The Arrangement Anthology 1(97)
“As soon as I tuck you into your little bed and chase Amber away, you’re going to go to him. Am I right?” Marty gives me a look.
My gaze drops to my hands. I feel like crap. I’m exhausted in every way possible. My voice is weak and mousy, hardly audible. “I need to see him.”
“That guy has brought you nothing but trouble. I’m all for true love and fighting for what you believe in, but this isn’t love Avery. Don’t make me tell you what it is. You already know.” Marty’s grip tightens on the steering wheel. The car inches forward. A horn blares somewhere behind us.
“I have to see him,” I repeat. “I don’t expect you to understand, but after everything I’ve been through—I have to see him. I can’t believe he walked away from that, like I literally cannot believe it. I have to see for myself… and I need to ask him something.”
Marty is silent for a moment. He works his jaw while staring straight ahead. Suddenly, his eyes cut to the left and then back to the right. He mutters something that I can’t make out and edges the car into the far left lane. “Mel is going to kill me. I swear to God, if you tell her that I—”
I realize that he’s turning around, that Marty is going to take me back to the city so I can see Sean. “Thank you, Marty. Really, I—”
He shakes his head and gives me a firm look. “Don’t thank me. This is the worst possible thing I could do for you.” His eyes bore into me, which makes me squirm in my seat. There’s something there, some grievance or grief that I’m unaware of—something I don’t know. I want to ask why he’s so bent on keeping me away from Sean, but I know better than to ask.
The light changes and Marty does a U-turn and we’re out of gridlock, heading directly toward Sean’s hotel. I tell Marty where to go and then there’s a thick uncomfortable silence.
My finger flicks the leather on the door as I stare out the window. My mind keeps drifting back to the note in Sean’s pocket. He regrets everything. He wants to start over. In that moment, I feel the same way. I want to throw my arms around his neck and kiss him until I can’t breathe, but how can I —he left without me. Sean didn’t even make sure I was all right. He didn’t stick his head in and check on me. He did nothing. It looks like he doesn’t care about me at all.
I groan and rub my face with the heel of my hand. My head is pounding. I glance over at Marty. “You think I’m making a mistake, don’t you?”
Marty glances over at me before his eyes dart back to the road. “Don’t ask me questions that you already know the answer to,” he snaps. He’s so tense. It’s like he’s strangling the steering wheel as he drives. When we are approaching the hotel, he finally speaks. “I’m parking and walking up with you.”
“Marty—”
“It’s not optional. Besides, you look like you’re going to do a face-plant on the dashboard. I can’t let you wander in by yourself.” Marty pulls up in front of the hotel and gives his car to the valet.
When I step out, the guy that opened my door gives me a weird look. I have that train wreck thing going on. I haven’t even looked in a mirror. Who cares about mirrors at times like this? But still, it makes me feel self-conscious. Marty hands him a fist full of cash and takes my arm. I hold onto Marty. I am weak. The world starts to tilt to the side, but Marty steadies me and the feeling passes.
As we walk inside, Marty leans in and whispers in my ear, “You owe me so big for this, and I totally plan on redeeming this time.” His palm rubs the back of my hand and he grins at me.
My heart is pounding. My thoughts tangle tighter and tighter as the elevator approaches Sean’s floor. I try to swallow the lump in my throat, but it won’t move. Marty squeezes my hand tight and says, “You okay?”
I nod and smile at him. Worry pinches my face though, so the smile looks timid. The elevator doors open. I turn to Marty and ask, “Will you wait for me over here?”
“Avery, I don’t think you should see him alone. This is a really bad idea. The guy left—he left you in the hospital alone.” Marty is pleading with me, but I can’t bend to caution. I have to see for myself.
I pat his hands before saying, “Thank you,” and turning away. I walk slowly toward Sean’s door.
Every inch of my body aches. It doesn’t matter that I have a ton of pain killers in me. When my foot hits the floor, it feels like nails are being jammed into my joints. I lift my hand to knock, but hesitate.
What am I doing here? What is it that I want from this man? He’s messed up beyond comprehension, and for some reason I’m standing on his doorstep. My hand lingers by the door. Thinking swiftly, I decide that I just want to see Sean. I need to know that he’s alive. My knuckles wrap against the wood twice and then I drop my hand to my side.