Leave

“Then so be it”, you say sadly, before going through the open door and pulling it closed behind you.

You walk home, enter your room and fall down onto your bed. Tears are streaming down your face. Luckily, your parents are on vacation for a week, so they can’t see you like this. You can’t sleep that night. You are terrified by the images, that pop up in your head over and over again.

Pictures of Danielle, sucking a faceless man in a white lab coat, pictures of her, riding a faceless doctor on his desk, pictures of her, being fucked by a doctor while looking you directly in the eyes, saying: “He values my life, Michael. Why didn’t you?”

The next day you can’t pull your eyes of your phone. You constantly check the time, to know, whether the surgery has already started. You can’t bring yourself to not care about her. Every minute you check the time again, maybe hoping, that a message from her would light up your phone screen, telling you, that she’s fine. You don’t even care, what she does to the doctor anymore, as long as she is fine.

You know, you could just visit her in the hospital, but you don’t want to risk even accidentally walking in on her and the doctor getting it on. The thought alone sickens you. After two hours you hear a familiar sound coming from your phone. You immediately check. It’s a message from Danielle:

“Hey, I’m OK.

Can you please come? I need someone to drive me home. And I need to apologize to you!

Danielle”

You struggle to decide, whether do go to the hospital or not. But you just can’t ignore her request. Plus she said, she wanted to apologize. So you start going to the hospital. By the end you are even jogging moderately.

You find her in her room in a surgery gown. As you open the door and she spotts you, she immediately starts smiling.

“Oh thank god, Michael, you came!”

Then her face darkens and you can see guilt filling up her eyes. She adjusts the bed, so she nearly sits upright.

“I am so sorry about what I said to you! I’m an ungrateful bitch for saying you wouldn’t care about my life. And you were right the thing with Doctor Meyer was a horrible idea from me and I didn’t think about, how much it must have hurt you, to hear that from me. You Must be so angry with me right now!”

You wish you could say otherwise, but you don’t like to lie. Of course you are angry as hell, but all of your remarks had to wait, until you knew a key fact: