If He Had Been with Me

In books, people always wake up in the hospital and can’t remember how they got there, and then it all slowly comes back to them.

I opened my eyes and thought, “Oh shit.”

***

I sit cross-legged in the middle of the bed, wearing a scratchy blue nightgown. The hospital blanket is depressingly small and thin, more like a beach towel. I have an IV in one hand and my wrists are so neatly wrapped and taped that it makes me wonder about the person who bandaged them. I study my bandages as the nurse takes my blood pressure and asks me if I know what day it is.

“And do you remember why you are here, dear?” the nurse asks me. I dislike her voice. “Autumn?”

“I remember,” I say. I remember much more than I wish I did, since I am planning on doing it all over again.

She asks more questions. I mumble answers. I shouldn’t ask about the person who did the bandages because that would be weird, and I need to get out of here as soon as possible. Finny would forgive me. No, Finny will forgive me when I get to explain to him afterward. I touch the cotton wrapping with one finger.

“And when was your last menstrual cycle, dear?”

For the first time in weeks, everything within me goes still and silent.

“On what day did you last have your period, Autumn?” I look up at her face for the first time. She’s younger than I thought.

“I can’t remember,” I say. She frowns.