The Music Producer and the Teacher

Chapter 8: Now you get to watch him leave out the window...

The long hellish weekend was finally over. I had made sure to call into work last night from the hotel I stayed in. My principal was extremely understanding and gave me the next three days off to hopefully get a jump start on healing. I was a long way off from being able to relax though. A lot of aspects of my life were currently in shambles and I had no fucking clue how I was going to fix them. First thing is first, I know I needed to return to my apartment.

I checked out of the hotel around noontime. I went out to the car with my stuff, loaded it into the car and sat in the parking lot with it running. I pulled down the visor and examined my face in the small mirror. The swelling hadn't gone down much, but it was decreasing in size from the night before. I was still in extreme pain.

As I was staring at my damaged face I heard my phone ding. I looked down and was surprised to find a message from Marshall.

H: Babe, R U still mad at me?

Was I? I hadn't really stopped to think about that any since I had been awake today. Was I ever mad to begin with? I wasn't sure. I was beginning to think I was just drained and took it out on him. It didn't make it right, but I don't think saying I was mad was politically correct. Before I could say anything, I got another message.

H: Will U please answer me? I need to know UR ok

So, he was worried about me. I was just about to text him back when he called me. I decided I wasn't ready to have a full-on conversation yet. I was still feeling sorry for myself. I rejected the call, but I did answer his texts.

M: I'm fine. I'm just sore.

H: Where R U? Did you stay home?

M: No, I didn't

He didn't answer after that. I still felt the undeniable urge to push him away. He's already gotten so involved in something he really didn't need to be. I knew there was no way he could possibly still want to be with me. I was trying to get away before I had the chance to be hurt again.

After sitting in the same spot for what felt like hours, I decided I would stop by the hospital and check on Melissa before attempting to go home. When I finally got to her room I found her, once again, sleeping. There was a different, older nurse in the room today. "She was awake a little while ago." the nurse said to me. "She didn't have an easy time of trying to sleep. She was still in a lot of pain." I frowned at this thought. I related to her, because I too, had difficulty getting comfortable enough to sleep more than a few hours before waking myself up last night. I kept forgetting about my face in my sleep and laying on the sore side. Plus, the day's events also gave me a few nightmares. "I'll let you two have a little privacy." the nurse said to me again. I smiled at her as best as I could, and she left the room. Once I heard the door close I reached for Melissa's hand. Part of me really wished she would wake up because I really needed some of her advice. I needed to tell her what had happened yesterday. I could almost hear her fussing at me: "Are you stupid?! You know what you have in front of you is a good man! Get your ass on the phone and apologize to him! PRONTO!" I could feel tears welling up in my eyes again. Damn, I really missed her. I knew I needed to do something. But I wasn't sure if I could bring myself to face him. I squeezed her hand gently and felt her return it. I smiled my screwy smile and whispered to her "thank you, even though I know you didn't really do anything." The nurse came back into the door. She stood at the foot of Melissa's bed and asked me "Did she wake up for you?" "No," I replied, "but I think I got what I needed." The nurse smiled at me and I got up and left the room. I knew I needed to go home and try to patch things up with Marshall.