I stared at him. I looked up and down, saw how upset he was, and inched a little closer to him on the sofa. “Did you try?”
“I did. Over the years, I began talking about it. I sort of joked about it, trying to gauge the reaction. They were always lukewarm about it. It was a little strange, but I didn’t mind. After all, I was basically just taking their temperature. I was trying to see when they would be okay with me leaving.”
“How long were you talking about it?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. Years.”
“And they never got more receptive?”
“No. They never did,” he said. He was playing with the fabric of the throw blanket now, the one that was between us, and I could tell that he was getting progressively more nervous. I didn’t want to make him nervous, but I wanted to know the truth. I needed to. I stared at him, waiting for him to continue.
When he didn’t, I cleared my throat. “Okay,” I said. “And then what happened?”
“I was talking to my boss one day. We were at his house, sort of shooting the shit. We were friends, we had always been friends, though I would have never considered us close. He was actually a pretty good boss all things considered. He always divided our earnings equally, and he did the heavy lifting of selling everything afterward the job was done.”
“Right.”
“But I told them I wanted out. I was talking saying about going to school, maybe getting an AA in environmental science.”
I looked him up and down. “Really?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Yes, really. Is that so hard to believe?”
“No. I just didn’t know you liked environmental science that much.”
He laughed, quietly. “No, neither did I. Not until I started having to do community service, but I liked it so much I volunteered to keep doing it.”
“Yeah, I can see you liked it.”
“Anyway. That’s neither here and there. I told my boss my plans, and at first, he supported me. He said that he would even help pay for my schooling. Which was great, but I was doing it so I could get out of it, and he wasn’t having that. I was really good,” he said, taking a breath for what felt like the first time in minutes. “I mean, in the business, I’ve always been a useful decoy.”
“What happened then?”
“He wasn’t happy. We got into a screaming argument,” he said. “I told him I wanted out and there was no way that he could keep me there. I told him I wasn’t an indentured servant, that I appreciated everything he had done for me, but that I was done. And I meant it.”
I waited. I hadn’t realized it until then, but I was holding my breath.
“So I walked out. I was in his apartment, I turned away from him, and I walked out. As I was walking toward the door, I felt this warmth in my arm. It wasn’t pain. At least not at first. Then it felt like I was going to faint.”
“So you didn’t fall on your knife while you were cooking.”
He laughed, throwing his head back and letting go off the blanket. I didn’t realize how much I needed that bit of levity, too, because I instantly smiled. “I would’ve come up with a better story if I had known it was you who was going to see to me.”
“You don’t get to pick your ER doctor.”
“But if I had, I would’ve picked you.”
I smiled. “That’s flattering. But a bit off-topic. So what did you do?”
“I drove myself to the hospital. I was feeling very bad, very woozy, but I knew that I couldn’t just get the knife out of my own arm. That was just going to make it worse.”
“A wise decision.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that. Anyway, I didn’t want him, or any of my, y’know, colleagues, to find me. Which is why I checked out of the hospital. I was a little scared, but honestly, I was mostly embarrassed. I didn’t want you to see that part of my life.”
“Why not?”
“Because. You were this successful ER doctor, and I was a petty criminal, who had just gotten stabbed in the arm,” he said. “I mean, could there be a bigger loser?”
I bit down on my lower lip. “I don’t think you’re a loser,” I said. “You just… steered off the path a bit. That doesn’t mean anything.”
“That is a very charitable way of putting it.”
“Well, I feel like it’s the truth. You were just doing what you could do.”
“I guess,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “Was that what the police were asking you about?”
I shook my head. “No,” I said. “They were asking me about the second time you came to the hospital.”
“With the—oh, yeah,” he said, swallowing. “I mean, that tracks.”
I waited, but I had scooted slightly closer to him as he had been talking. The more he talked, the worse I felt for him. I was feeling the warmth off his body and I couldn’t help but smile as his gaze met mine.
“Hey,” I said. “You can tell me anything.”
“I would rather not.”
“Why?”
“Because you’ll judge me,” he said.
“Yes,” I said, smiling at him. “But I’ll hold your hand while I do it.”
He rolled his eyes. “That’s not fair,” he said, though he was smiling back at me. “You’re not being
