Night By Night

Chapter 7

“Malcolm, what are you doing here?” Jennifer asked.

“May I please come inside?” He asked.

“If you are here about Adrian, please don’t. I don’t want to hear it,” she said, folding her arms and refusing to admit him inside.

“Just hear me out,” he pleaded.

Jennifer sat there looking at him until finally she moved and walked away. He followed her inside.

“Yes it is about Adrian, but it isn’t what you think. Yes he has been crazy lately, I’ve let him have my entire mind about letting you go, but he really does love you and right now, he needs you.”

“Malcolm, that is something for Adrian to say, not you. Is that all?” She asked.

“No it isn’t. Two days ago he was in an accident. He is at Memorial Hospital now and he is asking for you,” he added.

Jennifer stood there with her mouth agape. Eventually her ability to speak returned to her. “What happened? How is he?”

“He was in an accident and has suffered a few broken ribs. He got knocked down while crossing the street. He was unconscious until this morning.”

Jennifer walked away now, her hand over her heart as she tried to take in the seriousness of the situation. An internal battle began to rage instantly as she fought with her conscience and her emotions. On the one hand she wanted to go, because in her heart she loved him still. Enough time had not lapsed that her heart would forget. On the other hand, he was alright, and there was no need in going there. He had made his foolish decision to turn from her and she was not about to go running to him now. Imagine the pain that could be rehashed if she were ever to confront him again.

The battle raged on, while Malcolm waited anxiously, not willing to leave her just yet; she had a wild look about her eyes and he wasn’t sure what she was thinking or feeling. “Jen, are you alright?” He asked, moving closer so that he could aid her in sitting.

“Yes I am fine,” she said. “My thoughts are scrambled now.”

“Just take it easy alright? I understand what you are feeling, and you have no obligation to visit him. In fact, the visit need not be more than that, and if you don’t turn up then he has no one to blame for that but himself. It is I who had the obligation to him to give you the message. What you do with it is entirely up to you,” he said.

“Thanks for telling me Malcolm, but I am going to need a few moments alone.”

“I understand. Take care of yourself Jen,” he said as he rose. She accompanied him to the door and closed it behind her. She leaned against it now, unable to hold the tears back any longer. “What the hell is wrong with me? Why do I get so emotional when it has to do with him?” She screamed to the room. She pushed herself off the door and threw the towel she had in her hand against the sofa. She sat there for a considerably long time staring at the floor, her thoughts racing at one hundred miles an hour. What to do, what to do?

Finally she took a deep breath. There was only one thing to do. She had to go see him. She might exhume some of what she had been trying to bury, but it would be a lot worse if she didn’t go; it would eat her alive.

She checked the time and realised it was only four in the evening. She showered and dressed in casual clothing: jeans and sweater and slipped on her riding boots. She jogged down the steps and walked to the curb. She stood there contemplating her decision when she heard a honking. A cab driver was signalling to her and she waved back and walked swiftly across the street. She directed him to the hospital and sat there in the back, thinking about what she was going to say when she arrived.

The journey wasn’t a long one and in no time they arrived; transportation was never this swift when one is in a hurry. She paid the driver and hopped out. She stood there looking at the building, breathing deeply and then walking off. With each step she took, she was drawn closer to him and her heart pounded at the realisation. She could hardly catch her breath to tell the nurse who she was visiting. When she did, the nurse pointed her in the direction and she crawled off, trying to delay the inevitable meeting.

When she went inside, he was sleeping. She quietly closed the door and stood there looking at him. She eyed a chair in the corner and walked over to sit, having no intention whatsoever to awaken him. He lay there, oblivious to her presence, and she waited patiently for him, hoping her tongue would loosen by the time he awakened. She didn’t have to wait long for suddenly he stirred and turned to face her. In another second his eyes opened, and they instantly pulped when he saw her sitting there.

“How long have you been here?” he asked.

“Not long,” she replied.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“You are recovering. I thought I’d let you sleep,” she whispered.

He lay there looking at her as if he had lost his voice. Then, “I’m sorry Jen; I take back everything stupid that I’ve said to you. Will you come back to me?” he asked.

Jennifer didn’t answer. She stood up now and walked towards him. “How are you feeling?” she asked.

“The doctor says I will be out of here in a few more days. I broke two ribs on my right side and my arm has to be supported by a sling now. Tomorrow they are taking me to physio and after that they can assess how soon I can go home.”

“Okay. Glad to hear that everything is fine, but what were you doing?” she asked with genuine concern.

“I was thinking about you and not paying attention to where I was going,” he said.