Spotlight

40

By the time I opened my eyes, the sun was down. I hadn't noticed that I had fallen asleep cuddled up in the small single bed of the hospital room. The small makeshift white blanket was covering my legs.

Tristan was absent from the room and it wasn't until I heard a flushing noise coming from the bathroom, that I knew where he was. He shuffled out of the bathroom stall in the same pair of black slacks that he had been in since I first visited him four days ago.

Every day recently, I had been finding myself in the same walls of the hospital, being the sole caregiver for him. Occasionally I left and travelled back to the apartment to catch Tate before he went to an audition.

It was now Thursday, and Tate had probably been catching onto where I was. A part of me didn't care. A part of me wanted to run to the nearest airport and catch the first flight back home to Miami. The thought of confrontation in the relationship had me scared. It's not that I was doing anything particularly wrong – but hanging out with an ex-boyfriend was not the best look.

When I noticed that the sky was dark outside, I realized that I had slept for a large proportion of the afternoon. I quickly got up and gathered the magazines I always brought to the hospital room but never read, and the overnight bag filled with a novel and rock and roll articles for Tristan to read.

I quickly swung the bag over my shoulder and turned in a quick rush to Tristan's startled face.

"Where are you going?" he asked. He obviously knew I was still in a relationship... didn't he?

"I have to get back to my apartment," I groaned, putting my boots back on to walk home, "It's late."

He took a moment to pull his phone from his pocket to check the time. The walk home was around twenty minutes, but there was no chance I was going to find an Uber at this hour. I had to start walking and the sooner the better.

"Do you want some money for a cab?" he asked, reaching to open the draw next to his hospital bed. I pushed out my hands in a motion to stop him, gesturing that I was fine.

"Same time tomorrow?" he asked. I hesitated before replying, wondering if what I was doing was wrong. It wasn't as if I was cheating, I was just visiting a friend who was sick.

I nodded after a moment of thought. No doubt I would be back here at the same time tomorrow. I didn't hug him or motion to touch him before I left because the guilt was eating me inside. On the way out of the room, I ran into the same girl from a few days ago, who was dressed in a purple sundress and her hair tied up in two identical pigtails. She made eye contact with me after moving back a few steps, and then continued to walk the opposite way down the hallway.

I trudged through the rain on the concrete on the way home – racking my brain for some sort of excuse.

I was out eating dinner with friends and we ran late.

I went to the movies and decided to walk home instead of catching a cab.

I shook my head.

I was out eating dinner with friends and we ran late.

Perfect.

I checked my phone before unlocking the door to my apartment, and noticed it was nearly nine thirty at night. I had managed to cut down three minutes on the walk home, by taking a few shortcuts and running down some side streets.

When I entered the apartment, Tate was leaning against the dishwasher facing the television. He had a small glass of red wine in his hand – which I knew was his favorite. I quickly put down my things and removed my coat, hanging it beside the doorway.

"Where were you?" he asked, sort of in a friendly tone. My heart skips a beat trying to remember the lie I had created on the walk home.

"I was out for dinner with a friend," I said, smiling. Although he didn't turn around, I knew he acknowledged my comment. He slowly moved over to the couch with his wine glass to watch the program on the Food Network. He kicked his feet up on the coffee table.

I couldn't remember when my boyfriend started feeling like my mother.

"I am just going to quickly jump in the shower," I quietly smiled from behind him.

"Okay!" he said in a happy tone. He once again did not bother to turn from the television and his wine glass.

*************************

When I exited the shower, I noticed the mirror was covered in the shower steam and that I had forgot to turn the fan on before showering. I wiped the mirror down with my towel and then proceeded to wrap it around my head to slowly dry my hair. I walked back into the main room of the apartment to see Tate sitting on the couch, his Apple computer on his lap.

I didn't take notice of what he was looking at, but I noticed he had turned the television off because it was getting late.

"What are you looking at?" I asked.

No reply.

I threw my clothes in the washing machine and made my way over to the back of the couch, where I knelt on my knees and wrapped my arms around his neck. I cuddled my face into his, and slowly kissed his ear. I noticed him scrolling through a feed on his laptop.

"Come to bed," I murmured in his ear. This is what I typically did when I was beyond tired. He nodded his head yet continued to scroll through the feed he was looking at. It caught my eye when he stopped on a photo of something that seemed familiar to my eye.

The photograph was of Tristan's hospital room, seeming as if someone had snuck a cellphone photo as they were walking past as the photo was bad quality. Tate stopped on the photo for long enough for me to read the caption above the image.

TRISTAN DAWSON AND MYSTERY GIRL SPOTTED IN HIS HOSPITAL ROOM.

The image was clearly taken from within the hospital as it was from the view of the doorway. It was hard to make out what was happening in the photo, but I could tell it was him and I sitting on his hospital bed. His arm was around me and I was resting my head on his shoulder. I looked to the look on Tate's face and thankfully, I don't think he knew it was me.

He closed his laptop in a quick movement that jolted my body. I made my way to my side of the bed and got comfortable under the thick sheets. Tate buzzed around the apartment and switched off the lights around the place.

He crawled into the bed behind me and wrapped his arms around me. I could feel him falling asleep behind me and I couldn't help but wonder what I was doing. I did not love Tate. As much as I could try and convince myself I knew that there was no going back. Tomorrow when I was going to visit Tristan that was it. I couldn't lie to my partner.

I couldn't lie to myself either.