My ankle is throbbing in time with my racing heart.

I know he’s gone again because the house is as silent as a tomb, even my normally busy street has gone quiet as if everything is holding its breath and waiting for me to get up and fucking do something instead of sitting here like a statue. But when I do straighten up, I spot his rental car still in my drive and slump back down again out of sight.

What the fuck is he doing?

My ankle throbs. It feels like there’s a hive of wasps in there, pissed off and buzzing angrily.

Adam is right, I need to go to the clinic. Dammit.

Swallowing against the throbbing, I sit up straight again. His car is still there, mysteriously left behind. It’s like he’s vanished into thin air.

How appropriate.

With a sharp hiss, I lower my ankle down off the couch and test it gingerly. The tiniest bit of pressure sends pain singing up my leg and I hiss again.

“Okay,” I say aloud to my empty house. “Now what the fuck?”

I can’t walk. I for sure can’t drive and even if I could, my car is still parked at the waterfront, abandoned along with my triathlon dreams. With an angry sigh, I fall back into my couch and stare accusingly at my ceiling like it owes me an answer. “I’m not calling a fucking ambulance,” I tell it grimly. “And there’s no way in hell I’m asking Adam.” I grimace. “Or my mother. So who does that leave?”

The ceiling is blank and sorely lacking in answers. I turn away in disgust and my eyes fall on the picture next to my couch. The one of me in the middle—how appropriate—with my two sisters posing like we’re all best friends. Which is funny, because aside from Adam, I don’t really have friends. I have sisters. I have classmates. I have co-workers....

Work.

Shit.

With a sudden pooling of ice water in my chest, I remember that I’m scheduled for a double tomorrow. There’s no fucking way I can do that, not on this ankle.

Fuck.

I glare at the ceiling one more time before I sigh and shift to fish my phone from my pocket and flick through my contacts.

“Hello?” Charlie’s bright, confused greeting tells me she has no idea who it is that’s calling her. She clearly doesn’t have my number programmed into her phone and I have no idea why that bothers me.

“Hi Charlie, it’s Reggi—Gina,” I tell her, nearly stumbling over my own nickname. Adam’s name for me has wormed its way into my brain.

“Hey there!” she says, far more warmly than I was expecting. “How was your race?”

I took a deep breath. “It was...okay...” gearing up to tell her about my ankle.

But she cut me off with a cheerful laugh. “You know, Jameson and I were there at the finish line cheering for you!’

“Uh...”

“I know, we totally missed you and I didn’t have your number programmed into my phone. I’m so sorry about that. Malcolm got stung by a bee and then pitched a fit about a balloon from one of the vendors.  We must have missed you in the chaos, I’m so sorry.”

“Um,” I repeated, utterly dumbstruck. “You were there?”

“We were late, of course,” Charlie sighed. “It’s impossible to get out of the house on time with children in tow, I swear. So yeah, we missed the starting gun, so we just made a right for the finish line so we could get our places early.”

“You really came,” I echoed.

“Of course we did!” Charlie declares emphatically. “You’ve been working your ass off! I’m so proud of you!”

I blink for a second and have to swallow several times before I can speak. “Thanks,” I exhale. “But I never finished.”

“What?”

“I wiped out,” I tell her through gritted teeth. “On the bike leg.”

“Oh Gina! Oh no!”

Charlie’s sympathy has the perverse effect of making me cry even harder. “It’s okay,” I tell her in a strangled whisper.

“Are you okay?” Charlie demands. “Did you get hurt?”

“My ankle. That’s why I was calling. I’m not going to be able to do my shift tomorrow. It’s too swollen.”

Charlie gasps. “Oh Jesus, have you been to the doctor?

“Well,” I hedge.

“Regina! You need to have it looked at! You might have broken something!”

“I’m okay.”

“Regina, please,” Charlie laughs. “You’re one of my best servers. If you end up going lame because of some badly healed injury, I’m completely fucked. Please, do me a favor and go get it looked at.”

“Okay.”

“Are you going to do it?’

“Yes.”

“No you aren’t.” Charlie’s kids are still tiny, but I can hear the mother in her voice. “You’re lying to me.”

“I’m not!” I protest, although I clearly am because how the hell am I going to get to the doctor?

“Regina.”

“What?”

“Do I need to come over there and drag you to the doctor’s myself?” I hear the jingling of car keys and her muffled voice calling out to someone that Mama will be back.

“Charlie, no. “You have kids.”

She laughs. “Oh, believe me, I am well aware. They’re driving me nuts today. I could use the break. How about that, Gina? Wanna give me an excuse to get out of here for a few hours? You’d be my best friend....”

My cheeks are on fire and I feel inexplicably shy. “Okay,” I finally relent. “Do you know where I live?”

“Sure do, down on Mill Street, right? Is the door open? I can help you get down the stairs.”

I glance at the door that Adam closed behind him. “Yeah, it is.”

“Cool. I’ll be over in about fifteen minutes, okay? Just let me peel these kids off me.”

“Charlie, hey wait,” I say, glancing out at the driveway. “My car’s not in my driveway. Uh, just in case you were looking for it.”

“Oh? Where’s your car?”

“Still down at the waterfront,” I sigh.

“Awesome!” Charlie trills. “That gives me even more time out of the house.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry, I’m calling my friend Bee from the bakery next door. If you don’t mind someone else driving your car, she can meet us.”

I blink. “I don’t mind.”

“Great!” She shouts a farewell and I hear her husband’s voice rumbling something that makes her giggle. “Okay,” she says, coming back on the line. “Your personal ambulance will be there real soon, okay? Just sit tight.”

“Okay,” I reply, utterly dumbfounded.