Creamed - Page 6

I know it’s not bad coffee, and he’s said so many times he can’t get enough of my cream and sugar either….

But why would he –?

There’s no time to even think about it. This pain in my chest makes me grateful I’m in the hospital.

Not that I have insurance, but I’m pretty sure it’s not a heart attack either.

It just kills me to see Foxx toss his coffee aside as if it’s nothing.

As if I’m nothing to him.

After everything he’s said about how great it is and everything I’ve put into it. I feel… betrayed somehow.

And he was the one saying ‘talk tomorrow’ as if he meant it.

I try to tell myself that maybe the coffee’s just bad, or maybe he’s been called away on an emergency but that doesn’t add up either.

Foxx is walking as tall, calm, and strong as any man would after a cup of Joe.

He’s not taking it back to complain, and he’s in no hurry.

My heart feels like it’ll break if I stand here a second longer, and without even thinking about it, I bolt for the nearest exit.

The cold air outside on my face stings, and everything gets real blurry real quick.

Until I realize I’m bawling my eyes out, running as best I can, and most definitely not paying attention to where I’m going.

I just want to get away from this feeling.

Foxx? How…how could you?

It’s the last thought I have before I hear the screech of tires.

My side hurts first, then my foot.

The whole world suddenly looks and feels like I’ve been stuffed into a running tumble dryer until it all stops.

I’m on my back, and I can see the sky past the tall downtown buildings.

There’s the pain in my foot again and then faces hovering over me.

My eyes flutter, but I can’t seem to keep them open, I just feel heavy, like someone’s put a blanket over me.

“Is she alive?” I faintly hear one voice asking.

“Should we call 911? The hospital’s right over there. She really got creamed just now. Did the guy even stop?” asks another.

I try to say something, but the heaviness in my eyes and mind is too much, and I black out. There’s nothing.

Finally coming around, I have a jolt of panic followed by that pain in my ankle again, which feels worse whenever I move.

I cry out with a wince of pain, my eyes darting open as I try to sit up.

“It’s alright, lay still. You’ve been in an accident. What’s your name?” a kind voice asks, the face of a female paramedic coming into focus a foot above me.

She’s got a gentle but firm hand on my shoulder to make sure I stay lying down, and she keeps telling me not to move while she puts a neck brace on me.

“M… Mandy,” I manage to mumble, trying to say something about not wanting an ambulance.

I’m desperately trying to figure out what’s just happened, knowing it must be bad.

“Mandy. That’s a nice name,” she continues in a soothing tone.

“I’m Monica, and we’re gonna take you over to the hospital, get you checked out, okay?”

I’m trying to fight it, this sleepiness. Trying to say I don’t have insurance to go to any damned hospital, but it’s no use.

I let my eyes close again, and I’m barely able to keep awake while I feel myself being lifted up.

The sounds of the street, the ambulance, and the small crowd I figure must be rubber-necking aren’t enough to stop me from passing out.

My final thought is Foxx and how I forgive him for everything.

Wishing he was here to help me instead.

Wishing I hadn’t been such a damned fool by running off like that in the first place.

Oh, Foxx… I’m sorry…



After assessing the patient in the ER, I arrange to have him sent straight up to the cardiac unit after he’s stabilized.

And seeing as I’m on the ground floor already, it’s the perfect excuse to duck off for another coffee once I’m done.

The little coffee shop has a late afternoon rush that seems to have followed me. But Mandy’s there. That’s all I really care about.

My mouth twitches with approval, but I’m trying hard not to smile like a lunatic every time I see her.

And seeing her face shift to happy instead of busy once she spots me tells me I can’t just be imagining this connection between us either.

I’m so lost in just staring at her, feeling more tongue-tied than ever like the idea she might just might actually feel the same way I do burns through my brain. It eclipses the thought of asking her out or even walking her home once she’s finished.

The real reason I’m supposed to be here.


Even though I just know she is the one, it couldn’t be this simple. It seems that Mandy was dropped right into my lap.

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