Stupid bitch. Stupid stupid bitch.
“Shut up. Shut up!” I cover my ears but it’s coming from inside my head. I crack the door and hear a television on but it doesn’t look like anyone is out there. I take a deep breath and make a break for it. I run to the door, unlock it, and shoot down the stairs as fast as my legs can carry me. When I make it out on the street I gasp as much air as I can. I look around; I have no fucking idea where I am. I’m crying, tears streaming down my face as I try to get a grip of myself.
“Pull it together.” I look around. The street is full of parked cars. There’s construction going on towards the end of the block and my heart leaps when I spot Kam’s truck. I run to it and pull on the door, thanking God it’s open. My keys and purse are both on the floor. I’m so happy I could scream. I grab my phone and lock the doors. I see twelve missed calls. They’re all from Kam and Blue.
My hands are trembling as I start to call Kam but then I think about what to tell him. I have no clue what is going on, how I got here, why I was naked in someone’s bed. I have to get away from here, wherever here is. I manage to stop shaking and turn the car on and pull off. I don’t recognize any of these streets though. I drive a few blocks and pull into a gas station. I pull up Google Maps on my phone and put in my address. My heart starts to beat out of my chest when I see that I’m in Detroit. How the hell did I get here? The charity dinner was in Indiana, wasn’t it?
You’re so pathetic.
I try to tell myself there’s a reasonable explanation for this but from all the missed calls on my phone I can’t think of any. What do I tell Kam? I woke up in a strange bed naked. No one kidnapped me. I have his truck and my things are all in here. No one tried to stop me from leaving. I fucked up. I did something terrible, I know it. I won’t be able to explain this to him. There’s nothing for him to understand. I haven’t told him about everything. It wasn’t important. I thought I was okay since that was over. I cover my face with my hands, the tears not stopping. I’m so stupid.
My phone rings again and it’s Kam. I’m terrified to answer. What do I tell him? I slam my hands on the steering wheel and once it stops ringing I open up my text messages. There’s so many messages from him.
Where are you babe?
Did you leave?
Megan where are you I’m worried.
Megan call me.
What the hell is going on, call me ASAP.
I’m calling the police if I don’t hear from you in the next hour.
Please call me babe I’m worried out of my mind.
I shake my head furiously in disbelief. The first text message was at seven yesterday, the last was five minutes ago.
I have to let him know I’m okay, but I’m not.
I am alive.
I have to know what happened before I talk to him.
I can’t talk to him.
Get it together. I can do this.
I finally manage to get a grip enough to text him back.
“I’m okay. I’m sorry. I’ll call you soon.”
I hit send, knowing that it’s such a pathetic excuse of a message, but I have no idea what else to say. I try to get my thoughts together, but they’re cloudy. I think hard. I remember the large elegant venue, me in a gorgeous dark evening gown, Kam in a breathtaking suit. Town cars and music and dancing and…and…
Blue.
I remember me and Blue talking about…I don’t remember…was it…
My parents, I think?
He had found them, the information. My heart starts to speed up. But what then, what the hell happened then? How did I end up here? I head into the gas station and grab a bottle of water, a doughnut, and a travel packet of Tylenol. I have to talk to Blue. I head back in the car and eat a few bites of my doughnut and drink down the pill and water. I text Blue call me a.s.a.p. make sure Kam or Katie is not around. Five minutes later I see Blue’s name on my caller ID.
“Where the hell are you Megan? Kam is freaking the fuck out. He thought someone kidnapped you, the entire Indiana PD was about to be looking for your ass!” he says breathlessly.
“I just told him I’m okay. I’m okay, I think,” I tell him, still unsure of what happened.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m in the fucking bathroom. Are you okay or not? Where are you?”
“I’m in Detroit and I have no idea how I got here.”
“What? I don’t understand,” he says, confused.
“Last night we talked…did you find out about my parents?” I ask, gripping my forehead.
“Yeah, I told you and as soon as I did you started demanding I tell you right then. What, you don’t remember any of this?” he asks, bewildered.
“No nothing. What else happened?” I ask him reluctantly.
“Jesus, Megan. You flipped out on me then you slapped George on your way out. I don’t know what happened with that but by the time we went to look for you, you were gone. Where are you?” he asks firmly.
“I’m—” I look around for the address of the gas station.
“Wait, Blue—you can’t tell them. Could you meet me with the info you have?” I cross my fingers hoping he’ll say yes.
“Why can’t I tell them? What the fuck is going on?” he pleads.
“I don’t know exactly but I can’t see Kam right now. I need to, I don’t know. I need to figure this out. My parents’ info though, if you could meet me with it.”
“I can’t lie to them. Katie will blow a casket and Kam will kill me” he whines.
“I’m not asking you to lie, I’m just asking for help.”
If he doesn’t say yes I don’t know what I’ll do. I let out a desperate sigh.
“Please.” I tell him before a silent prayer. I shut my eyes tightly and allow the desperation to seep through my voice. “I don’t have anyone else,” I beg him. There’s silence on the phone.
“Okay. Give me a few hours.”
“Thank you Blue,” I tell him, with as much appreciation as I can muster.
Time’s up babe.
Ian
“I don’t think you’ve ever taken substantial vacation time, of course. You’ve been a great worker. Whatever you want I’ll have it approved.” My boss Ed nods as he inspects my print job.
“Yeah, it’s time. I just want to put more time into my family,” I say to him over the machinery clanking in the background.
“Congratulations on the wedding by the way. How is it going?” he asks. I think of his question. It’s been three months since she said yes, since I became a husband, and my girlfriend my wife, my other half, or to get biblical—my rib. I never understood that saying before but now I get it. The wife is the rib because she’s a part of you; without her you’re not complete. I don’t think I was whole before her. She’s the part of me I didn’t know was missing, one of the best parts.
“Better than I ever could have imagined.”
“Good, good. Enjoy it while you can.” He chuckles. I hate when older guys who get frustrated and jaded because they married people they barely liked in the first place describe marriage as prison or hell. I look forward to the day when me and my girl are both old and grey and our grandkids are the highlight of our life.