“I don’t want you to fall down,” he says. The expression is too innocent, and he seems to realize it, so he adds, “It scared me, okay?”
I swallow hard and nod. “Okay.”
As I shower, I let the too-hot water scald my back and neck, wishing it would release some of the pain, all while muttering, “You can’t fall in love with him. You can’t fall in love with him. He’s Ellie’s uncle. She’s your patient.”
I repeat the pep talk to myself over and over until the other side of my mind says, “But she won’t be your patient forever. Dr. Jansen’s schedule is going to open up this fall and they’d be a good match. Maybe it’s time I jump the gun and start my own practice. We wouldn’t have to wait two years if we lie low...”
I stomp on the thought and grit it out like the butt of a cigarette, escaping the shower to put on clean sweats.
When I emerge from the hallway, JP asks, “Bed or couch?”
I stare at him for a beat. “Couch. I want to watch TV.”
“Dances with Wolves?” he asks with his perfect smile.
“Dances With Wolves, The Bodyguard,Field of Dreams,For the Love of the Game...” I rattle off movie titles, then smile coyly. “I need all the Kevin Costner I can get.”
He rolls his eyes and disappears down my hall, returning with pillows and blankets. He helps me get situated. Normally, I’d say I’ve got it. But in all honesty, I don’t. I may not be sick enough to stay at the hospital, but I’m still weak, with a slight fever and terrible pain in my neck.
“Does this feel okay?” he whispers after adjusting my pillow.
My head sinks into the pillow, the pain subsiding for a brief moment as I stare into his deep green eyes. “It feels more than okay.”
He flashes me a small, almost embarrassed smile as Kevin hops on his lap. He’s a fifty-pound lap dog that makes JP let out ahmmphbefore Kevin curls in a half circle and settles.
“I’m a little jealous of this bond forming right before my eyes,” I say from my end of the couch.
JP raises his eyebrows. “Are you?”
“Yeah, I mean, Kevin got to have a sleepover at your apartment and I didn’t,” I remark, and my chest immediately tightens as I realize I’m flirting. I swallow my smile and let my eyes nervously flit around the room.
“Yeah, well maybe those nights you had to come home to him, maybe you should have just brought him with you,” he says.
I nod slightly, not knowing how to respond truthfully. Because what I want to say has nothing to do with doggie sleepovers at his apartment. It has to do with impossibility and how, if maybe we knew about Ellie being my patient early on, this would have never shifted into this. A feeling. A falling. A world where fortune tellers tell us I will have many loves in my life but he will be most of them.
JP cups a hand below my kneecap and rubs his thumb over my knee. He watches his thumb move back and forth in slowstrokes, his brow furrowing, and I want him to tell me exactly what he’s thinking, but I’m afraid of every thought. Because if they’re anything like mine, we’ll be getting married next summer, and I will be having all of his children for the next five to ten years.
I clear my throat. “I checked with other therapists in the area for Ellie,” I admit, and he raises his eyebrow. “I found someone but she’s full until November.”
“What about waiting two years after?” he asks.
I shrug because a part of me wants to do away with that clause in the code of ethics. “We’ll see,” I offer, my voice weak. It’s abundantly clear our relationship has so much potential, and I don’t want us to remain stuck in the state of wishful thinking. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”
“Me either,” he responds, tightening his grip on my knee. “But maybe the timing is off.”
“Right. It is.” I clear my throat. “But I guess if there’s ever going to be the possibility of us...”
My voice trails and his mouth is slightly open as if he’s determining his next thoughts.
“I’m leaving,” he says finally.
“Oh, okay,” I respond coolly as my heart sinks. It makes sense. He has his own life. He can’t spend all of his time nursing me back to health. “Thank you so much for everything. I should be fine now. I’m honestly feeling a lot better—”
“No, like...” He bites his bottom lip hard. He doesn’t want to say it. “I’m moving.”
A shot of cold water hits my veins. “Where?”
“Overseas for Teachers Without Borders.”
