Hate or Fate Enemies to Lovers Novel – I received a call from the hospital telling me that my boyfriend and another woman were being emergency treatment. She was sitting in the passenger seat with my boyfriend when the accident happened. Elijah’s eyes twitched, then, his lashes fluttered open to wince against the lights. “What happened?” he whispered. “You and a woman, named Meghan Keen were involved in a car accident this morning,” I explained. “It’s not what you think,” Elijah begged, his mouth working lazily to complete a sentence. “Oh yeah? And what innocent activity were you two doing on a Saturday morning in your car?” I remarked indignantly. “It’s not like that, baby!” Elijah cried. “And I’m leaving,” I holding back fresh tears. “Wait, BABY!” Elijah howled at my back. Someone was going to have to tell him (again) that we broke up, and it wasn’t going to be me. “Goodbye, Elijah.”
Absentmindedly, I pulled Jane Eyre from its place to flip through the pages. The gentle hum of my phone against our plush rug drew my attention. “Telemarketers!” I huffed, stuffing the phone into the pocket of my worn jeans. The urgent buzz on my hip was the final straw. I whipped out the phone to punch the accept button. “Hello, who-?” I was ready to unleash on the pesky salesperson who dared interrupt my Saturday. “Is this Isla Brodeur?” An official-sounding female voice interrupted me. In the background, there were all sorts of discordant sounds, like clattering and muffled shouting and crackly rummaging. Then, a computerized voice called out an announcement for someone named ‘Doctor Davis’ and my pulse skyrocketed. I knew those sounds. “Who is this?” I barely managed to whisper. “Ma’am, I’m calling from the University of Washington Trauma Center,” the woman said, very matter-of-fact. “And I’m trying to locate Elijah Wagner’s emergency contact, Isla Brodeur.”
The entire ride over to the hospital in Bart’s car I felt numb. I’d managed to send texts to Elijah’s mom and Bart. Then, my panic took over and I’d slumped onto the kitchen tiles to try and keep breathing. Noises swelled and echoed. My chest was so tight, I couldn’t fill my lungs all the way, as if a massive snake were slowly closing around my ribs to suffocate me to death. All I could do was worry and cry, then, worry some more. Chilling memories seeped into my veins and wrapped their poisonous tendrils around my bones, rattling my frame like the bars of a cage. This couldn’t be happening. Not again. “Grady and Gray are meeting us at the hospital,” Bart reported through gritted teeth. “Move your car!” I hated hospitals. Elijah was one of the only people to know why. The nurse led us to another waiting area, this one much smaller than the last. I crumpled against Bart’s chest to dampen his gym shirt with my tears. It was sweat-wicking material, so I’m sure he didn’t mind.
We didn’t know the extent of Elijah’s injuries or even what to expect. They always brought you back to the teeny tiny waiting rooms before giving you the really terrible news. I’m pretty sure hospitals do that so the general population couldn’t hear the agonized wails of people’s loved ones. A small commotion of feet forced me to focus. When I managed to look up, I found Grady and Gray jogging after the same nurse. Their apprehensive expressions matched everyone else. “Did someone call his family?” Gray was the first to ask, rubbing his eyes to hide the fact that he’d obviously been crying. “His parents are driving down with his little sister and brother from Mercer Island,” I repeated what Elijah’s mom had told Bart through gut-wrenching tears over the phone. “They’re waiting for the ferry,” Bart mumbled, nodding absentmindedly to my update.
“No!” Grady exploded, craning his neck to look down the hallway. “Where’s his doctor?” “Still in surgery,” Bart answered. “Isla, are you OK?” Gray knelt down by my knees to catch my drifting gaze. “Nope,” I said, studying the worry lines of his pursed expression. Gray’s lower lip quivered as he sucked in a shaky breath. “Does anybody know where he was when it happened?” Grady asked, still completely bewildered and growing visibly agitated. “Probably driving home from your hike?” I suggested wearily. “What hike?” Grady snapped, taking his frustrations out on the wrong person. “Elijah went hiking this morning,” I stared at Grady, perplexed. “With you.” “What? No, he didn’t,” Grady argued. “I’ve been driving rides all morning.” I scanned the boys’ faces, trying to figure out what was going on. Gray’s penitent cringe made my stomach flip. He knew something the others didn’t, and it wasn’t good. “He probably meant to say, Gray,” he answered, grinding his teeth as if biting something else back.
“We were hiking this morning, at Discovery Park.” That’s not what Elijah told me. I watched Grady’s expression fall with an unspoken realization. He slapped his palm over his eyes to lower his head (like he’d really screwed up). Bart just kept looking from Gray to Grady like he was trying to work out why he didn’t know what was going on. Finally, my gaze settled back on Gray, who was the only person brave enough to meet my eyes. My already knotted stomach folded in on itself to tangle my guts as my skin went ice cold with shock. Or maybe I was going numb to stop the truth from sinking in. A tall man in a white lab coat and paper footies fit over his functional green sneakers walked up. Bart hugged me tighter as Gray stretched up from his crouch.
“Are any of you here for Ms. Keen?” The man asked, pulling down his paper mask to reveal a five o’clock shadow under his eye bags. “We’re here for Elijah Wagner,” Gray supplied. An older woman with terrified eyes and stringy blonde hair who had been squashed into the corner stood up. “I’m Mrs. Keen, Meghan’s mom,” the lady whispered in a trembling voice. “Alright,” the doctor sighed. “And I take it you’re all here for Mr. Wagner?” We nodded dutifully. “Both Mr. Wagner and Ms. Keen are out of surgery and recovering,” the doctor told us in a sort of monotone voice that stretched out every syllable. “They both suffered blunt force trauma, so we will be keeping them overnight to monitor their progress. Mr. Wagner’s left hand is going to need a few more reconstructive surgeries to ensure he retains most of his movement. A specialist should be able to take you through his operation schedule and physical therapy recommendations later this afternoon.”
Mrs. Keen crumbled as if she were going to pass out. Gray dove, catching her before she could smack into the knees of the gentleman sitting next to Bart. He propped her up while she sobbed into Gray’s jacket. I, however, was flooded with a very different sensation. My brain was tingling from the explosions going off in my chest, sending up tiny flares to further concuss my already shell-shocked mind. I didn’t want to weep with relief, and my joints hadn’t come undone at the news Elijah had survived. In fact, I wasn’t sure I fully understood what the actual was going on, or, why we needed to know about Meghan Keen. Thank goodness she was going to be alright, whoever she was. “Was Ms. Keen the other driver?” I looked at the doctor. “No, she was in the passenger seat,” he shrugged as if this should have been common knowledge. “There were no other individuals involved in the collision, as far as I know.” “Why was Elijah with Meghan Keen?” I couldn’t help but look at his friends, our friends, to help me understand. Something else was going on. “Gray,” my eyes landed on the guiltiest expression. “You said he was hiking with you.” “C’mon,” Grady jumped in to get my attention. “Eli’s going to be OK, that’s what matters here.”
I was imprisoned in Gray’s watering eyes, searching mine for forgiveness. He was the only one of them that dared look at me. Probably because he didn’t mind hurting my feelings. “You weren’t with Elijah?” I asked, not expecting an answer. “Uh, do any of you want to be there when he wakes up?” The doctor interjected, clearly annoyed. Gray’s breath grew shallow. “No, I wasn’t with him.” “Can I see my daughter?” Mrs. Keen pleaded with the surgeon, ignoring the drama unfolding nearby. “A nurse can give you room numbers,” the doctor nodded, then, turned his back on the group of bickering twenty-somethings to walk away. My cheeks burned as if I’d just been smacked. I genuinely didn’t know what to do. Should I wait around to ask Elijah whether he’d been cheating on me? Did it make me a bad person if I wanted to leave before he woke up? What if this was an innocent mistake and I was leaving him alone in his time of need? I was starting to feel like I should admit myself to the trauma ward for a spell. “I need to take a walk,” I announced, my head spinning with questions. “I need some…Fresh air.” “I’ll text you Eli’s room number,” Bart promised as I stumbled to my own two feet.
After a few tentative steps, I lurched away like a broken marionette. Keeping my eyes glued to the floor, I concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. The linoleum provided a faithful pattern for my boots to follow while I dutifully examined the speckles of puce and brown in the ugly design. When I finally burst from the hospital’s sliding doors into the misty afternoon to inhale a freezing breath, I was fighting back sobs. What was happening? The love of my life was practically in traction and he might possibly be cheating on me. If Elijah was unhappy, he would have told me. Or, I would have seen signs of him cheating, wouldn’t I? I mean, we lived together. Elijah was cheating on me. My best friend and the man I’d planned on spending the rest of my life with, was a cheater. The only living person to know that my mom cheated on my dad. Elijah was a cheater. I kept repeating the scenario over and over until the words started to sound ridiculous. “Hey!” Gray’s voice cut through the zooming cars beyond the alcove of the hospital pull-up. I didn’t stop or turn around. I didn’t want to see his callous face.
Not then. Not while I was too embarrassed and too horrified and too furious to think straight. “Isla, wait!” His urgent footsteps slapped the damp pavement, getting closer. I wheeled around to face him, startling Gray to a stop when he caught sight of the agony tugging at my mouth. “What, Gray?” I panted through the humiliating gulps overtaking my lungs. “What more is there to say?” Rain trickled down my neck, but I couldn’t feel a thing. Gray’s penetrating stare had me trapped once more. His sopping chest rose and fell with his choppy breathing. The silence stretched between us in a discordant nothing. He wasn’t glaring at me like the irksome girlfriend of his best friend or sneering in triumph at my pain. Gray’s expression was unfathomable and so intense that he seemed to be trembling. Or maybe that was me? Or maybe it was the rain? His lips parted as he took three urgent steps to close the distance.