by Gia Riley
“I was being stupid.”
“It’s not stupid to cry. You don’t have to hide from me. It’s okay to be sad.”
As expected, she shrugs off my concern, making her emotions seem insignificant.
“You walked in at a bad time. I was having a rough mom moment. That’s all.”
I notice the chicken tenders scattered on the floor in the corner of the room, breadcrumbs leaving a trail all the way to Laney’s bed. Megan’s doing an excellent job taking care of her daughter, but from the looks of it, she’s already neglecting herself. “Have you eaten?”
The second her cheeks redden, I have my answer. Her eyes slowly roam to the crumbs on the floor, and I hate that she’s ashamed of them. “I took a bite before I dozed off, but Laney woke up screaming for me a little bit ago. I got up so fast, I forgot I had food on my lap.”
Covering her face with her hands to hide her fresh tears, I hate that she’s still trying to hide from me. I want to see her—raw and unfiltered.
“Look at me,” I tell her, as I pull her fingers away from her face. Nothing this beautiful should ever be covered up.
With her eyes still glistening with tears, she allows herself to be vulnerable for the first time. Like she’s giving me a gift, I try to absorb the desperation in her eyes, the silent begging for me to take this pain away from her daughter and to make her life normal again.
But she completely knocks me off balance when she says, “Garrett, I’m scared. What if something happens tomorrow? Tonight could be the last night I have with my daughter.”
Within seconds, I’m on my knees in front of her, pulling her into my arms until she’s wrapped around my chest, holding on like her life depends on it. This is the first time I’ve ever held her like this, yet she feels so at home in my arms, it’s like she’s always belonged here.
There’s no denying how much I want her, and as she wraps her arms tighter around my back, clinging to me for the support I promised her, I realize just how much. How much I want to keep Connor away from her and how much I want to make Laney whole again.
“I’ll be with Laney the whole time. I promise I’ll take care of her like she’s my own.”
“Right now I wish she was,” she mumbles against my suit jacket.
At first her words stun me, but I don’t regret hearing them. If I’m being honest, a part of me wishes Laney was my little girl. That Megan was mine and that the three of us could leave this hospital together, without having to worry about Connor. At least then neither of them would have to mourn the loss of him as a father or as a husband.
Megan pulls away from me, hiding her face in her hands again. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Here you are offering your support and I’m talking complete nonsense.”
“It’s not nonsense. I get it.”
“Do you really? Or are you just saying that to make me feel better?”
“I mean it. You couldn’t scare me away if you tried, Megs.” Her tears have made her eyes more blue than gray, and they shred me to pieces as she looks at me.
“I guess I got caught up in the moment.”
“Is that what this is?” I ask her. “A moment?” God, I want it to be something. Anything.
“It can’t be—I’m still married, Garrett. Even if it’s over.”
I want to tell her she isn’t married, that we can do whatever feels right. But it’s not my place to reveal the truth no matter how much it hurts to keep it inside. All I can do is swipe my thumbs across her cheeks, catching her fallen tears. “Please don’t cry. It kills me to see you so sad.”
“Why can’t he be like you, Garret? Why did Connor have to do this to us?”
There’s easily a million different responses I could give her, none of them doing Connor a bit of justice. Not that he deserves it. Still, I don’t want to win her heart by bashing her past. That’s not how I operate.
Whether she’s feeling something for me in return or not, this gorgeous woman doesn’t deserve the hand she’s been dealt, so I won’t try to remind her how awful Connor really is.
“They can’t all be studs like me, you know,” I tell her jokingly, hoping to erase her frown.
She gives me a pathetic little laugh like she doesn’t think she deserves to smile right now. Even though it’s still full of her sadness, it’s still the best sound I’ve heard all night.
“You always were so sure of yourself, Dr. Kristoff.”
I shake my head because she’s completely wrong. “I was always sure about you. I didn’t have a clue about much else.”
She lets go of me and grabs a tissue out of her pocket before moving to her chair in the corner. I liked it better when she was holding onto my arms, her nails digging into the fabric of my dress shirt just enough to make it real. But as nice as our connection was, I let her go because I need a minute, too.
I take my time cleaning up the mess of chicken by her feet, hoping once it’s gone she’ll forget about Laney’s nightmare.
“I can get that, Garrett. You don’t have to.”
“It’s fine. I told you I’m here to help.”
She watches me while I wipe the crumbs off the floor with a napkin. I can feel her eyes on me, and hell if I don’t love having her attention.
After I throw the trash in the waste can, I turn around, expecting to see her still watching me. Only she looks away so fast, it’s like she’s embarrassed for staring.
Not wanting her to shut down, I kneel in front of her, resting my hands on either side of her thighs. “What’s going on in your head right now?” I ask her, hoping she’ll be honest with me.
If she were to ask me the same question, I’m not sure I’d be able to tell her the whole truth, but I’d give her enough that she’d feel special and never doubt how much I care about her.
“Everything and nothing,” she says. “I wish the accident never happened, but if it hadn’t, I’d still be clueless about my husband sleeping with another woman. Vanessa tells me everything happens for a reason, but if Laney getting hurt was the only way to find out, then I’d rather be left in the dark about all of it.”
“I believe you want your daughter safe, but I don’t think you’d want to be left in the dark about Connor. You’re stronger than that.”
She shrugs, neither agreeing nor disagreeing at first. “I guess not. It’s probably my exhaustion talking, but I can’t go back to him, Garrett. I can’t even stand to look at our house let alone live inside of it. She was waiting for him in our kitchen like she lived there, drinking my wine and everything.”
“It’s not my place to tell you what to do, but since we’re doing this whole honesty thing, I have no problem coming right out and telling you that I don’t want you going back to that house, either.”
Her bottom lip quivers like she knows I’m speaking the truth. “I just can’t believe she had a key. She was in my house, waiting for my family to come home.”
“He’s such a bastard, Megan. A piece of shit bastard who never deserved you.”
My next move is abrupt, and not at all how I wanted to give it to her, but between her tears and the need to make her smile again, I shove my hand in my pants pocket and pull out the key to my house. Without hesitation, I reach for her hand and slip it into her palm.
I feel the questions brewing as her eyebrows pull together. Before she has a chance to say a single word or tell me she can’t accept it, I place my finger over her lips, silencing her. “Let me explain.
“Okay,” she says with a slow nod.
“I’m dressed up because I had a date tonight.”
“Oh,” she whispers. “I meant to tell you how nice you looked before I got all teary. Even better than the scrubs.”
“Thank you.” Her compliment makes my pants a little tighter, like I’m back in high school again, wishing I was the one walking her to her next class.
“Where’s your date? Shouldn’t you be with her instead of sitting in the hospital?”
I’m positive she does
n’t mean to sound as bitter as she does, though I secretly love the little bit of jealousy I hear in her words.
I reach for her hand again, making sure she listens to me. “Hear me out, okay?”
She nods, but not without apprehension. “You’re scaring me a little, but keep going.”
“Grace set me up on a blind date tonight. I was reluctant to go, but she swore it would be worth it. She told me I was going on my last first date. Of course, I told her she was insane, but I went along with her plan anyway because I owed her.”
“Was she right?” she questions, as she chews on her thumbnail.
“Yes and no. It’s a little complicated.”
“I don’t understand, Garrett. What are you saying?”
I look her straight in the eyes when I tell her, “The date was with Vanessa.”
Her eyes bulge out of her head and she sucks in her next breath like she has to fight for it to reach her lungs. “My sister, Vanessa?”
“Yes, but let me finish. It’s not what you think.”
She tries to claw her way out of the chair she’s sitting in, but I stop her before she can get away. I don’t want her to go anywhere until I finish what I’m trying to say, but I see the moment she checks out of the conversation as she crosses her arms over her chest and leans back in the rocker, as far away from me as she can get.
I’m the last person she needs to protect herself from, though that’s exactly what she’s doing. I’m the one who wants to be with her for all the right reasons. I’m the one who deserves a chance.
“You can go out with whoever you want, Garrett. You don’t have to come here to explain it to me.” She tries again to stand up, and this time I let her. As she moves around me, she says, “It doesn’t bother me one way or another.”
She’s so full of shit. If she didn’t care, she wouldn’t look so defeated. “Not even a little?” I ask her, hoping this isn’t when she’s going to decide to lie to me.
Her hands are on her hips as she spins around to face me. She looks like she wants to rip my balls off and stuff them down my throat. I’m actually glad, because at least she’s feeling something.
“Not even a little,” she says, unconvincingly.
“I think you’re lying, Megs.”
“Why are you rubbing it in my face? I mean, my sister, Garrett. Really? Out of all the people in the world, you had to pick her?”
This is the Megan I know. The one who calls me out on my shit. The one who challenges me when she doesn’t agree with something I’m doing. And the one who tells me to shut up when she can’t take another sound coming out of my mouth.
“For starters, I had nothing to do with it. Grace set me up, but will you please sit back down so I can explain? There’s a method to the madness. I promise.”
She puts her hands up in surrender and backs away from me again. “No, I think I’ve heard enough for one night. You need to go home and sleep so you can fix my little girl in the morning. That’s all I care about right now.”
I watch as she brushes the back of her hand across Laney’s cheek. It’s impossible not to stare at the love she has for her daughter.
“Megan, please.”
She turns her head but keeps her body facing away from me. Completely void of emotion, even the angry spark she shot at me a minute ago, she says, “Garrett, not tonight.”
She can tell me no tonight, and I’ll listen, but this isn’t the end of our conversation. Tonight I’ll respect her wishes, but I have every intention of explaining myself once Laney’s surgery is over.
“Promise me you’ll try to get some rest, Megs.”
“Is that your way of telling me I look like hell?”
Shaking my head, I see how poorly I went about telling her the story. She’s going to be pissed about everything I say now. Still, I want her to know what I really think, so I don’t hold back and tell her, “You’re always beautiful. You couldn’t look like shit if you tried.”
She doesn’t throw back a smart ass comment. In fact, she doesn’t say anything at all—and that bothers me more than anything she could have said.
I watch her for a few more seconds, wishing I could stay here all night with her. “The key I gave you is to my house. It’s the old Grayson place. Once Laney’s discharged, there’s enough space for the both of you to come stay with me.”
I expect her to go ape shit or to toss the key in my face, but all I get is a simple, “What?”
“You’re not going back home, Megan. Simple as that.”
“I wasn’t planning on it,” she whispers.
“Good, I’m glad we agree. The house will be ready for you by the time Laney’s released. You can come sooner if you want to escape for a little while. Nobody would blame you if you needed to leave this place.”
She stares at the key in her hand, nodding as she runs her fingertip over the inscription. It’s as much of an answer as I’m going to get from her right now, and it’ll have to be enough.
Megan
THERE ARE SO MANY THINGS I wanted to say to Garrett before he left, but I froze up, instead keeping everything locked inside. He deserved some kind of validation or thank you for his kindness, but I’m not good when it comes to expressing my feelings. I never have been.
Connor always joked that he’s more hearts and flowers than I am, which isn’t saying much. It was something I was working on—until I found out he was playing me. That he’s been playing me.
The gifts and attention he showered me with were never given to me out of love. They were fueled by guilt to make himself feel better.
But the key I have in my hand, the answer to my prayers, wasn’t anything like that. There’s a chance Garrett gave it to me because he felt obligated, being my friend and all, but the look in his eyes as he knelt down in front of me told me otherwise.
Nothing about the way he held my hand felt like pity. He wanted me, and that’s a line Garrett and I have never crossed before. It’s a line I wouldn’t be able to cross no matter how much I care for him as a person, physician, and friend. At least not while my life is a complete mess.
For the first time in days, my stomach growls thanks to whatever Garrett brought me in the paper bag sitting on the table. As I unroll the top and peer inside, I smile. He’s filled it with some of my favorite foods from when we were kids. The lemon pies in the old-fashioned white cardboard box, a container of tomato soup, and a sandwich wrapped in brown paper. The sticker on top is proof it came from the best deli in town, the one my classmates ate at after school on early dismissal days. He even tossed in a couple candy canes—Laney’s favorite holiday treat.
Part of me is surprised he went to so much trouble. But the rational part of me realizes Garrett’s the kind of guy to do the right thing—to take the extra step with no questions asked.
This meal wasn’t given to me out of guilt. Garrett truly cares about me and my daughter, and I enjoy every bite, each one more comforting than the last, because he’s given me a little piece of home in the middle of hell.
When the third shift nurse who’s making her rounds walks into the room, I almost spill my soup. “How is she?” I ask her with a mouthful. She should have the latest lab results they drew earlier.
“Everything looks great,” she tells me. “There’s no sign of infection or fever. As long as things stay like this, she’ll be ready for surgery in the morning.”
“That’s such a relief. Thank you,” I tell her as I sit back down.
She presses a couple buttons on the monitors and resets Laney’s IV. Once she’s finished, she reaches into her pocket, and pulls out an envelope. “Dr. Kristoff left this for you at the desk. I’m sorry I didn’t bring it back sooner.”
“That’s okay. Thank you,” I tell her as I take it from her hand, stuffing it into the pocket of my oversized sweater. I didn’t check if it was sealed, and I pray she hasn’t looked inside.
By the time I open the sofa bed and fix the sheets, it’s burning a hole in my pocket. But I
can barely keep my eyes open. When I do let them close for a second, Garrett’s mahogany eyes are staring back at me. I’m reminded of the warmth of his hand and how strong and comforting his arms felt when he wrapped them around me and held me as I cried. It’s been so long since I’ve felt protected like that.
Garrett may have had a date with Vanessa tonight, but he came to the hospital for me. That thought alone has me reaching into my pocket and pulling out the envelope I was too nervous to read until now.
As my eyes scan his chicken scratch, I was half expecting information about the surgery tomorrow and half expecting it to be so much more than that. The words scrawled across the paper nothing to do with Laney. It’s Garrett’s personal cell phone number.
Next to his number, there’s a little arrow telling me to turn the piece of paper over. When I do, the words, ‘use it’ are written in big, bold letters.
Even after all these years, he knows me well enough to realize I’d sit here staring at the numbers for hours, debating if he really wanted me to call him or not.
Now that it’s clear as day what he wants, I reach across the table for my purse on the chair. Once I find my phone, I add his name and number to my contact list, and then I type out a text. I hate that I’m so nervous to message him, and my heart is hammering like he’s a stranger instead of a friend.
Megan: Thank you for dinner.
Like it’s on fire, I let go of my phone. Laughing at how ridiculous I’m being over a stupid text message, one he might not even respond to, I’m already debating what to say back to him.
Seconds later, the screen lights up with his name. He’s awake.
Garrett: You’re welcome, Megs.
I’ve never been a big fan of nicknames, but the way he shortens my name is simple—like him. What you see is what you get with Garrett, and right now, that’s pretty refreshing. Unlike Connor, he doesn’t pretend to be someone he’s not.
Megan: You remembered my favorites.
Garrett: I remember everything about you.
The comfort he gave me as soon as I opened that paper bag doesn’t even come close to what I feel right now. Sure, I’m still married, and I’m in no place to be flirting with another man, but the company and the companionship, that’s something I can handle and exactly what I need. It’s something that won’t give him the wrong impression.