She lifted her hands in the air and winced. “He called me. What was I supposed to do? Not tell him you’re in the hospital?”
“Why the hell did he call you?”
Josie’s eyes left mine abruptly to stare out the window. Since it was fully dark by now, I knew there was nothing to see and she was just avoiding me. “Josephine.”
She sighed. “Mackenzie.”
“Spill.”
She sighed again, her shoulders rising and falling with the movements. “He called to ask if you’d really stayed with me all week.”
“That son of a b–”
“So!” she yelled over my colorful language. “Once I cursed him out enough for the both of us,” she winked, “I told him you’d been in a car accident and where you were. He was here twenty minutes later. He hasn’t moved from that chair until now.”
Her words made something deep inside me squeeze tightly, but I ignored it. “I can’t believe he called you. I can’t believe he really didn’t trust me.”
“Maybe this is good, Mack. Clearly, he was having trouble believing you and now that he’s gotten your story corroborated, maybe you two can start really working on things.”
“There’s nothing to work on.”
She sighed. “You don’t mean that.”
“He told me not to come home, Jos.”
She sighed again and hung her head. “Sometimes people say things when they’re hurting that they don’t mean. You should know that better than most people.”
I couldn’t help wincing at her words, but she was right, damn her. I did know what it was like to say things I didn’t mean just because I was hurting. I’d done it for years. And Bryson had stuck around through all of it. Did he deserve the same from me?
I shook my head in an effort to dislodge the thoughts. “I don’t think your optimism is warranted here this time, Jos. I think we’ve done too much damage. I think things have gone too far. We can’t find a way back from this.”
Her eyes were wide and sad as they met mine. “Are you sure you’re ready to give up, Mack?”
I swallowed harshly and looked away, knowing she’d read what I was thinking on my face and I needed to be alone with my thoughts. Needed to think, to figure out what him being here meant. What I wanted and needed. What I was willing to put up with.
But the hammering in my head was scrambling my thoughts. Just like the heat from Bryson’s hand that I could still feel on my fingers was twisting my insides.
Nothing made sense. Everything was upside down and wrong. How had we gotten to this point? If I had to, I could put together a timeline of every mistake each of us had made, but I still couldn’t believe it all added up to this.
I’d told Josie we couldn’t come back from this, but the truth was, I didn’t know how we could possibly fix what we’d broke. Sometimes hurt ran too deep. Sometimes the mistrust clouded your vision too bad that you couldn’t see what was right in front of you. Sometimes you go too far, and you can’t take back what you’d done.
I didn’t know exactly where we were, and I was almost too afraid to find out.
Chapter 26
“Oh good, you’re awake,” Nurse Rita said as she walked into my hospital room. She frowned at my friend and then took a peek at her wristwatch. “And you shouldn’t be here.”
Josie threw up her hands. “I’m going, I’m going.” She walked up to my bed and leaned over to squeeze my shoulders. “I’ll be back in the morning.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“That’s non-negotiable.”
I sighed, and Josie’s smile widened. “See you in the morning, Mack.”
I waved goodbye as Rita poked around taking my vitals.
“How’s the head?” she asked.
“It feels better than before, but still hurts.”
She nodded. “That sounds about right. I can’t give you another dose of acetaminophen for another couple hours. You gonna’ be okay ‘till then?”
“I’ll make it,” I assured her.
The room door swung open and Bryson came walking through, carrying a plastic bag and a paper cup with a straw sticking out of it.
“And who are you?” Rita asked, hands positioned on her generous hips.
He walked over to the bedside and placed the bag and cup down. “I’m her husband, Bryson Thompson.”
Rita eyed my curiously. “Husband?”
I shrugged. “Technically.”
I saw Bryson shoot me a look out of the corner of my eye, but I ignored him. I wasn’t lying. We were barely married. It seemed the only thing keeping us together was the marriage license we signed almost four years ago, and the last name we shared.
Rita nodded, her dark, curly hair bouncing with the movements. “All right, he can stay. But if you upset her or disrupt her rest, you need to leave.”
“I’ll be on my best behavior,” Bryson promised, to which I snorted.
Rita eyed me again before heading toward the door. “I’ll be back in a few hours. Feel free to get some more sleep if you can and I’ll be by to wake you up.”
The nurse left, and I felt her absence immediately. Suddenly it was just me and Bryson, and I didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know how to feel or act in his presence anymore. So many of our interactions these past few months consisted of ignoring each other or fighting. Now that we could do neither, I didn’t know where that left us.
I could feel Bryson watching me, but I ignored him and instead picked at the peeling polish on my fingernails. He reached for the bag and dug out a Styrofoam container placing it on the retractable table in front of me.
“I got you a turkey sandwich,” he said quietly.
I couldn’t help the face I made.
Bryson paused. “I thought you liked turkey.”
I shrugged. “I did. I do. I just don’t know if I can eat it.”
He cocked his head to the side. “Why wouldn’t you be able to eat it?”
I sighed, amazed at how little my own husband knew about me and what my life had been like the past couple of weeks. It was like we were strangers.
“Most foods upset my stomach these days,” I admitted. “I’ve been pretty much living off of soup, and crackers.”
Bryson frowned. “Do you want me to get you some soup instead?”
I shook my head and reached for the sandwich container. “It’s fine.”
I pried open the lid, and the smell of the deli meat hit me like a punch to the face. Quickly covering the offending sandwich, I slid it as far away from me as I could. But, that wasn’t enough. Apparently, the damage had been done and my stomach was going to teach me a lesson for trying to eat something new.
My mouth watered as the bile rose in my throat and I sat up quickly and spun my legs around to hop off the bed. The abrupt movements made the room spin. I hung my head and breathed slowly through my mouth, hoping the dizziness would pass before the nausea couldn’t be ignored.
“Mackenzie?”
I waved him off and stood from the bed, immediately needing to place a hand on the wall to keep myself upright. Bryson stalked around the bed and grasped my elbow.
“What’s going on?”
I swallowed the excess saliva in my mouth and took another deep breath. “I need to get to the bathroom. Now.”
I pushed him aside and started my slow and steady progress toward the bathroom.
“Why? What’s going on?”
I rolled my eyes and shook my head but didn’t answer him. If he’d been around, he’d know. If he paid attention, he’d realize what was wrong with me. If he knew anything about my life, he’d know what was going on.
I made it to the bathroom and knelt in front of the toilet with just enough time to bend over before I got sick. I heard Bryson come in the room, but I ignored him. Getting sick wasn’t exactly something I wanted to share, but I couldn’t tell him to leave between the heaves.
He knelt next to me and pulled my hair away from my face. I tried to push him away, but
he remained by my side. Eventually, I felt the warmth of his big hand on my back as he rubbed soothing circles against my hospital gown.
When the sickness had finally passed, I let myself fall backward onto my butt and rested my shoulders against the wall. Bryson was still kneeling where I left him, and I worked to avoid his penetrating gaze.
“That happen often?” he finally asked.
I shrugged. “More than a few times a day, every day for the past two weeks.”
Bryson’s eyes widened, and his gaze fell from mine. Thankfully, he didn’t have any other questions as he walked over and helped me stand. He left me at the sink where I cleaned up with the toothbrush and paste provided by the hospital.
When I made it back into the hospital room, Bryson was standing near the door with the boxed sandwich in his hand. My stomach lurched, and I had to swallow to keep the nausea at bay. Bryson must have noticed my face turning green because he shoved the box behind his back and took a step toward the door.
“I’m going to get rid of this and get you some soup. Any preference?”
I waved him off. “Don’t bother. I think I’m just going to get some sleep. You can go home.”
He frowned. “You haven’t eaten in hours. Is that good for the baby?”
My eyes snapped to his. “What did you just say to me?”
His eyes were wide and pleading. “I’m just worried about you and the baby. I think you should eat something before you get some more rest.”
I wanted to fight. Wanted to rage, and argue and tell him to go to hell, but he wasn’t wrong. I hadn’t been eating much lately anyway and going so long without food couldn’t be good for the little life growing inside me. After everything that had happened today, I didn’t need to add malnourished to the list.
My shoulders slumped, and I dragged myself back to bed. “Fine. I’ll take some chicken noodle soup,” I called over my shoulder.
I didn’t miss the sigh of relief coming from Bryson before I heard the door open and close.
Was I being too hard on him?
Was I being too much of a bitch?
I felt justified in my anger. Maybe he’d had time to get over our fight, but it was still fresh in my mind as if it had just happened. And realistically, it had only been a few hours. Where had this turnabout come from? Why was he all of a sudden attentive and caring when he’d been distant and unfeeling for so long?
I didn’t trust these changes. Last time I’d thought things would be different, after the night of the office Christmas party, I’d had my heart broken when I woke up the next morning and everything was exactly the same as it had been. I didn’t want to set myself up for that kind of disappointment again. Didn’t want to put my heart on the line where it could be crushed and trampled. It was frail enough as it is. How many heartbreaks could I endure before the pieces couldn’t be put back together?
Bryson returned a few minutes later, and I was no closer to an answer. The best I could come up with was I’d be cautious while also giving him a chance. It wasn’t a big chance, just a tiny sliver, but it was there, and I couldn’t deny that it had a few of my hopes wrapped around it.
“They only had chicken and rice, is that okay?”
I shrugged. “Should be fine. The baby doesn’t seem to have anything against rice.”
A deep, breathy chuckle fell from his full lips and I repressed a shiver. God, this would be so much easier if my body didn’t still react to him this way.
Bryson set the container of soup in front of me and pulled a dozen packets of crackers from his pockets. I looked at him curiously and he shrugged, a sheepish smile on his face. “I didn’t know how many you’d eat but I wanted to be prepared.”
I shook my head but accepted the spoon he handed me and dug into the soup. It was tasty and immediately settled my stomach. I opened a couple packets of crackers and used them to soak up some of the broth. When the container was empty, I leaned back in bed, and felt my eyes droop.
Bryson cleared my garbage from the table and pulled it away from the bed. He reached behind me and turned off the light above my head before pulling the thin blankets up to my chest.
“The nurse said you could rest, so you probably should.”
I nodded as a yawn escaped me. “Are you going home?”
“I told you I wasn’t going anywhere.”
I peeked one eye open. “Don’t you have work to do or something?”
Bryson’s lips thinned as his eyes darted to the floor. “No. Don’t worry about it. Everything’s taken care of. Sleep.”
I shrugged and let my eyes fall closed. A part of me wondered how he could get away from his work now when for months it had chained him to one of his two offices. Why, now, was he making an effort? And the most important question of all was: How long would this last?
True to her word, Rita woke me every few hours throughout the night. When her shift was up, her counterpart, Vicki, took up the reigns for her. Every time they came in to wake me, they’d also inadvertently wake Bryson who looked awkward and uncomfortable sprawled between two chairs on one side of the bed. I kept waiting for him to get fed up with the constant interruptions of his sleep and leave for home, but true to his word, he stayed the night.
Somehow, I’d managed to fall asleep after every awakening by the nurses, and the next time I opened my eyes, I found Josie and Bryson in what looked like a heated conversation on the other side of the room.
“Jos?” I called.
Her head snapped up in my direction and her lips pulled into a forced-looking smile.
“Hey, Mack. How ya’ feeling today?”
I tried to shake off the last of the grogginess and pull myself up in the bed. Josie rushed to my side and wrapped her arm around my shoulders to help. When I was finally upright, I studied the two of them closely.
“What’s going on? Were you two arguing?”
“Yes,” Josie answered.
“No,” Bryson insisted.
I eyed them again, about to start an inquisition, when nurse Vicki walked in the room.
“Oh, good, you’re up!” I smiled at her halfheartedly as she walked over to check my vitals. “The doctor ordered some additional tests. If everything comes back okay, we might be able to get you out of here in a few hours.”
The first good piece of news I’d gotten in a while.
“Sounds great,” I told her honestly.
She kept up a steady stream of words that floated right over my head as I watched Bryson and Josie carefully. They were both tense as if whatever they’d been discussing had been left unfinished. When Vicki was finally done, she left the room, promising to return with some more medication after breakfast arrived.
Once she was through the door, I turned to the two secret keepers and speared them both with a look. “Spill.”
Josie averted her gaze, but Bryson’s was trained on me.
“Spill what?” Josie asked.
“What were you two arguing about?”
“It’s nothing. How’s your head today?” Bryson asked.
“Don’t change the subject.”
“Don’t deflect,” he retorted.
I opened my mouth to argue again when a hospital employee came waltzing through the door carrying a tray of food. “Mackenzie Thompson?”
I nodded. “That’s me.”
“I have your breakfast here,” the middle-aged woman informed me. She placed it on the table near my bed and was gone before I could thank her.
I eyed the tray before turning my gaze back to Josie. She was the weak link in this chain, so she was the easiest to break.
“You should eat,” Bryson said, walking over to uncover my tray, revealing scrambled eggs, toast and fruit.
Surprisingly, it all looked appetizing to my fickle stomach. In the next instant, it betrayed me in the worst way by gurgling loudly and Bryson’s lips quirked to the side as he swiveled the tray across my lap.
“Eat,” he commanded.
I made a face at
him, but the rumbling of my stomach couldn’t be ignored. With a fierce glare, I picked up a fork and dug into the food. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until the first bite of egg reached my tongue. Several minutes later, all that was left was the pulpy, bitter orange juice.
Now that I’d done what he asked, the both of them were going to answer some questions.
“Oh good, breakfast came,” called Vicki from the hospital room door.
She walked in with a little plastic cup of pills and I took them and swallowed them down with a glass of water she provided. Moments later, another hospital staff member walked in the room and informed me he’d be transporting me to my tests. Feeling ridiculous for being rolled around in a bed when I could walk just fine, I crossed my arms and glared at both Josie and Bryson as I was wheeled out of the room.
Chapter 27
I was only out of the room for about half an hour, but when I got back, Josie was gone.
“Where’d she go?” I asked Bryson.
“She had to go back home to pick some things up.”
“What things?”
I was interrupted again by a well-meaning nurse with incredibly poor timing. “Tests went well, Ms. Thompson. The doctor should be in soon. He wanted me to check on your bleeding first though.”
Bryson jumped to his feet. “What bleeding?”
I ignored him and began to sit up and climb out of bed. The nurse stopped me with a hand to my shoulder. “Just sit tight and I’ll take a peek.”
My cheeks flamed as I took a glance at Bryson. “Can you leave, please?”
His eyes hardened. “I’m your husband.”
I frowned, but the nurse answered for me. “If the patient would rather have this exam privately, I have to ask you to leave, Mr. Thompson.”
Bryson’s eyes were like marbles as he stiffly walked to the door and shut it softly behind him. I breathed a sigh of relief that the nurse didn’t miss as she peeled the blankets away and took a peek at the pad they’d had me wear.
“Everything looks good,” the nurse informed me. “There’s been very little bleeding since we checked overnight. That’s great news.”
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