Perfecting Patience

“Sweetie, you’re hurt. Please let them take care of you. If you love me at all, you’ll let them do their job. I was worried sick. I don’t even want to think about something else happening to you. I can’t lose another person I love. Please.” I couldn’t stop the tears.

As if he’d been drugged again, he stopped fighting me. I felt the soft brush of his thumb against my cheek and then he sighed and fell back against the bed with a hiss. He clinched his eyes in pain and then looked up at me with sadness.

“My hand?” he asked softly.

I didn’t want to be the one to tell him, but no way could I let anyone else do it. I shook my head and pushed a thick shock of black hair from his eyes.

“It was crushed. It’s going to be a while before you can play again. You’ll need physical therapy and some other stuff.”

He clenched his jaws so tightly I thought they’d pop. First, raw sadness passed through his expression and then he was angry. His face turned bright red and the strain in his neck made a muscle jump. He swallowed hard in frustration and pain. I’d never seen him respond this way before. I wasn’t afraid of him; I was afraid for him.

Before he could say anything, I spoke again.

“Zeke, it’s fine. Everything’s going to be fine. We’ll take care of everything and you’ll be playing again before you know it,” I said reassuringly.

He wouldn’t open his eyes and look at me. Instead, he shook his head before turning away from me completely.

I stepped to the side as the nurse came in and questioned him. She asked about his medical history, about recent drugs, and then she left. After that, the doctor came in and checked him over again. Throughout all of this, Zeke never looked at me or spoke a word. I couldn’t tell what he was feeling. I didn’t know if he was angry or hurt. I just knew he wasn’t okay.

“He needs to rest,” the doctor said as he left the room.

That was our cue to leave, but I refused. I would sit there with him until he was better. He’d do the same for me, and there was no way I was walking away. This was sort of my fault, after all.

*

Three days later, Zeke left the hospital. He still hadn’t said much to me, basic answers and never any questions. I’m not sure what worried me more—the fact that his hand was crushed, or the fact that he’d pretty much given up all control. It wasn’t like him and I hated to see him quietly go along with everything. He was broken, physically and mentally.

I had planned on going home before classes started back, but no way was I leaving him when he needed me here. I called Aunt Sarah and told her what was going on and she fully supported me missing a few classes to help Zeke.

Another day passed and still he didn’t talk to me. He just lay in bed and either stared at the ceiling or slept. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I spoke up.

“Tell me what’s wrong, Zeke. You haven’t said much to me since you woke up, and I’m starting to get worried. Whatever I can do to make this better or easier, I’ll do it. Just tell me and I’ll do it.”

I pushed a stray piece of hair from his face. Dark eyes turned to me and cut through me. His succulent mouth was pinched in an angry expression that I’d seen before many times when I first met him. It was as if the man I’d first met had returned in full effect and the sweet guy who whispered I love you through the phone and kissed me sweetly was gone.

“I think you’ve done enough,” he said before he turned away and blocked me out.

Ten

Zeke

I didn’t want to be angry. I never wanted to say hurtful things to Patience, but every time I looked down at the cast that covered my right hand and forearm, I couldn’t help but feel rage.

Playing my guitar was my release. It got me through a lifetime of craziness, and now I couldn’t do it for months. Who knew if I’d ever be able to play again? My life, my job, everything I’d worked so hard for, all of it was gone in the blink of an eye. Gone. All because I was chasing after a chick, which was something I swore I’d never do. I loved Snowflake, but I loved playing guitar, too.

She didn’t say anything after I was rude to her. I hadn’t meant to be, but after days of holding in my anger, I just snapped. I could tell I hurt her feelings, though. Her lower lip trembled a bit and her eyes widened. I felt like shit, but I was just so pissed off at everyone.

She didn’t need to even be there anymore. She didn’t need to see me lying around like a bum, not being able to work. School was where she wanted to be so badly, and that’s where she should be.