“Then you need to make a choice. Really make it, not just pay lip service to it.” She looks between us. “You have people who can handle emergencies. That's what executives and managers are for. Your job right now is to stay alive. That's it. Stay alive.”
She stands and makes a note on her tablet. “I'm keeping you overnight for observation to ensure your blood pressure stabilizes. If it does, you can go home tomorrow. But Mr. Donovan? This was your warning shot. Next time, you might not be so lucky.”
After she leaves, the room is silent except for the beep of the heart monitor and the hiss of the blood pressure cuff inflating automatically every fifteen minutes.
“I'm sorry,” he says, his voice rough as he squeezes my hand. “Jennifer, I'm so sorry.”
“Shhh. Don't apologize. Just rest.” I keep my voice calm and soothing. The last thing he needs right now is more stress. I’ll stress enough for the two of us. “Everything's okay. You're okay.”
His blue eyes glisten as he swallows hard. “I could have-”
I cut him off before he can finish, “But you didn't.” I squeeze his hand. “You're here. You're safe. That's all that matters right now.”
He closes his eyes, and I watch a tear slip down his cheek. I wipe it away gently.
“I was so scared,” I whisper. “But you're okay now. Just breathe and rest.”
I stay like that, holding his hand, until he falls asleep.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
JENNIFER
Seth ends up staying in the hospital for two days. I called Mrs. Avery to let her know what was happening, and she commended me for going above and beyond my housekeeping duties. I didn’t bother correcting her because I’m sure not sleeping with the guests was in the contract I signed. And even if it wasn’t, I didn’t feel like getting into all that with her when I was still so worried about Seth. She also was kind enough to tell me to take a few days off, due to stress, which I appreciated because I couldn’t imagine having to work and be with Seth the way I needed to be.
The days blur together in a haze of hospital routine. I’m there every visiting hour. I sit with him while they check his vitals, adjust his medications, and monitor his blood pressure every four hours. I bring him books and his phone from the cabin. He was smart enough not to ask for his laptop. I might have laughed in his face if he had asked.
His numbers stabilize slowly. Blood pressure coming down from the dangerous spike, settling back toward normal. The doctor adjusts his medication dosages and adds a new prescription for anxiety that might help with the stress response.
Seth is quiet. Subdued in a way I've never seen him. He doesn't ask about work or reach for his phone. He just lies there, staring at the ceiling or out the window, lost in thought.
I don't push or ask what he's thinking. I stay there so he’s not alone. I did ask if he had family that he wanted me to call, and he said he didn’t want to bother his parents about this. That kind of shocked me. If I were in the hospital and my mom found out after the fact she would be ticked.
Thankfully, around eleven on day three, the doctor discharges him with strict instructions: complete rest for the next week, no work, follow-up appointment in three days, continue all medications, and monitor blood pressure twice daily.
“You got lucky, Mr. Donovan,” she says. “Very lucky. Don't waste it.”
I drive him to the cabin in silence. He stares out the window the whole way, watching the trees pass, and the lake appear and disappear through the gaps.
At the cabin, I help him inside even though he doesn't need help. After I get him settled on the couch with water and his medications, I make us a light lunch of soup and toast, nothing that will stress his system.
He eats mechanically, not saying a word.
I clean up the kitchen some and come back into the living room, just standing there and looking at him. He’s still Seth, still the man I fell in love with, and he almost died three days ago. That’s the part that I simply cannot wrap my head around.
“We need to talk,” I say quietly.
He looks up at me, and I see fear flash across his face. “Okay,” he mumbles.
I sit in the armchair across from him, not next to him on the couch like I normally would. I need to maintain some distance so I can say what needs to be said.
“Seth, I watched you almost die three days ago.” My voice is steady, and I’m amazed at how calm I feel. “I watched your face turn gray and your hand clutch at your chest, and I thought, this is it. This is how I lose him.”
He opens his mouth to speak, but I hold up a hand.
“I need you to listen. Really listen.” I take a breath. “When I was twelve, my father had his first heart attack. He was forty-two. The doctor told him to slow down, change his life, and reduce stress. He didn't. He went right back to seventy-hour weeks, black coffee, fried foods, and too much alcohol.” I meet his eyes. “Six months later, he had his second heart attack. He didn't survive that one.”
Seth's face goes pale. “Jennifer-”
