While You Were Gone: A Thought I Knew You Novella by Kate Moretti Read Free Book Online Page A

“good-bye,”and my eyelids drift shut of their own volition. I feel my head bob, and I think, although I can’t be sure, that Greg kisses my forehead. It might be my imagination. Or a dream. “ I’m glad you’re safe.” The whisper comes to me through that tunnel of half reality between sleeping and waking. Right before I fall off the deep cliff of sleep, I wonder if I’ll ever see him again. He has no reason to come back. I’m fine. I can’t lie: my heart cracks, just a little.

    When I wake up again, it’s dark out. The only light in the hospital room comes from above my head, a fluorescent thing that fritzes in and out. My mouth is dry and cottony, and my back aches from sleeping in a half-sitting position. When I move, pain sears up my midsection, and I touch my ribs tenderly. I inspect my sling, a Velcroed contraption that keeps my arm slightly elevated. When I wiggle my fingertips, pain shoots up my forearm and tingles all the way to my shoulder. My bow hand. I curl my fingertips to my thumb. Reflexively, my pinkie arcs up, like a Brit at a tea party, the imaginary bow poised mid-air by the dark-blue canvas sling.
    Only the forearm is casted, and I swing my arm in a slow arc, a low, deep G. I could do it. It would be possible. I couldn’t be quick. I would be heavy, clunky. I can hear Nikolai now: lighter touches, my dear. The whole idea was ridiculous. This break was a real break. No more nine a.m. rehearsal. No more Nikolai breathing down my neck, hit this note harder, longer, don’t play so much to spec. Take a small solo. Play as a team. Be a leader. Be a team player. I shift in my bed. My phone has been carefully placed on the nightstand, plugged in to the charger from my purse. I pick it up. No missed calls.
    “K-bear! Are you all right?” Pete is hanging in the doorway, lanky as a living clothes hanger.
    “Hi, Pete.”
    He lopes across the room in three long strides and folds himself into the brown pleather visitor’s chair. He scoots it back. It was positioned for Greg, and I remember the intimacy of my hand in his. I wish he were there in Pete’s place. I wish I hadn’t fallen asleep.
    “What happened?” Worry creases his forehead.
    “What time is it?” I ask, even though I could pick my phone up and look.
    “Seven-ish?” Pete grins, almost sheepishly. “I would have come sooner. I got home from racquetball, Mindy told me what happened, and I tried to rush right out, but the kids wanted my attention. You know how it is…” Even though I have no idea how it is, I take it as a personal slight. I think he says these things on purpose.
    “What time did the nurse call you?” I ask, dumbly feeling like maybe I should know the answer.
    He rubs his left eye. A face touch was always his biggest tell. “I think she left a message with Mindy around three-thirty?” He says this like he’s not sure. Even through the Percocet, I realize that four hours is quite a long time to know that your sister is in the hospital and not try to get there.
    “Didn’t Mindy call you right away?” I ask, incredulous.
    “Don’t start, please, Karen.” He gives me a warning look, and all I can think is, I’m in the hospital, and I’m not supposed to start? “Tell me what happened? Are you okay? What are your injuries?”
    “Two broken ribs, a broken forearm, and a fractured ankle. It could be a lot worse.”
    “But what happened ?” Pete asks. “I should have just stayed with you.”
    I shrug and don’t let him off the hook. I don’t say, “Don’t be silly. It would have happened anyway . ” He wants me to; I can tell. I let him hang there, suspended by his own guilt, and think, good.
    “I took a cab home. A car ran a red light,” I say, like these things happen. “A man saved my life, pulled me from the car after it caught on fire.”
    His eyes grow wide as saucers. “What man? It caught on fire?”
    “A man I met at Faraday’s.” A reminder that he should have stayed. This is how we