Chapter 13
Morgan
When I get back to my room I plug in my cell to charge. Before I left Nate’s, I texted Alex to see if he was up. He hasn’t responded yet.
He might not have his sound on, or feel like texting since he only has one working arm, so I decide to go ahead and call.
It rings and rings, but he never answers. I don’t really want to do this, but I pick up the phone and dial Agnes on the off chance she’s with him. Last time we spoke, he was doing better and they were figuring out how to take care of him at home.
“Hello?” she answers on the second ring.
“Hey, Mrs. Sanford. It’s Morgan, I was just—”
“Oh! Morgan! Thank goodness. I was just about to call your momma.” Her voice is a little high-pitched. Something’s going on.
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“The infection is back. His fever is so high. They don’t … they don’t know if they can save his arm. They’re afraid of sepsis setting in.”
“What?!” I shout. “It was just a broken arm. Kids get them all the time. How? How did this happen?”
Really, I already know how. He’s in Nowhere, Kentucky, in a second-rate hospital, with doctors stuck there for residencies that will be gone the first moment they can find something better.
“Well, now calm yourself Morgan. He didn’t do well with the first round of antibiotics, so they tried another kind. They worked at first, or seemed to, but then he had a reaction. Oh, his beautiful face was so swollen. Anyway, we just don’t know and they’re waiting it out another day or two to see how he reacts to this third kind.”
I rest my forehead against my desk. Sepsis is not good. Sepsis can mean death for a person. Losing an arm is bad, but sepsis? That’s a whole different ballgame. His poor parents must be worried sick. There’s no way I can break up with him now.
“Is Alex awake?”
“He’s in and out. He’s just plum exhausted. So are we, quite frankly.”
“I bet. I’m so sorry about all of this, Mrs. Sanford. Please tell Alex I’m thinking about him. And will you please call me or my mom and let one of us know if anything changes?”
“Well, aren’t you going to come home and see him?”
“I—I can’t today,” I stutter.
“Oh, but he’ll be so happy to see you. Might make him feel better. You can do that for him? Right? I mean, my son did propose to you. It’s the least you can do, Morgan.”
Fucking hell. Do all the Southern moms take the same class? Guilt Trip 101? Because it’s working. I feel like I am a despicable person. I want Alex to be okay, but I don’t want to be a part of his recovery. Who thinks like that? This girl, that’s who.
“Um, I’ll see what I can do. I’ll have to rearrange some stuff and talk to my professors. But please, call me if he gets worse. Please.”
“Sure thing, sweetie. I’ll see ya real soon,” Agnes says in an overly confident voice.
“Goodbye.”
I hang up and throw the phone onto the couch. I should get in my car and drive home right now. But my nerves are shot and I’m not sure I should drive anywhere. I briefly wonder if Alex in actual danger? I don’t think Agnes would exaggerate.
I need to work off my anxiety in a constructive way, which used to mean sex or exercise for me. Since sex is off the table, and has been for months, suicide run wins.
I dress quickly, grab my headphones, and fly out the side door. I don’t bother stopping to stretch. I just need to be inside my head for a while—and maybe punish my body a bit.
My feet pound the pavement and I pull in huge gulps of air. My thoughts run like movie clips through my brain. I think about Alex when we were sixteen and how I thought I was in love with him.
I move through how interwoven our lives became. How deep I let myself get, even knowing that I was never going to choose him in the end.
I don’t let my mind think about what an asshole he can be. I’m sure he’s scared and feels helpless right now. Not that I would have a clue how to help him.
The guilt in my chest sits heavy. I knew years ago I would never marry Alex. And because I’m a selfish coward, I never told him.
I didn’t want to be alone in Planters Grove each summer so I let the lie continue. I let him believe that I would be there for him.
And now he’s a mess in a hospital room, in danger of losing his arm. In danger of an infection taking his fucking life. And his parents think we’re going to get married. What kind of person would walk into that hospital and tell them otherwise?
I race through scenarios, of all the probable outcomes. I can do it as soon as he’s out of the woods. Once they all know he’s okay, it won’t be as big a deal if we break up because they’ll be relieved he’s alive.
But what if he dies?
My stomach rolls and I have to stop to throw up. My heartrate is way too high. Plus, it’s hotter than balls outside and I’m in an emotional upheaval. Perfect recipe for a good vomit, Morgan. Way to go.
I thought a run would calm me, but it’s making me feel like I’m going to have a goddamned panic attack. I close my eyes and see Nate’s face. I need to find Nate. He’ll make me feel better.
I spring into Tau and bound up the stairs to his room. I’m bawling by the time I reach his door. He’s sitting in his chair, reading. When he sees me, he throws his book down and rushes over.
I collapse in his arms the second I feel his hands touch my skin.
“Morgan? Hey, what’s wrong? What happened?”
I sob, not able to speak. Nate picks me up and carries me to the couch. He sits and cradles me in his lap. I’m vaguely aware that I’m covered in sweat and have vomit breath, but I’m too upset to care.
“Shhh, calm down. I’ve got you.” Nate kisses my hair and rocks me gently.
My body starts to relax, wrapped in the cocoon of his strong arms. Eventually, my breathing is back to normal and my tears stop.
I wish the same could be said for the coating of stinky sweat covering me. Per Nate’s usual collected behavior, if it bothers him, he doesn’t give any indication.
“Can you talk now?” he asks.
“Yes.”
I start to sit up but he holds me still. “No, don’t move. Just let me hold you while you tell me what’s wrong.”
My eyes sting again, but this time it’s because of Nate. He’s such a good person and knows exactly what I need from him.
“I couldn’t get a hold of Alex, so I called his mother.”
Nate’s arms flex.
“And?”
“She said he’s probably going to lose his arm. He has a serious infection. They’re concerned about sepsis. He’s in and out of consciousness. It’s bad, Nate.”
I sag in sadness, emotionally and physically deflated. I don’t love Alex, but I would never wish this on him.
“Damn,” Nate says, stroking my hair. “That’s not good, Morgan.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“If he’s septic, it could mean he’ll be fighting for his life.”
I nod. Even though I already know this, it sounds so much more morbid when Nate says it.
“Do you need to go home, Morgan?”
“Probably.”
I don’t want to, but I need to. I try to imagine if it was me and Alex didn’t show up. I would think him callus and cruel. I don’t want to be the kind of person who doesn’t show up when it matters.
“I think if something happens to him, and you didn’t see him, it would affect you greatly. You should go home.”
Nate hugs me tighter, like he doesn’t want me to leave, a complete contradiction to his words.
“I, uh, I can’t drive there and break up with him, Nate. Not if … not if something really bad is getting ready to happen to him.”
Nate
“I know.”
I rub her back, trying to comfort her. This is a tough situation for Morgan. As much as I want her to extract herself from Alex’s life, I would never ask her to hurt someone who may very well be fighting to stay alive.
I will have to trust that the situation will be resolved in the future, when the circumstances aren’t so horrendous. I’m a patient man, and Morgan’s worth it.
“Do you want me to go with you?” I ask.
“Yes, but I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Maybe not, but I’ll still do it if you want me there.”
Morgan kisses my cheek. “Thank you.”
I plant a peck on her lips and say, “You’re welcome.”
I want to do more, but considering today’s events, I don’t think it would be appropriate. I don’t want Morgan to ever think I’ve taken advantage when she’s most vulnerable.
So, instead of keeping her against my body the rest of the afternoon, I send her back to the Omega house and tell her to get her things in order so she can leave campus for a few days.
My chest is tight at the thought of her going back to his side, so I focus my mind on several moves ahead and relax. Thankfully, I’m an excellent chess player.