Truly, Madly, Deeply

by L. S. Scott

  “I have no idea when I’ll be able to go back to work. I haven’t even tried to stand on my leg yet. As much as it kills me to admit it, Connor, I’ll have to have help. I won’t be able to live by myself. Tiffany and Jake…”

  “Come home with me,” he blurted out, cutting me off mid-sentence. I looked at him stunned. “My suite is plenty big enough. There are no stairs and the gym and pool will be perfect for your therapy.” He stood and looked down at me, his eyes desperate and pleading. “I don’t want you to go Natalie.”

  “Connor, I can’t ask you to do that. I feel guilty enough that you’ve wasted so much time here with me already.”

  “Wasted my time?”

  He ran his hand through his hair that had grown out a little longer than usually. He turned and headed to the door.

  “Connor wait.”

  “I need some air. I’ll be back in a little bit.” With that he was gone.

  I looked around my hospital room. Balloons swayed lazily back and forth in the corner. A bright mixed bouquet of flowers sat near the sink. There were two chairs near the window and the larger lounger that Connor slept in near my bed. The small hospital room was really as full as it could get, but, without Connor’s presence it felt cavernous and empty, as did I. I fought my heavy eyelids for almost an hour, but with the pain meds coursing through my veins, I drifted off to sleep before he returned.

  “Good morning,” the clanging of food trays and Missy’s voice, the girl from the cafeteria, woke me.

  “Good morning,” Connor replied in a tired voice.

  Missy sat the breakfast plates down and was out the door before I could get fully awake. Connor went straight for the coffee. He was already sipping his when he added two sugars and some milk to mine and moved on to smearing grape jelly on my toast.

  I retrieved the warm wet wash cloth he had placed on the table by my plate and wiped the sleep from my eyes.

  “I tried to wait up for you, but the pain medicine knocked me out,” I said before taking a sip of coffee.

  He looked up from his task of preparing my breakfast toast with regret in his eyes.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

  “Connor, you don’t owe me an apology. You don’t owe me anything,” I said, grabbing his wrist to make him stop and look at me.

  Before he could reply, Dr. Hanson appeared in the door way with Jake and Tiffany right behind him.

  “Good morning young lady. You are looking well this morning. How are you feeling?” the doctor asked as he walked in the room. He nodded and extended his hand, “Connor,” he said greeting him with a friendly handshake.

  “Jack,” Connor returned the gesture, nod and handshake.

  Tiffany and Jake filed in around my bed. Connor rolled my table tray back giving the doctor room to examine me and returned to stand next to me, his hand resting on my arm.

  After a quick look at my incision, a check of my feet for swelling, a check of my eyes and pupils and a listen to my lungs, the doctor smiled proudly.

  “You are doing great Natalie. I’m going to write orders for physical therapy, to begin immediately. We have got to get you out of this bed.” I nodded enthusiastically. “How is your emotional state?”

  He looked from me to Connor and then back to me. I shrugged unsure of how to answer. Honestly, I felt lost, but with the new medication I seemed to be a little too numb for the tearful breakdowns or the angry outbursts.

  “She’s doing better,” Connor answered. “She’s definitely sleeping a lot sounder.”

  “Good, good,” the doctor nodded. “Well, we will keep you on the anti-depressant for a while. P.T. will come this afternoon to evaluate you. If that goes well, we will remove the catheter and you will be on your way back to normal. Hopefully, by Saturday morning, you will on your way home. Sound good kiddo?” He pinched and wiggled my big toe.

  “That sounds really good,” I answered, smiling even though my stomach was churning with nervous butterflies.

  “Very good then. I will see you on Wednesday.” With a smile and a nod, Dr. Hanson was gone.

  Tiffany rushed to my side. “I’m so excited. You’re gonna love the new house and your room will be right beside the nursery,” she gushed, smiling from ear to ear.

  Connor’s hand tightened around my arm as if he were afraid I would float away. “Natalie,” he said, his voice laced with anxiety.

  I looked from Tiff to Jake to Connor, wide eyed and confused.

  “What,” Jake questioned flatly.

  Connor’s jaw clenched. He tilted his head and his eyes pleaded. My eyes locked with his, so clear and blue and sincere. In Jaron’s I felt as if I could drown, in Connor’s I felt as if I could fly, two very different yet equally as powerful effects.

  I took a minute to contemplate, recalling the gambit of emotions I had experienced over the last few days; sadness, anger, loneliness, fear, one second pushing Connor away the next begging him not to leave. And the way I felt the night before when I was in my room alone. I didn’t want Jake or Tiffany, I wanted Jaron, but in his absence, just like in the months before the accident, only Connor could suffice.

  “Natalie,” Jake called, demanding my attention. “What is it?”

  I opened my mouth to answer, but no words would come out.

  “Natalie’s going to stay with me,” Connor answered for me.

  “Hmph,” Jake snorted. “Natalie needs to be with her family,” he said matter of factly.

  Connor released my arm and stood to his full height, shoulders broad and crossed his arms over his chest to peer at my brother across my hospital bed.

  “Really? Was it her family sleeping in this chair for the last two weeks, holding her while she cries in her sleep?”

  “Look, I appreciate all you’ve done, but..”

  “Stop! Just stop,” I ordered when I was finally able to form words.

  They both stopped and took a deep breath and stood staring at one another, neither willing to back down.

  “Jake, I’m staying.”

  Both men snapped their attention in my direction. Jake’s face full of apprehension, Connor’s full of relief.

  “Before you say a word, I like it here. I worked hard to get here. I’m sure in a few weeks I will be back on my feet and back to work.”

  “It’s not your physical well-being I’m concerned about Natalie. Losing Jaron, again,” he paused and shook his head sympathetically. “You never dealt with it the first time and now.”

  The mention of Jaron, of losing Jaron, made my chest tighten until breathing became difficult. My lip began to quiver and tears stung my eyes.

  “That’s enough,” Connor said authoritatively.

  He quickly retrieved my wash cloth. I pressed it to my burning eyes and took slow deep breathes to ward off a full blown melt down.

  “Can I talk to you outside,” Tiffany said softly, taking Jake by the arm.

  “It’s okay,” Connor comforted, tucking my hair behind my ear. “We’ve got to get you in the shower and wash this,” he joked, causing me to chuckle for the first time.

  “I know I feel gross,” I complained.

  Connor poked the straw through my grape juice and held it up for me to drink. Even though I was fully capable of holding it myself, I let him hold it for me. Unbeknownst to us, Jake and Tiffany stood at the door and watched our interaction a second before returning to my bedside.

  “I just want what’s best for you sis. If you believe going back to Vegas, living in a hotel, is best, then so be it. Just know you always have a home with us.”

  “Well, The Flynn is not just a hotel,” I said grinning side-ways.

  Connor smiled. “I think she’s gotten a little spoiled to the room service,” he teased, never taking his eyes off me.

  “So it’s settled,” I said. “You guys have been here long enough, I’m sure you need to get back to work and Tiffany has a nursery to decorate.” I squeezed my best friend’s hand.

  Jake’
s brow crinkled with indecision.

  “Don’t argue Jake. I love you guys and I’m going to miss you, but you need to get this pregnant lady home.”

  “I know.”

  Jake wrapped his arm Tiffany. Their faces lit up when they smiled at one another and their happiness washed over me, lifting the heavy heartache and haze of anti-depressants for a fleeting moment.

  After a long visit and some tearful goodbyes, Tiffany and Jake left to head back to the Lone Star state.

  By Tuesday night, my catheter and iv had been removed. I had worked with the therapist for an hour and walked down the hall and back a couple times with Connor. When we returned to the room I made a bee line for the bathroom.

  “Whoa, slow down,” he cautioned.

  “I want a shower, now,” I demanded.

  “Okay. Sit on the shower bench for a second,” he helped me ease down slowly onto the cold tile.

  Bottles of his shampoo and body wash sat on the bench beside me and his scent filled the small space. The fresh spicy scent was a welcome reprieve from the antiseptic hospital smell. I inhaled deeply.

  “You okay,” he asked as he adjusted the water temperature.

  “Mmhm,” I nodded.

  I lifted my toes to reach the warm water falling from the shower head as Connor disappeared for a second, returning from the other side of the curtain without his shirt.

  “What are you doing,” I asked, taken aback.

  “I’m going to help you,” he said leaning in to untie my gown.

  “Wait!” I clutched the front of the faded hospital gown. With one finger, he lifted my chin to look at him.

  “There’s nothing under that gown that I haven’t already seen or touched. Let me help you.”

  Slowly, as if I were a scared animal, he reached down and pulled the Velcro straps of my arm brace loose. He held my wrist and carefully removed the brace. He stretched my arm out toward the water and let the warm spray massage the creased, pale skin. It felt like Heaven.

  I closed my eyes and took a long relaxing breath. “Aaah,” I sighed.

  When all the tension was released, he slowly pulled my gown from my body. I saw his atom’s apple bob as he swallowed hard.

  “Stand up, lets wash this hair,” he smiled and took my hand to help me stand under the water.

  My breath hitched and my head fell back as the warm water streamed down my body for the first time in nearly three weeks. I let my head fall forward and rolled my shoulders as the spray pounded against my stiff muscles. It felt so good I forgot Connor was even standing there. I flinched when he touched me, rubbing the wash cloth across my back in slow circular motions.

  The scent of his body wash filled my nose. In spite of my physical and emotional wounds, the combination of sensations caused the muscles between my legs to tighten and my thighs to press together.

  He stopped and squeezed more body wash into the wash cloth. He cleared his throat, “Um, do you want to wash the front,” he asked awkwardly in a husky voice.

  I opened my eyes and looked over at him. The front of his jeans was speckled with water and the bulge under his zipper was obvious. Water glistened on his bare chest and ran down his arm. I reached out and he offered me the soapy rag, but I grabbed his wrist instead.

  “No, you,” I whispered and pulled his hand to my neck and closed my eyes.

  He worked slowly, down each arm and back, down each side and across my stomach. I could hear the change in his breathing as he cupped my breast and let the cloth slide a across my hardened nipple. He repeated the motion on the other side and trailed his cloth covered hand down my body, down on leg, up the other. Reflexively, my body arched when he reached my apex. He hesitated for a second, until I gripped his shoulder to steady myself and opened my legs slightly to allow his access.

  He took a ragged breath as he cupped my mound and slid the cloth gently between my folds. My body shivered.

  “Are you okay?” He worried.

  “Yes,” I answered breathlessly.

  “Are you sore, I mean from the catheter.”

  “Not really, just really sensitive,” I smiled down at him and was met with a smoldering stare.

  With his eyes locked with mine, he dropped the wash rag and returned with his bare hand. Cupping his palm, he captured and funneled the warm water running down my body to rinse away to bubbles. I felt his hand tremble ever so slightly as it hovered just above my skin. His eyes drilled deep into mine, gauging my reaction. I wet my lips and captured my bottom lip between my teeth. I saw the lust flash like lightening in his eyes just before his fingers slid deep inside me.

  “Aaahh,” I moaned softly as my head fell back.

  His free arm snaked across my lower back and his hand lay gently around my waist, just above my incision. Braced against his arm, I gave in fully to his touch, arching and pushing, riding his palm that pressed into my clit. Within in seconds, my body seized around his fingers as waves of release crashed through my body, buckling my weak, shaky legs. Connor caught me in his arms and pulled my soaking wet body against his. I slumped against him, shivering and sobbing as the next wave to rip through my body was guilt.

  “Oh God, Natalie, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have,” he kissed the top of my head, stroking and soothing as I melted into his chest.

  He stepped up into the shower, soaking his jeans and shoes and held me under the warm water. I wanted to tell him it was okay. I wanted to tell him none of it was his fault. I wanted to tell him to leave, because I didn’t deserve his kindness, but all I could do was cry and take advantage of his compassion. I let him comfort and care for me while I fell apart again.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  It was a long three and a half hour drive from Flagstaff to Las Vegas, but the soft leather seats of Connor’s Mercedes SUV were actually more comfortable than my hospital bed. Not to mention, Connor had built me a nest of pillows, topped off with my favorite old raggedy quilt. My eyes misted over when I opened the door and saw it laying neatly across the seat. He explained that a lot of my things had been recovered from the scene of the accident and he had them all laundered and taken back to my suite. Presumptuous, maybe. Thoughtful, definitely.

  Without my asking, Connor pulled into the alley at the side of the hotel, the same entrance I was supposed to use the night of our date. Ellis stood patiently awaiting our arrival. My stomach tightened and my chest ached as I fought hard to keep my emotions in check. It was on the other side of that door that I felt Jaron’s touch for the first time in six years. But I wasn’t up to the questioning stares I would get crossing the lobby on Connor’s arm. Not that it was a secret anymore. Everyone was aware of the accident and definitely noticed Connor’s extended leave of absence. Even if it wasn’t known as fact, it didn’t take a genius to put two and two together.

  “You okay,” Connor asked under a raised brow, reaching up to wipe away the tear that escaped the corner of my eye with the back of his hand. I nodded and swallowed the lump in my throat.

  Connor opened the door and helped me ease to the ground. Ellis greeted me with a big smile and a welcome back as he held open the door. Once inside, I could hear the sound of the kitchen and the scurrying of a busy hotel. I stood looking down the long hall and could see the tiny alcove that Jaron had pulled me into. The memory of turning in his arms and looking in his eyes and coming completely undone, flashed before me as if I were watching a movie.

  I willed my body to move forward, instructed my feet to step one in front of the other, like I was in the last leg of a marathon. The warmth of Connor’s hand on my back encouraged me to keep going.

  When I passed the darkened hall I dared to look, and there we were. Jaron’s long lean body pressed up against mine, one arm around my waist, one hand reaching between my thighs, my hands pressed up against the wall, my head laid back against his chest. It was so clear that it felt tangible and the waves of deep heartbreaking sobs were unstoppable.

  “Natalie,” Connor breathed my name and swe
pt me up in his arms. The action only pulled more memories out from behind the wall I had been slowly building back.

  “You’re going to be okay. I promise you, you are going to be okay,” he whispered, pressing his lips to my temple as we rode the service elevator to the top floor.

  “Home sweet home,” he said forcing a smile as we entered his suite. Reluctantly, he laid me on the couch and hurried to the kitchen to get me a Dr. Pepper and medication.

  “What’s this,” I questioned, frowning at the pills.

  “It’s your pain medicine and anti-depressant, the pharmacy delivered them. I think it will help calm you down a little.”

  I gladly took them both. I preferred the numbness over the soul crushing pain of a badly broken heart.

  For the next three weeks, Connor worked from home, ensuring that I was comfortable at all times. For the first two weeks he even supervised my therapy sessions, but when we moved therapy to the gym on week three, I insisted he go to his office downstairs for at least the hour I was gone.

  “It’s very sweet how protective he is,” Lindsey the therapist commented as we walked down the hall to the private gym.

  “Yeah, I’m sure he wants to make sure I don’t have any set-backs so I can get back to work,” I said. “And, out of his bachelor pad.” I chuckled.

  “You’re not a couple,” she looked at me confused.

  I entered the gym without answering.

  “I will see you Monday,” Lindsey said and headed toward the elevator. She turned to look at me, walking backward, “Don’t forget your stretches over the weekend,” she reminded.

  “Gotcha. Have fun on your trip,” I called to her as she disappeared into the open sliding door.

  “I will,” I heard her say as the door closed.

  It was clear Connor wasn’t back from his office when I entered the suite. Usually he was sitting on the veranda waiting for me to get back so we could order lunch. I checked his home office, but he wasn’t there either. I picked up the phone and started to text him and let him know I was back when I noticed an envelope on the corner of his desk. It was from Flagstaff Medical Center and addressed to me. I was relieved to see that he hadn’t opened it. I ripped through the seal and pulled out two folded pages. A quick scan of page one and it was clear that it was my hospital bill. I dropped my head with dread. I did not have health insurance and I knew that between the emergency care, surgery, physical therapy and nearly month long stay, the number on the back was going to be astronomical. I gathered my courage and flipped the page.