and you don't have to pick up our relationship from where it ended. Only let me help you with this. You can leave when this is over without having a bad conscience, because I know what we've done to you was awful. Just let me help." I try to explain him that I don't expect anything from him. I only want to be allowed to be there for him.
R.
"Help? You mean paying hospital bills while I stay month after month in hospital. Great." There it is: take the money and stay away from us. That's not what I need right now. Why didn't I stay in Boston? I should've stayed there. I could've been able to determine my life on my own and not getting determined.
"No Ryan, I'll take you out of here, home." It's getting even better. As if I feel the urge to enter this building once again. Not after what has happened in there. This house is nothing more but pure horror.
"Oh no." I only answer to make my point clear. I'm not going there again. Never. No matter what happens.
"Well, as…I know that things between you and Sandy aren't alright…I thought about a house in nearby, at the beach. Actually it's my Dad's house, but he offered me to bring you there. I can stay there and help, if you need me to and you don't have to face Sandy."
"And Sandy won't wonder where you are all the time?" I don't buy this. It's too easy as if this could work. Well, part of me doesn't want it to work. This part is only waiting for one more failure, for another proof that things haven't changed that what Kirsten and Sandy did weren't just the destiny of the circumstances, but the reality.
K.
"Ryan, you don't need to have a master plan for everything. The only thing that should be important to you now, is your health. Let me take care of the rest." I sooth him. He needs control. He's too afraid of things spinning uncontrolled that he doesn't trust anyone but himself. He has all right to. He has witnessed too often what happens if things get uncontrolled and as result he was hurt way too often, as if he could throw these experiences away.
R.
Let her take care of the rest? I'm not sure whether I can do that. I don't even know what all this is supposed to mean. I'm…confused in some way, I just don't seem to get the point and that's annoying.
K.
"C'mon Ryan, there's a hell of a trip lying ahead from you." Maybe if he realises that this is not being handled alone, he might see the need for me helping him.
R.
"This trip has already started." I remind her. I crawl a little deeper under the blanket in the hope that the chills leave and she realises that I'm in no mood for talking and forgiving. It's not that I don't want to…I'm just not capable of.