Artifice of Love

Chapter 3

Celine awoke to the sight of a pale ceiling and blinding lights. Cold air billowed down in icy drafts, cooling her burning forehead as beads of sweat dripped down her face. The rhythmic hum of machinery was the only sound that penetrated the silence of the room, giving her a feeling of hollowness and isolation.

She felt around her surroundings, fingers brushing against soft mattress and the thick strands of a woven blanket. Pushing back against the lumpy pillows that lay on the mattress, she struggled to sit up, ignoring the incessant drumming that was beating against her head.

Celine gasped as pain seared through her side, sharp and unyielding. Had she been stabbed? Confusion flooded her mind as memories flickered and died like the flame of a melting candle. Why was she here? What had happened?

That was when she noticed Elliot sitting on a chair beside her, leisurely flipping through a book.

Celine opened her mouth to speak but wasn't quite sure what to say.

"You've been out for two weeks," he said without looking up.

Two weeks? Celine looked around the room as her vision cleared. Three watercolor paintings of the ocean hung amid the creamy yellow walls and beside them, an analog clock ticked quietly above a vase of fake flowers. A large sliding door led into the bright endless hallways of the hospital.

She glanced down and found an IV drip attached to her arm.

"What happened?" she asked, trying to remember the events that had led her to this room. Her mind remained foggy like the mist above a haunted lake. Memories solidified themselves before melting away as quickly as they had come.

Elliot set his book down. "A food truck crashed into that jerk's car and almost flattened the two of you into nonexistence."

Panic filled her chest. So that was what had happened.

"Where's Ashton?" she asked. She had to know if he was okay. All of this was her fault. If he hadn't come to pick her up...

Elliot ignored her question. "Do you realize that you almost died? You have a broken arm, abdominal bleeding, and a mild concussion but that snake was left with nothing more than a scratch."

Celine was growing impatient. "What happened to Ashton? Is he okay?"
"You should be worrying about yourself," Elliot said. "You're the one with the most injuries."

Celine didn't appreciate the way he was speaking, as if he knew anything about her life. "Stop pretending to care about me."

"What makes you think I'm pretending to care?"

"What happened with Ashton was an accident," said Celine. "You leeching off me is not."

"So you're mad at me but not at a jerk you barely know for getting you into an accident?"

"He's not a jerk," Celine said, dragging herself out of the bed. She winced as a sharp pain pierced through her skull. It felt as if someone was ramming it with a hammer.

"Why do you hate me so much?" Elliot asked, looking at her accusingly. "I haven't done anything to you."

"I don't hate you," Celine said. "It just felt like the tighter Mom was holding onto you, the more she was letting me go." She shrugged. "I know she hates my dad and everything related to him, but I never thought she would shut me out like that."

"I don't think she meant to do that," Elliot said, settling back into his chair. "And she might hate your dad, but I know she doesn't hate you."

Celine shook her head. "She always put you over me. Like that time I wanted to go to Canada and you wanted to go to Hawaii; we went to Hawaii."