Chapter 4 Fifth Avenue

Clara

Somehow, through the tears that wouldn’t stop pouring out my eyes, I made my way to the parking lot.

“Ma’am.” A security guard hurried to me when I missed the door handle for the second time. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” I said, avoiding his hand as he reached out to steady me. “You can go back to your post.”

“Should I call you a designated driver?” He asked, still standing behind me. “It’s not safe to drive when you’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk.” I turned to look directly at him for the first time.

His eyes widened when he saw my tear streaked face. He looked in the direction of the hall and hesitated for a moment. “Is there anything I can do for you? Should I get someone from in there?”

“No.” I wiped my face roughly with the sleeve of my shirt and got in the car. “They’d only mock me anyway.”

*******************************

I drove aimlessly around the city for a while, while trying to process everything that had happened. I couldn’t go home, not yet. And I couldn’t go to Mark’s either, one look at me and he would know something was wrong.

“Shit.” I looked down to see that the low fuel warning light was on. I looked over at the inbuilt navigation, luckily the next gas station was only a few minutes away.

Except for one white van, the gas station was pretty much empty. I was a few minutes into driving again when I noticed a white car behind me. It was late at night and there were few cars on the road so the van stood out like a beacon.

“Huh.” I laughed nervously, as my heart dropped to my stomach. “What a coincidence.”

But it wasn’t.

After three right turns and still seeing the van following behind me, I slowed down just enough for the traffic red light to come on, then sped up immediately.

If it’d been a movie, that stunt would have worked. But it wasn’t a movie, and I wasn’t a main character by any means, so instead of miraculously escaping from the person tailing me, I ran into a truck instead.

It happened fast. One second I was free and the next I had pieces of glass flying into my face. For a few minutes after the collision, I couldn’t hear anything past the ringing in my ears.

The car had turned over so I lay upside down in the driver’s seat, barely able to see past the blood streaming down my face.

With a trembling, blood covered hand, I reached out for the phone on the passenger’s seat. It’d been thrown out of my bag during the crash and the screen was badly cracked already, but I didn’t need to look to recognize the man on the lock screen.

I forced my eyes open, past the heaviness pressing down my eyelids and dialed the only number I’d saved in my favorites list.

The first call went unanswered. So did the second, the third and the fourth. On the fifth try, Ronan’s voice came through. “What is it Clara? Don’t you know I’m in the hospital with Veronica right now? What do you want?”

“Ronan,” relief flowed through me when I heard his voice and a sudden urge to cry came over me. I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “I got into an accident. It hurts so much, can you come get me?”

He sighed before I even finished speaking. A long drawn out sigh that told me he would rather be doing anything else than listening to me speak. “Haven’t you done enough for tonight? Clara, I’ve had enough of this. You used to be so sensible, what changed?”

“Sensible?”

“You knew what this was from the start.” He said. “You risked your life to save my grandfather during a fire and I agreed to marry you because he asked me to.”

Just because of that promise, I’ve given you a life of luxury that you wouldn’t have ever tasted on your own and so much money you won’t ever need to work.

Clara, what else do you want from me? Do you have to pretend you had an accident just because I took Veronica to the hospital? Should I shackle myself to you for the rest of my life before you’ll be satisfied?”

“I’m not pretending.” I said. “I really—“

“Ronan!” Veronica’s scream sounded through the phone. “I can’t breathe. Get the doctors.”

“Go home, Clara.” He said, sighing. “I need to stay with Veronica and take care of her. You caused this after all.”

The line went dead.

I don’t know how much longer I stayed in that car, blood rushing to my head, and my hand wrapped tightly around the phone even as the shards of the broken screen dig into my palm.

I held on, ignoring the blood slowly trickling down my hand. “He’ll call back.”

He didn’t.

Tears soaked my temples, and for a moment, I wondered what would happen if I died. Would he finally feel regret over how he’d treated me?

“ …..there’s a woman in the car.” Someone yelled as my eyes started to close. “I saw the whole thing happen.”

***************************

Consciousness returned to me in fragments. First the sound of paper being flipped, then a deep breath and muted conversation.

I felt a gloved hand pry open my eyelid seconds before a blinding light was pointed directly at my eye.

“No concussion.” A slightly mechanical voice said, then the hand retreated. “That’s a good sign.”

I blinked several times as my eyes tried to adjust to the brightness of the room. A little turn to the side revealed that the mechanical voice belonged to a nurse who stood next to me, writing something on her clipboard.

“Excuse me.” I said, my voice a feathery whisper. Her pen paused as she turned to me. “What happened? Why am I here?”

The slight furrowing of her brows was the only sign of her concern. “Did you lose your memory? You were brought here after you had an accident.”

I shut my eyes against the memories flooding my mind as I recalled the accident and what had led to it. When I opened them back up, the nurse was staring at me. “I didn’t lose my memory.”

“That’s good then.” She said without missing a beat. She looked back down at her clipboard.

“How badly am I injured?” I tried to smile past the panic that was steadily rising in my chest. “I can’t feel anything.”

“That’s the painkillers.” She said. “They had to put you on some pretty strong stuff because you were in very bad shape when they brought you in, but it should be wearing off soon.”

“How bad?”

She paused for a second as if evaluating my ability to receive the information. Then nodded in approval. “You had a collapsed lung, multiple fractures, and several cuts on your face and neck, so we had to operate on you. Luckily, nothing happened to your baby.”

“My baby?” I stared open mouthed at her. “I’m pregnant?”

“According to the test results, yes.” She said, flipping a page. “Two weeks pregnant to be precise.” She glanced down at her clipboard. “You obviously remember what happened, so we’ll skip that question. Do you know what day it is today and where you are?”

It was daytime so Ronan’s birthday had already passed. “Tuesday, June 16th.”

“Thursday.” She corrected, writing on her clipboard. “You’ve been unconscious for three days.”

“Three days?”

“Three days.”

I shifted slightly on the bed. “How did I get here?“

She checked the clipboard. “Someone saw the accident happen and reported it. What’s your name?”

“Clara Witherspoon.” I said, still trying to process the fact that there was now a baby inside me.

She nodded and wrote it down. “Where do you live and who do we contact to let them know you’re in the hospital?”

“Fifth avenue.” I said. “You can call my husband. He’s my emergency contact.”

Her pen paused again and she finally looked up at me. “We did. He always ended the call as soon as your name was mentioned. Do you have any other family in New York?”

I tried to smile but it fell flat. “He’s probably busy working. Please try again.”

True to her professionalism, she nodded and started walking away. “A doctor will come to check on you soon.”

“Thank you.” I said as I watched her walk out the door.

“You look so young and you’re married already?” A voice came from the right side of the room. I turned to the speaker, a patient like me who had her legs bandaged tightly.

“I’m twenty four.”

“Twenty four is pretty young to be married,” she said. “Let alone to be having issues in your marriage don’t you think?”

I stilled, then said stiffly. “I don’t remember ever complaining to you.”

She smiled, then said to the woman on the left side of the room. “Told you she’s got teeth.”

I looked uncertainly between the both of them. “What?”

She waved off the question. “Never mind that. Want me to give you tips on how to get him in line? Men are like dogs you know, they’re very trainable.”

Startled laughter burst out my throat and like a broken radio, I repeated, “what?”

“Not all men need training.” The woman on the left side said. “Some of them are born to love their wives. Just look at Ronan Carson. I heard he personally brought his wife to the hospital because she felt a little dizzy and has been sleeping here to watch over her.”

A white hot flash of pain pierced my brain. “What did you just say?”

“Ronan Carson.” She repeated slowly. “The genius architect and CEO.” She narrowed her eyes at me, staring intently. “He lives at fifth avenue too. Maybe you’ve met him before?”