FORTY

Justine

The crowd parts around me as soon as I start running from Ronan, closing again behind me like a mother hen folding her wings around her chick. "This way, girl!" A huge female orc wraps a muscular arm around my shoulders and guides me along for a while, keeping me on my feet. She gives me a sympathetic grin around her tusks. "I was rejected, too. Fuck ‘im."

I can't even comprehend where all these people came from. I thought going out the back exit would be safe.

I'm still haunted by the tormented look on Ronan's face as I turned to leave. I've never seen him look so unsure. He looked like a big stone statue about to crumble.

There's a shout and another surge. I'm tipped to the side and my orc friend is gone. I stagger left, trying to regain my balance.

Did I do the right thing? The further I get from Ronan, the less certain I feel.

Maybe I should have waited and talked to him.

No. No! He always has me so off balance. I make bad choices. Choices I know aren't good for me.

What if I just needed to wait a little longer, though?

I twist, but I've turned the corner. Besides, I'd never be able to see him through the cluster of people around me.

"Hey!" I'm elbowed roughly by someone going past.

I stumble.

Another shout. A scream. There's a change in the mood. It's getting squashy. We're funneling between two tall buildings. The press of people surges forward. No one has room to stop and wait for anyone else.

For a horrible moment, the breath is squeezed from my lungs and I can't even speak. Then we burst into an open square in front of the enormous television studio building.

People spread and disperse. I can finally breathe again.

I intended to find a cab and head for home. Another group of people are standing in front of the studio. They haven't spotted me yet. Apparently, those people in the alley were only there for the argument they witnessed. Once they got what they wanted, they've dropped me like a sack of potatoes.

If I go back now, would he still be there? If I called, would he answer?

No. I've made my decision. I need to stick to it.

In the distance, a siren blares.

With a sigh, I turn down a smaller street and avoid the main square. I'll get a taxi once I make it a few blocks and I've lost the crowd.

The sirens are closer now. I hope no one was hurt in the surge.

A sick, unsettled feeling in the pit of my stomach makes me ice over.

It's not—

The sirens are even closer. They must be only a few blocks away.

The sound cuts out.

I don't know how. Don't ask me. Somehow I just know.

"Ronan!" It's stupid. He's huge! There's no way he would have been hurt.

What if something happened, though? A fight. A mugging. My mind skims over ridiculous possibilities as I run.

I'm wrong.

I'm probably wrong.

I'm panting as I round the corner. The ambulance has parked so it takes up most of the narrow alley where the back exit to the studio is. I almost fall when my worst fears are confirmed.

His muscular body is laid out on a stretcher. A huge, bulky troll in a white paramedic's uniform lifts the stretcher and begins loading him into the back of the ambulance. The stricken look on his face makes me ache. "Oh, my god. Ronan!"

I rush toward him, but a stocky human woman, wearing the same uniform as the troll, bars my way. "Ma'am. Only family are allowed."

"That's my wife!" Ronan pushes himself to sit on the stretcher, making it almost overbalance.

The troll curses.

I'm so astonished, I almost fall over my feet. "I am? I mean... I am!" I've come to a stop next to the stretcher, but all I can do is stare at Ronan looking weaker than I've ever seen him.

The troll pushes Ronan into the ambulance, hauls me into the back and shuts the door.

"What's going on back there?" The driver shouts back.

The troll grunts. "Kuna?"

Ronan nods solemnly. I have no idea what they're talking about, but my heartbeat is somewhere in my throat and my eyes prick with tears.

"Monster stuff. Just go," the troll calls to his companion.

She mutters under her breath, "We're gonna be in so much trouble for this." But she switches on the sirens and we're away.

The troll straps Ronan to a machine, fixing something on his arm and sticky patches on his chest.

We're all so squashed in the back of the ambulance there's hardly room to move, but somehow the big monster manages it with his thick fingers.

"Justine, you ran off so fast after the show, I couldn't talk to you."

The troll hands Ronan a glass of water and a tablet. "Take this."

"What is it?" He eyes it skeptically.

"Aspirin. Take it." The troll pushes it toward him. "How's the chest pain?"

Ronan looks a little sheepish. "Better now."

The troll chuckles. "Your kuna, alright!"

I open my mouth to ask what a kuna is, but the ambulance swerves around a corner and I'm knocked into the brawny side of the paramedic.

"Let's not jump to conclusions, though." The troll glances at the monitor. "Is there any history of heart disease in your family?"

"My father."

The troll's frown deepens and despite all my reservations, I reach out for Ronan's hand. My heart pounds as we race toward the hospital and I worry about what might happen to Ronan. "It's going to be alright," I mutter. I'm not sure if I'm talking to myself or to him.

"Hang in there," the driver says from the front seat. "Almost there."

The monitor attached to Ronan beeps loudly. He struggles to sit up.

"Lie down and try to stay calm," the troll says.

Ronan ignores him. "Justine, I made a mistake. I have to talk to you."

The machine goes crazy. The beeps speed up to a flurry.

The troll swears. "Sir, lie down."

"I would lie down, but this is rather urgent, if you don't mind." Ronan fixes him with an icy stare that the troll completely ignores.

"Justine, I shouldn't have said what I said about not wanting a wife. About not wanting you. The second I thought you would walk away, I knew what an ass I'd been. Please forgive me?"

I blink back tears and wish I knew what to say around the lump in my throat.

At that moment, the ambulance comes to a sudden stop. The troll flings open the doors and pulls out the stretcher with Ronan. I scramble after them.

"Justine! Please marry me. For real this time!" Ronan is fighting the paramedic who is forcing him back onto the stretcher.

The stocky human storms around from the driver's seat. "I thought you said y'all were married!"

Ronan sighs. "It's complicated."

The short woman folds her arms and glares at him. "I don't care if it's rocket science, if she's not your wife, then she's not going in with you."

"Wait!" Ronan bellows, still struggling.

The troll pushes him back down again. "By the earth mother, if you won't stay still, I'll strap you down. You can propose when we've worked out if you're having a heart attack or not."

Ronan shoots me an imploring look as they wheel him away. "Wait for me!"

I stare as they rush him through the doors and into Emergency.

He's going to be OK. He has to be OK. He can't die.

I also don't know if this changes anything between us. Not if all he wants me to do is wait again. I've been waiting for months. What's to say that as soon as he recovers, he won't go back to his old stubborn self? Surely a scare like this is exactly what he was afraid of. Wasn't that his reason for not wanting a wife and kids in the first place?

I stagger to a bench by the curb and sit. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I hold it in my hands without unlocking the screen.

Am I just letting myself get caught again in his spell?

Eventually, the paramedics return. I only notice because the troll stops beside me and waits until I look up into his big rocky face. "He's stable for now. They'll know more soon. I thought you should know if you really are his kuna."

I try to ask what it means, but he's already hurrying off, most likely to another emergency.

I sigh.

I'm glad Ronan's going to be alright. Now I need to think about how I respond to his question. And I need to do it somewhere I can think carefully before I decide.

Unlocking my phone, I send a message.

Justine: I need some time to think. I need to be sure it's what you actually want and what I want too. I'll call you