Chapter 32
Chapter 32
The first thing Alexandria became aware of was the steady beep of a machine and the dull, throbbing pain in her head. Her eyes cracked open slowly, the fluorescent lights above her seemed to be blurring into harsh white streaks.
The room smelled of antiseptic and stale air. It was definitely a hospital room. She blinked a couple of times and her vision focused gradually on the beige walls, the IV stand beside the bed, and the worried face of Peter sitting in the plastic chair next to her.
"Alexandria?” His voice was soft and gentle. He sounded really anxious, like he'd been waiting for her to wake up for hours. “Hey… you’re awake.”
She tried to sit up, but a sharp spike of pain shot through her skull forcing her to wince. She pressed a hand to her forehead to ease the pain.
“What… happened?” She groaned quietly, her thoughts were still jumbled up and she could hardly think at all. Plus, her head was ringing.
Peter leaned forward, careful not to crowd her.
“You got into a fight at the party. One of the girls shoved you and you hit your head on the coffee table. Pretty hard. You were out cold for a bit; the entire night. They called an ambulance.”
She closed her eyes again as she began recollecting the event. Shame flooded through her like ice water and she felt like passing out again just to escape it. A fight. She had actually gotten into a physical fight like an ill-mannered girl who was raised in the gutters.
She had wanted to prove she was strong and capable of defending herself and her friend, only to end up getting knocked unconscious.
“I’m such an idiot,” she whispered, her voice was hoarse.
Peter shook his head quickly.
“No, you’re not. Those girls were being assholes. You stood up for me. That was… kind of badass, honestly.” He gave her a small, warm smile, the kind that always made everything feel a little lighter. “Though next time maybe we skip the punching part?”
Despite everything, a weak laugh escaped her. Peter just had that effect on her. He stayed with her through the morning, fetching water when she was thirsty, adjusting the pillow behind her head, and chatting about random, relaxing things; a funny video he saw, the terrible coffee from the hospital cafeteria, how he had convinced the nurses he was her “responsible older brother” even though he looked nothing like her.
He made her feel less alone, but deep down, beneath the gratitude, the shame still gnawed at her relentlessly.
She couldn't believe she'd actually let herself get to this. It still baffled her till now. It was one thing to go boxing in a grimy basement gym, and it was entirely another to actually get into a fight in a party. It was so embarrassing. And the fact that she'd actually gotten her ass kicked was something else entirely.
The doctor came in around 11pm, confirming she had a mild concussion. No bleeding, no serious damage, but she needed rest, no screens for a couple of days, and someone to keep an eye on her.
Peter immediately offered to drive her home and stay with her, he really did feel guilty for everything that had happened.
But Alexandria didn't want him feeling bad and all and offering to do stuff for her. Plus, she needed to be on her own for a moment, she needed time to process everything. She needed a moment to not have to smile and pretend everything was fine when she felt like she couldn't breathe at all.
"I’ll be fine,” she said, forcing a small smile. “Really. I'll be just fine.”
Peter tried to insist, he wasn't comfortable leaving her on her own.
“At least let me drive you. You shouldn’t be alone right now.”
She shook her head.
“I just need some space. Thank you, Peter. For everything. I mean it.”she said quietly. "I'll be fine. Trust me."
He finally relented, though he looked worried as he helped her sign the discharge papers and walked her out to a taxi. He hugged her carefully before she got in, telling her to text him if she needed anything at all.The ride back to the penthouse was quiet.
Alexandria rested her aching head against the window, watching the city blur past. Her head throbbed with every bump in the road but she was too tired to even lift her head. But the physical pain was nothing compared to the heavy weight in her chest.
By the time she stepped into her apartment, the silence felt deafening. She kicked off her shoes, left her bag by the door, and walked straight to her bedroom. The bed was still unmade from yesterday. She didn’t bother changing out of her clothes, she simply crawled under the covers, pulled them over her head, and let the silence swallow her.
The headache pulsed steadily behind her eyes. Every beat reminded her of how stupid she had been; getting drunk, starting a fight, ending up in the hospital like some reckless teenager. But worse than the embarrassment was the deeper ache; she couldn’t stop thinking about Jonathan.
Even now, lying here with a concussion because she had tried to prove she was strong, she still felt the pull. The memory of his voice in the car, the way he had looked at her when he told her to get out. The realization that a part of her wanted him to call her again. To tell her what to do. To take control so she didn’t have to feel this lost.
Against her will, tears slipped down her cheeks and soaked into the pillow. She had tried so hard to be better, to exorcise the ghost of him out of her, but at the end of the day, nothing had changed at all.