Dear Rosie, (Love Letters #2)

I slowly roll my head away from the door so I can stare at theceiling.

A tear rolls down my temple.

This…

I close my eyes again.

This isn’t how today was supposed to go.

I wasn’t supposed to end up like this.

Hurt.

Alone.

With no one to help me. No one to rely on.

Another tear slips free.

They won’t let me leave by myself.

Said they can’t discharge me from the hospital unless I have someone to pick me up.

But I don’t have anyone to pick me up.

I just need an Uber. Or Presley can give me a ride when she gets back from retrieving her car.

I’ll crawl up my stairs if I have to.

It’s not like I can afford to stay in a hotel for weeks until my sprained ankle is better.

And I can’t afford to miss weeks of work either.

Another tear.

I wish Nathan was here.

I don’t like hospitals.

There’s a creak in the room, and I open my eyes again.

Maybe Presley fell asleep in the chair.

I turn my head toward the covered windows, where the pair of chairs are for visitors.

And one of them is occupied.

I try to narrow my eyes to see the person better.

They’re leaned forward, elbows on their knees.

“Nathan?” My question is quiet, like maybe I’m seeing things.

His head jerks up to look at me. And he’s close enough that I can see his eyes.

They’re red rimmed and full of pain.

His throat works, like he’s trying to talk, but he just ends up shaking his head.