I hoped the answer was immediately.
I needed caffeine.
I’d consumed three cups of coffee earlier in the day, but I was still exhausted from the paltry four hours of sleep from the night before. Paltry and magnificent, as they were spent curled up next to and on top of Dan.
Yet, four hours was still four hours. I could’ve gone home and slept, but I was unwilling to leave the hospital. My unwillingness stemmed from a number of factors:
Janie had her baby earlier in the morning, just after Marie finally arrived at the hospital. A healthy baby boy, and they named him Desmond, after Quinn’s father and oldest brother. My hope was to see her and baby Desmond before I left, but I wasn’t holding my breath. She’d labored all night, so sleep took priority.
Presently, most of our group were assembled in Fiona’s room. It was larger than most—one of the two VIP suites—and provided ample space for us to sit and visit. Reluctance to end the impromptu gathering kept me from being the first to depart.
Dan and I hadn’t had a moment to talk. I didn’t want to leave until he was ready to go. Even if all we discussed was making plans to talk later when we weren’t so tired, at least we would have a plan.
I needed caffeine.
“Is anyone thirsty?” Stretching as I stood, I grabbed my empty soda can. “I’m going to go get another drink.”
Dan, who’d been sitting next to me on a little sofa, came to his feet. “I’ll help.”
I was relieved he’d offered to come along and I was about to thank him when Marie said, “No,” drawing both of our gazes to her.
She crossed to me, placed her arm through mine, and tugged me to the exit. “I’ll help.”
I glanced at Marie, lifting an eyebrow at her abrupt intervention, but she said nothing until we’d left the room and the door shut behind us.
Then, she spun on me. “Kat.”
“Yes?” I steadied myself, because Marie was wearing her take-no-prisoners journalist face, her blue eyes sharp and focused.
“Why are you wearing a wedding ring?”
Damn.
I tried to smile, but I knew it looked weird, so I gave up and sighed. “I had to.”
“You had to?” Marie glanced between the ring on my finger and me.
“I had to.”
Now she looked worried. “Did your family make you marry someone?”
“Yes. But it’s not like you think.” I was so tired, I was sure some of my words were slurred.
She gripped me by the shoulders, presumably to keep me from crumpling into a ball and falling immediately asleep on the floor. “What’s it like, then? And why didn’t you come to me for help? Or if not me, then Fiona? Or Sandra and Alex? Or—”
“I went to Dan for help.” I closed my eyes, force of habit making me pick my words carefully. “Dan helped me.”
Dan helped me.
But it had been more than that.
Help was letting someone borrow a ladder or a cup of sugar. What he’d done was save my life.
And now things between us were a mess. But also not a mess. They were wonderful and precarious. My current mental state consisted of being perplexed and elated and fearful. Each emotion was segmented into different yet related emotions, and all this emotion plus exhaustion added up to a Niagara Falls level of uncertainty and hope.
I needed to think. I needed to concentrate. And, for the life of me, I didn’t understand why I was being so circumspect with Marie.
Because your problems aren’t her problems.
“Dan?” She sounded worried and confused. “Helped you how?”
I opened my eyes, stalling any longer was pointless. “He married me.”
She blinked, her mouth falling open. It was several seconds before she managed to speak. “You and Dan are married? You’re married? To Dan?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” She dropped her hands from my shoulders and nodded, clearly thinking a million thoughts. “Will you tell me what happened?”
I hesitated.
“Let me rephrase that.” She gave me a hopeful smile, her stare softening, her expression beseeching. “Will you please, please, please allow me to help you?”
Sighing tiredly, I held up my empty soda can. “I will tell you everything on the way to the vending machine. And then you can decide if you want to help me.”
“Deal.” She looped her arm through mine again and we set off at a snail’s pace.
I told her a truncated version of the story, starting with Vegas and my avoidance of Dan and ending with our weird argument last night about gratitude.
Going back over everything with Marie felt cathartic in a way it hadn’t with my therapist. Dr. Kasai’s focus was my mental well-being, that’s why I paid her. She was an expert. I trusted her to give me solid advice.