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Half of Me

Page 7

by J. M. Paul


  “Now, you feel like you can?” I bark at him.

  What he’s asking to learn puts me on the defensive because it’s extremely personal. Way more private than two people starting to get to know each other.

  He blinks at my abrupt change of mood.

  The tension sits between us until I finally exhale, trying to release the stiffness that instantly pinched my shoulders and neck. Jacob has to sense the unease the change in conversation has placed around us, but he doesn’t back down. His steady stare stays glued to mine, demanding I tell him the information he wants to know.

  My free hand slinks down to cover my abdomen, but I don’t realize what I did until Jacob’s gaze follows the motion. When he regards me again, his eyes are gentle and full of understanding, but I can tell he won’t let the subject go until I give him something.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

  I wait for him to say something, to apologize for pressing me for details I’m not ready to give, but he continues to sit and watch me. It makes me squirm in my seat, and a feeling of dread swirls in my stomach.

  As soon as I tell him everything about my surgery, he’ll turn his back on me as fast as Brett did. Jacob and I just met, but I feel like I’ve known him for years, maybe forever. And my heart is gaping, bleeding over the fact that I had my choices literally ripped from me and that I lost a man I thought I was going to build my life with.

  A girl can only take so much shit until she starts to build walls around herself. After my mediocre childhood and recent horrific experiences, my walls are made of cinder block, and not even a sledgehammer can break through their tough exterior.

  Maybe except for Jacob’s gorgeous and intense blue eyes.

  His attention hits me right in the gut. I find I want to share what happened to me, but I can’t expose myself to the hurt the possible outcome might bring. Making a quick decision, I decide to tell him what caused the surgery, not the complete result of the situation.

  “I had abdominal surgery a couple of weeks ago,” I say.

  “So you’ve told me.” He lifts our hands to his lips and says against my skin, “But I want to know what was done and how your health is now.”

  “I’ll be fine.” I shrug, trying to play off the subject as nothing.

  He drops our hands back to his lap. “Joslyn.” My name is a warning that he won’t tolerate my evasive answers any longer.

  Like a pouting two-year-old, I release an annoyed sigh. “I have endometriosis.”

  His face tightens as he draws his brows together. “My apologies, but what exactly is endometriosis?”

  A stupid fucking disease that makes your life miserable, turns everything upside down, and then steals your hopes and dreams like a dirty, selfish thief.

  I might be a bit bitter.

  “It’s where cells from the uterine lining grow outside of the uterus. They attach to other organs, bind them together, and cause internal lesions and horrendous pain. Basically, in my mind, it’s like glue that makes your insides stick together, which is unbelievably painful and causes a world of problems.”

  His forehead crinkles. “That sounds miserable.”

  “You have no idea.”

  “I don’t.”

  He leans forward, his knee brushing against mine, and cups my cheek in his hand. The warmth of him spreads throughout the cold and aching parts of me.

  “But I am sorry you’ve had to suffer.” Rubbing his thumb along my cheek, he gives me a sad smile. “I assume the surgery was to cure your endometriosis?”

  Pulling my hand from his, away from his touch, I sit forward and run my hands through my long blonde hair.

  “There’s no cure; it can only be treated.” Although performing a Wertheim’s hysterectomy helps ensure almost all of the endometriosis is removed, so there is nothing left to produce it further.

  “What do they do to treat it?” Jacob asks.

  Thank goodness he asked about overall treatment and not mine specifically.

  “They use various medications to help prohibit the foreign cells from growing and laparoscopic surgeries to cauterize and remove them when they become troublesome.” It’s the truth but only for the victims dealing with a minor or moderate case of endometriosis, not my advanced situation.

  “Are you in pain now?” His voice is laced with concern.

  I shake my head. “Not bad. I’m still recovering from my procedure, but I’ll be okay once I heal completely.” Maybe my physical body will recover, but my spirit is another aspect entirely.

  “And here I am, forcing you to sit in an uncomfortable chair and stay the night in the hospital. You should be healing in the comfort of your home, not here with me.” His words seem apologetic, but his eyes are pleading with me to stay.

  My attention focuses on Jenna still sleeping soundly and then back on Jacob. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

  “Me either,” he whispers.

  Those two words set my chest on fire with longing and hope. Two feelings I should not experience when in the presence of one of my patient’s dads.

  I shake my head, trying to get rid of every inappropriate thought swirling around there, but the late hour is playing havoc with my feelings.

  There’s no way I can completely fall for this man in the few short days we’ve known each other…is there?

  CHAPTER 8

  * * *

  FADES TO BLACK

  Jenna is being released today. A part of me is happy she’s healthy enough, but a larger part of me is greedy and sad she’s leaving me. We’ve connected in a way I didn’t realize was possible for a woman and baby to bond without sharing blood between the two.

  Now, I’ll never be able to see her again, to hold her, to talk and sing to her, or to watch her sparkling blue eyes focus on me.

  After today, I also won’t have a reason to communicate with or see Jacob or Jagger. Over the last couple of weeks, I’ve grown increasingly close to them. Now, I feel like I’m facing the death of a loved one, and they haven’t even left yet.

  “How’re you doing?” Maya comes up beside me and rubs my shoulder.

  I’m hovering over Jenna, making sure everything is set for her to be transferred home. She was weaned from the ventilator last week, and she’s doing well. Over the next several weeks, she’ll require extra care, but there’s no reason to believe she won’t make a full recovery.

  “Good.” I check and recheck Jenna’s going-home bag.

  When I turn in circles, searching for anything I might have missed to pack for her, I notice Maya standing with her hands on her hips, scowling at me.

  “What?”

  “Don’t lie to me, Jos. If you’re about to fall apart, you do it around me. I’m your best friend through thick and thin, so that means I signed up to love and support you at your worst and craziest.” Walking closer, she grins. “And be thankful for that because you can throw down some batshit crazy when you get going.” She winks.

  I bark out a laugh and then tear up.

  Maya wraps me in a hug. “I know, Jos. I know.”

  Without me saying a word, she understands this is breaking me up inside. I haven’t completed my graduate program, and I’ve already broken my number one rule—don’t get emotionally involved and attached to a patient. In this line of work, it’s important to care and have empathy but to never let your emotions get wrapped up in the situation or outcome. I’m supposed to work to the best of my ability and make sure the patient is well cared for and comfortable and that the parents of the infant know all the facts. End. Of. Story.

  I’ve royally messed up.

  After I’ve shed a few tears, I pull back from Maya and brush my fingers over my cheeks. I can’t have the fellow nurses or the doctors see me getting weepy.

  “It’s Friday,” she says, like that’s supposed to make me feel better. “Let’s get through our shift. We’ll watch this precious little one receive the honor of going home, where she should’ve been all al
ong”—she gives me a knowing look to remind me that it’s the ultimate goal—“and then we’ll go home, get in our pajamas, have a marathon of watching chick flicks, and pig out on junk food all night.” Placing her hands on the sides of my face, she gazes into my eyes. “Sound good?”

  “Mmhmm,” is all I can offer. It all sounds well and good but much easier said than done.

  “Hi,” Jacob’s voice interrupts.

  Maya and I both straighten and turn, like we’ve been caught doing something wrong.

  “H-hi.” I lift my hand and give a limp wave.

  I’m such an awkward dork.

  “Everything okay?” Jacob’s gaze wanders from mine over to Jenna lying in her crib.

  Jenna was transferred over to a regular bed when she was taken off the ventilator. She’s kicking her feet and watching me. It’s almost as if she’s excited because she knows she gets to break free of this place, yet she’s not ready to let me go either.

  “Yes, everything’s great,” I say in too high of a voice.

  Maya and Jacob give me puzzled expressions.

  Pull yourself together, Stone.

  “I was getting Jenna’s things together.” I point to the bag sitting on the visitor chair. “As soon as Doctor Garvin gives her the all-clear and the paperwork is done, you can take your daughter home.” I flash him a genuine smile, stunned I’m capable of doing so.

  My heart swells for him and Jagger. They get to take home the last gift that Juliana ever gave them, but inside, I’m shriveling. But, for Jacob’s sake, I need to push my sadness aside and woman up.

  My and Jacob’s eyes connect and hold. It’s as if everything else in the room doesn’t exist, and the only thing that matters is the space between us. This is it for us as well, and I feel the realization settling like lead in the pit of my stomach.

  “Well, I should check on the other patients,” Maya says. “I wish you the best of luck, Mr. Ancroft. Jenna is a little angel.”

  “Thank you, Maya.” Jacob’s eyes remain on mine.

  Maya leaves, and Jacob and I are caught in each other until Jenna lets out a small cry.

  Walking to her crib, Jacob bends forward, his lips set in a grim line. “What’s wrong?”

  Not trusting myself to move closer to him, I remain anchored to the spot. “She probably has a little gas. We fed her about fifteen minutes ago.”

  “Oh.” He reaches down and brushes his fingers over her head.

  She quiets some but still fusses.

  After a few seconds, he whispers, “I don’t know if I can do this.”

  The aching in his voice surprises me, and I move to stand next to him. “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know if I can do this alone.” He exhales, and his shoulders sag. “Raise an active and curious four-year-old, bring home a newborn who requires extra care, run the house and my company. Work requires a lot of my attention, and I don’t want it to overtake my role as a dad, as I’ve let it do before.” He licks his lips. “I’m Superman to everyone around me, but behind closed doors, I’m just a regular guy, trying to get his shit together.”

  He gives me a small smile to try to lighten the seriousness of his statement, but I can see the worry etched in the crinkles of his forehead and around his eyes.

  “You can do this, and you’ll be great.” I place my hand over his on the edge of the crib. “It’s going to be difficult, no doubt, but all you can do is take it one day at a time. You’ll figure things out. The most important thing you can do is love your kids and let them know they’re loved. For the short time I’ve known you, I’ve seen nothing but adoration flow from you to your two children. Keep that up, and the rest will work itself out.”

  Jacob steps forward, so only inches separate us. “You’re remarkable, Joslyn.”

  Lifting his hand, he rests his soft palm against the side of my neck. Goose bumps break out along me.

  “Give me your phone number.” He tightens his fingers against my skin.

  My heart soars at the fact that he doesn’t want whatever’s happening between us to end, but the nagging sensation of my morals pricks at the back of my skull. And, as I’ve had to remind myself many times before, this can’t happen, even after Jenna leaves this hospital. I’m unable to understand why, but it feels inappropriate to have a possible relationship with a past patient’s father. I know intimate details of their family’s medical history, information the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act (HIPAA) safeguards. I’m not certain of the legalities of past patients’ rights, but I don’t want to ruin my career before it starts.

  Jenna is one patient among many, and Jacob is one father of a patient among countless. If I’m lucky, I will have this career for the rest of my life. It’s what I’ve wanted since I was a child, and I’ve busted my behind to make it this far. I can’t destroy everything I’ve worked for because my hormones go haywire whenever this man is around.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Against everything in me, I pull away from his touch.

  His arm falls to his side, and I swear, I see a flash of irritation move over his face before he schools his features.

  “Why?”

  It’s a simple question that doesn’t have an easy answer.

  “We live different lives, Jacob. I’m just getting started in life and my career, and I take my work very seriously. Getting involved with patients or their parents isn’t exactly on the up-and-up of the moral code of conduct for a nurse.” I scratch my ear and then pull at the collar of my Minnie Mouse scrubs.

  “In a few hours, Jenna won’t be your patient; therefore, I won’t be the father of one of your patients. Your reasoning will be a moot point.” He lifts his brow and smirks.

  “Maybe, but it’s how we met, and…” I shift.

  “And?” he prompts.

  “And I think it’s better if we leave this”—I gesture between us—“here.” The words coming out of my mouth feel wrong, but I force them out regardless.

  “That’s bullshit, Joslyn, and you know it.” He steps closer, so our bodies are touching.

  I want to melt into him at the contact, but instead, my eyes dart around the space, trying to gauge if anyone’s watching us.

  “Why are you fighting this?” He places his hand on my hip, wraps his fingers around me, and pulls me even closer.

  Heat flares in my chest and shoots downward to settle low in my stomach.

  “Why are you fighting me?”

  Squeezing my eyes closed, I breathe through my nose. It’s a mistake because Jacob’s musky, clean scent assaults my senses and makes my mouth water.

  Pull yourself together, Joslyn.

  “Jacob…” I try to protest, but my body proves it has a mind of its own by softening against his.

  The submissive action causes a growl to rumble low in his chest.

  “We could be great together, Joslyn. Your body tells me you want this as much as I do.”

  Finding strength within myself, I push him away. “You’re wrong.”

  My chest is rising and falling hard with each breath. Jacob’s is the same.

  We stand, almost toe-to-toe, intently staring at each other. I’m not certain if we’re about to duel or rip each other’s clothes off in the middle of the hospital with everyone watching, including his innocent daughter.

  Jacob opens his mouth to say something, but it’s cut off.

  “Mr. Ancroft, I’m glad you’re here,” Doctor Garvin says as he walks up.

  Turning quickly, I rummage through Jenna’s bag, trying to make myself seem busy, as if nothing inappropriate was going on between Jacob and me. Jacob turns back to Jenna’s crib.

  Peeking out of the corner of my eyes, I see Doctor Garvin’s head swivel between Jacob and me, taking in our awkward posture and behavior. He’s a keen man, and I’m certain he can sense something is off between the two of us.

  “Is everything all right, Mr. Ancroft?” Doctor Garvin asks Jacob.

  “Yes, thank you
.” Jacob runs a hand through his tousled dark hair.

  The movement causes his muscles to flex, and even though I swore myself off of him, my mouth waters at the thought of licking the outline of that toned arm.

  “Joslyn?” Doctor Garvin addresses me.

  “Yes, Doctor. I was getting Jenna’s bag ready.” I point to the patterned MZ Wallace diaper bag. I’m nosy, and I examined the tag because I could smell money sewn all over this beauty.

  “Well then, I’m here to tell you that Jenna is clear to leave the hospital.” Doctor Garvin walks over and studies Jenna. “You have a strong little warrior on your hands, Mr. Ancroft. I hope you’re ready for her.”

  I can hear the smile in his voice.

  “I figure she’ll give me a run for my money, but I’m certain she’ll also have me wrapped around her finger, so it won’t matter.” Jacob laughs.

  Doctor Garvin pats him on the shoulder and moves to walk around him. “Good luck, and don’t hesitate to call us if you have any questions or concerns.”

  Jacob nods his head once. “Will do. Thank you, Doctor. I appreciate all you’ve done for her.”

  “It’s what we’re here for.” Doctor Garvin dips his head and leaves to check on another patient.

  Before Jacob and I have a chance to say anything to each other, Susan bursts into the area to take over the discharge. Since I’m only an intern, I let her take charge. While Susan goes over the paperwork and instructions with Jacob, I sidle up next to Jenna’s crib and smile down at her glowing face.

  I run my finger along her brow, down her nose, and to her ear. “Good-bye, sweet Jenna. I’ll miss you.”

  Jenna kicks her legs and then clenches my finger in her tiny fist. We watch each other—me knowing this will be the last time I see her, and her taking comfort in having someone familiar near her.

  “Okay, I guess that’s it. Are you ready to take this cutie patootie home?” Susan asks Jacob.

  Tears swim in my eyes as my heart fissures in my chest. Saying good-bye to people I’ve grown attached to deeply saddens me. The sliver of light I still had glowing inside me slowly fades to black.

 

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