I’m excited and nervous, all at the same time. Nick and Jenna are on their way to pick me up this morning. The sun hasn’t even cracked the sky yet. It’s surgery day. I want to get this over with, so I can plant two feet back on the ground. Thank god. I swear this surgery date took forever to get here.

The last few days have been a whirlwind of doctor appointments: I had to get a physical, blood draws, and more x-rays. I’ve seen my doctor more than Jenna has seen hers and she’s the one having a baby.

It’s been tough on them not having Kyle to help out with me and my shit. I’ve been an extra burden on them, even though I know they would deny that fact. Turnabout is fair play; they keep reminding me of how I helped when Nick was hurt and needed countless surgeries. You do what must be done when you love someone. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.

My mind keeps wondering back to those last few days with Kyle. He was supposed to take care of me tonight after this surgery. We talked about it several times, but of course, I can’t count on him now. He’s proven that he says one thing and does another. The man I want in my life doesn’t break promises. It’s really that simple. If you say you are going to do something, do it. No excuses.

He still looks tired at his games; even moreso than before. I guess the stress of classes, practices, and games is weighing on him. He still has a key to my condo. I’ve considered changing the lock several times, but something causes me to hesitate every time. One day, when I know he’s gone for sure, I’ll do it.

The nurse comes into the little room they assigned me before surgery to do a last minute mini-physical—mostly checking my vitals and making sure I’m good to go. She inserts an IV into my hand and throws the sheet covering my leg back and proceeds to write “this one” on the leg that needs the surgery.

“Is that necessary?” I ask, conveying a little concern.

“Hospital standard procedure now,” she responds. “Can’t have them opening up the wrong leg to remove hardware that isn’t there, now can we?”

The more I think about that, the more disturbing that thought actually is. It’s depressing almost. I lay here in silence and the loneliness comes creeping back in. I’ve been numb to everything these past few weeks—everything except the baby coming. That is the only event that brings a smile to my face.

Everything I see lately reminds me of what I’m missing in my life. I’m tired of feeling depressed. I don’t have a chemical imbalance; I’m simply disappointed in the road my life has taken with the recent turn of events. Better choices are out there, but I don’t seem to ever think of them when I need to. I should have said no to being his fuck buddy. I should have walked away the minute I started having feelings for him. I should have done a lot of things differently.

The new Aran starts the minute this surgery is over. My addiction to Kyle is over. My drug is gone. I’ll start rehabilitation on my ankle and him. A new mindset is coming, because I’m a damn good person, and I deserve to be happy.

The orderly comes in to move me to surgery waiting. Here we go. The door opens and I see Nick and Jenna standing there. They stretch out their hands to mine, squeezing them for moral support. Their ‘I love you’s’ echo off the neutral hospital walls as I take the first step toward the new me.

* * *

I am awake during the surgery, which only takes about thirty minutes. It’s really weird being in a surgery and hearing everything that’s going on. I think I’d prefer to be asleep, but at least I get to make sure they work on the correct leg.

Finally, I’m home and sitting in my bed. Between the surgery and the recovery time, I was only at the hospital for a few hours. Jenna stays with me, while Nick goes to fetch my prescriptions.

“I have some news for you,” she says, sitting down on the other side of the bed. She leans back and relaxes against the pillows.

“News?” I ask. “Okay. Share please.”

“We got here pretty early this morning to pick you up,” she states.

“Yeah, I know that,” I remind her.

“I swear I saw Kyle sitting in his car at the far end of the parking lot,” she confides. “He was gone by the time we came back out with you in tow.”

“What?” I shriek. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I wasn’t completely sure it was him. It was dark, and I was still a little groggy,” she says. “Nick didn’t want me to tell you. He says you’ve started to move on. Please don’t let on to him that I told you. I just don’t like to keep secrets.”

“But what does it mean?” I ask. “C’mon. Give me your tormented rocker soul advice.”

“Aran, don’t do this,” she begs.

“I just want to understand it. That’s all,” I grumble.

“Ugh. Maybe it’s not over. Or maybe he feels bad for leaving you hanging with this surgery. Maybe his sense of decency is haunting him,” she says. “I can’t begin to imagine what is going through his mind, but obviously something is bothering him. Let it go. Don’t analyze it. Move on. It’s his loss, and he knows it.”

She scoots off the bed and grabs the ice chest to refill it. She swings around to face me, pushes her hair back behind her shoulders, and says, “I know you believe in fate. We’ve talked about it a few times over the past two years. Just let it run its course. You can’t interfere with it or things might not turn out the way they are supposed to.” She winks at me and saunters off to the kitchen.

Nick returns with a take-out order of tacos from Cholita Linda’s. God, I have the best brother. I haven’t had this stuff since I left for Seattle. We all proceed to have a little picnic on my bed, talking and laughing at some of the baby names Nick has thrown out to us. “Nick, we are not naming our child Hailey Bailey,” Jenna growls, throwing her napkin at his chest.

“Hey, wait. These are all girl names. Are you having a girl and didn’t tell me?” I ask.

“Nick wants a girl, but we still don’t know the sex. I refuse to know. We get what we get,” she says.

“And I wanna get a girl. So, you better start focusing on all things girly, Mama,” he says.

“You guys are so cute. It doesn’t matter what you have. That child is going to be adorable,” I say. Right at that moment, Jenna grabs her belly and you can see her t-shirt moving. She lifts it up and her entire belly is rolling in waves. “Looks like someone is eavesdropping on our conversation.”

“Personally, I think it’s a boy. A linebacker, actually. My girl would never squirm, kick, or punch like this one does,” she howls, feeling some pain from all the movement.

“Obviously, you haven’t seen yourself on stage during a performance,” Nick teases her. She picks up a pillow and hurls it towards him.

Jenna admits to being uncomfortable now with the position of the baby, so they decide to take off after first checking that I have everything I need for the night. I pull out my Kindle and start to read a new book, but I just can’t get into it. Romance is the last thing on my mind right now. Netflix calls to me, so I watch the least romantic thing I can find—Collateral Damage with Arnold Schwarzenegger.

Something startles me awake at 2:00 AM. I half sit up in the bed, wiping the sleep from my eyes. The room is quiet and I notice that the ice chest is unhooked and missing from the floor. The TV is still on, showing that the movie has ended. Then I hear ice being dumped. That’s not the sound of the ice maker. I’m used to that noise and can block it out. This is someone dumping it and jostling it around in that little cooler. Nick wouldn’t come back in the middle of the night just to change the ice for my ankle.

It’s got to be Kyle. I lay there in silence, feigning sleep. The bedroom door pushes open quietly, and a shadow crosses over my face. There’s a slight tug on the wrapping on my leg as he re-connects the ice chest hose. Do I say his name or just let him go? I want to touch him so badly. God, I wish I could open one eye, but he’ll catch me. He reaches down and brushes a few stray hairs from my cheek. The heat from his fingers thrills me. I struggle to keep my eyelids from moving and regulate my breathing. I’m so excited he’s here.

After a few minutes, he walks out and I hear the front door close. I grab my crutches, stand, and disconnect the cooler hose. I hobble out to the living room and pull back the sheer curtains to view the parking lot. His back is facing me, shoulders slumped. He looks defeated getting into his car, but he doesn’t drive away. I watch him lower the front seat back and he leans back, like he’s resting. Is he sleeping in his car? What the fuck is going on?

I’m so confused. I go back to bed, re-connect the cooler, and turn off the TV. Lying there in the darkness, I try to figure out what’s going on and no reasonable explanation comes to mind except that he’s fulfilling his final duty to me. We always said his responsibility toward me was over after the surgery. I roll over onto my side and let the tears fall down my cheeks in torrents. Why can’t he just fix his shit and come back to me already?

A beam of sunlight streaks across my bed and directly into my eyes, telling me it’s time to get up. The only thought running through my mind is that Kyle came to take care of me in the middle of the night, confusing me more. I’m in limbo, and I hate that feeling. What happened to the strong, confident woman I used to be? It’s true, I guess. Love makes you weak and sometimes stupid.

We need to talk about us. We both need to say the things that are in our hearts and figure out if we are done or not. I’m brave enough to face him, but I won’t do it in public. I won’t humiliate us like that. Maybe he’ll come back to check on me tonight. No, he won’t come back tonight. They’re going to Oregon for a set of away games today. Shit, I forgot about that. He’s gone until Friday.