inevitable

{Five}

Savanna

Just as I pull off the freeway, my phone rings. I press to answer on the hands-free mic, already knowing who's calling even though I didn't check. The Air Supply ringtone is our little inside joke because we're all out of love and so lost without each other.

"Hey, honey, I'm not going to make it to dinner tonight," I tease Jen like I usually do.

"Right, babe. I figured that out when you bolted as soon as the bell rang. What kind of work wife are you anyway?"

"The kind with a long drive home."

I turn into the hospital parking lot as I drop the little white lie to Jen. I do have a long drive home. I just don't mention the detour I'm making on the way.

"Ah, hon, that's why you need to let me pamper you with food and girl talk. So much better than driving in traffic, right?"

"Your cooking has never tempted me, Jen," I laugh. Her cooking has been a long running joke with the entire staff considering she regularly burns her lunch in the microwave. "Besides, I spent all of Friday night barhopping with you. That should fulfill my wifely obligations for at least a month."

I park the car just as I finish joking with Jen and start to gather my keys and bag full of papers to grade. But my response is met with silence for long enough that I hesitate to get out of the car right away.

"What?"

I hear Jen release a deep breath before answering. "Speaking of our girls' night out, I have a bone to pick with you."

Great. I had a feeling this chat was coming. Jen was not happy with my mood on Friday, or the fact I snuck away earlier than planned on Saturday morning.

"Pick away." I might as well rip the Band-Aid off. After all, I am about to head into a hospital.

"You haven't been yourself lately. I can't exactly put my finger on it, but if someone asked me to describe a zombie, you'd be the first thing that came to mind."

"Sheesh! Harsh, much? I haven't been that bad! I do put on makeup and brush my hair."

"True. You aren't tattered and torn. But you aren't exactly present either. Your mind has escaped your body and gone on some kind of vacay without you."

Jen has a point. My mind has wandered away, but not on any type of relaxing vacation. It's firmly planted in room 501 of Mercy Hospital and has been ever since I first laid eyes on Brax. Even his irritated interrogation on Saturday afternoon didn't serve to evict his presence from my thoughts.

Since the moment Brax sped by on his bike, the force of him caused a ripple in my world, in my very existence. I've been off-balance, wrapped up in questions about this mysterious stranger. Even now he's woken up and is making strides toward recovery, I feel a pull into his atmosphere, drawn to someone I don't even know. His angry regard as he stared me down in that hospital room left my nerves raw.

And yet there was a moment, so sudden and brief I'm not sure it truly happened, when he looked at me with something other than darkness. Something lit up inside of him so strong I could almost feel it. It was all I could do to keep my hand from reaching toward that light of what could only be described as hope.

But almost the instant it rose in his eyes, the veil fell back over it, gone. Brax's sharp edges made a rapid return, and I made a hasty exit. The only reason I'm going back now is because Denise insisted I show up. I'm nervous about which Brax I'll meet today, but the fact his dark side was the one that first greeted me, and the one that chased me out of the room, pretty much answers that question.