Page 89 of Tap Left
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Lola murmurs. I want to wipe away the horror and pain on her face. I want to explain, but Stephanie decides that now is a good time for an icebreaker. She reaches out for Lola’s hand with a huge, toothy smile.
“You must be the girlfriend? Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of him.”
Lola doesn’t return the sentiment as she dodges around her and steps into the elevator. I call out to her. This isn’t how this should have gone down and what the fuck did I ever do to fate?
“It isn’t what you think.”
She shakes her head, and I don’t have to be a mind reader to know there’s no coming back for this. The doors are closing, and I was wrong. The last image I have of her won’t be her back, but her face. Her broken eyes and her resolve to exterminate me from every memory she’s ever had. She’s slipping away, and it would take a miracle for me to fix this.
It comes when the doors are mere inches apart, and her eyes swing to my wheelchair.
Guess the cat’s out of the bag.
40
Lola
Islammy hand between the doors, and they come to a halt, jarring back open. “Daire?”
He doesn’t respond.
I look at the blonde. And then the wheelchair again. Daire hasn’t moved. Where is his cane? I can’t find his cane? He always has his cane. So what is that chair doing here?
“Who are you?” I ask the blonde.
“Stephanie,” she answers. “I’m Mr. Daire’s nurse.”
Nurse?
My mind is reeling, and I can’t keep up with it. I need answers, and I need them now. I turn to Daire. “Get up.”
He stares back at me. Blank. Motionless.
My heart beats faster in my chest as I remember the conversation with Graziela. Her anger and accusations. She said they almost lost him. And I can’t believe I didn’t ask her what she meant.
“What happened?” I choke out. “What’s… where’s your cane?”
“A bad decision on my part,” Daire replies. “The usual.”
He’s trying to make light of this, and I can’t have that. I need to understand what’s going on. I turn to Stephanie.
“What’s wrong with him?”
She blinks and looks to Daire. “Stephanie,” he says. “I think you better go.”
“But they sent me—”
“You’ll get paid,” he assures her. “But your job here is done. Time to leave now.”
She looks crestfallen, but she doesn’t argue as she slips into the elevator and the building swallows her up. It’s just the two of us now, and Daire’s apartment is too quiet. I can’t find any signs of life, and I swear he hasn’t moved even an inch since I’ve been here.
“What happened?” I repeat.
“Come and sit with me,” he says.
My legs are numb, but I honor his request. I sit down on the sofa, but the silence lingers.
“Feel like some Chinese food?” he asks. “There’s a place down the street that delivers. The curry is out of this world.”
