I swallowed and turned back to Grace, shame invading every pore of my body. “Go home, Grace.” My voice was so heavy with the burdens that sat on my shoulders, I had to struggle just to get the words out. I took a step and then another, carrying myself around her. I couldn’t bear facing her right then.
“What?” she spun around and questioned.
“You should go home.” As painful as it was to say those words, it was the truth. I should be alone.
“I’m not going—” Her retort became non-existent when I picked up another porcelain vase, one that had escaped my wrath the first time around, and slammed it to the floor. She jumped.
“Get the hell out!” I yelled. “I’m not one of your fucking patients!”
“Why do you keep saying that?”
“Because it’s true! I’m not a fucking invalid. I don’t need to be coddled and babied.”
Her shoulders sank and the guilt began to weigh on me more than the shame. Together they both damn near crippled me.
“What do you need?”
“To be alone.”
She shook her head. “Bullshit.”
I turned my head from her because she was right. I was full of shit. I knew it and she knew it. But I still didn’t have the words to express what I was feeling. What was going on inside of my head.
When I turned to face her again, she was closer, moving my way. Her eyes were intent as she captured my attention and held it.
“I’m not babying you or treating you like a patient when I tell you, you’re full of shit, Jacob. You need help.” She looked down and around at the disaster of my home before her gaze came back to me. “You’re not well.”
I knew her words to be the truth. Anyone with eyes could see that. Regardless, I wanted to deny them. To tell her I was fine and didn’t need shit from anyone because what I needed in the past hadn’t been granted to me. I’d sought and gotten all of my needs on my own since I was sixteen. If anything was wrong, I figured it out and didn’t bother to stop and ask for help because help wasn’t coming. And good riddance.
But standing there with Grace’s penetrating gaze on me, I knew what she said was true. For once, I’d come to a precipice that I didn’t know how to face. This one was higher than any I’d faced before, and the darkness of the bottom that stared back up overwhelmed me.
“G-Go home, Grace,” I managed to choke out one final time, before sliding to the floor, propping my elbows on my knees and lowering my head.
I heard her footsteps as she retreated. They grew softer and softer as she padded her way down the hall to my bedroom. The distance between my body and hers allowed me to push out a breath, my shoulder slumping even farther. The weight of the world was still there, hanging as heavy as ever, but maybe I wouldn’t have to burden Grace with it either. She didn’t deserve that.
I didn’t even look up when I heard her approaching again. But I felt her warmth as she moved closer. I felt her shadow descend over my body as she lowered herself to the floor, in front of me. And I felt the tips of her fingers when she reached through the hole in my arms, and lifted my chin, forcing our gazes to meet. She was dressed in her blue scrubs again.
I saw her coming in for the kiss before she even moved. The look in her eyes told me what she was planning to do. But it came so sudden, I didn’t have time to catch it before she was pulled away. The whisper of a kiss ordinarily wouldn’t have been enough. But my body and my burdens were too heavy to bring our lips back together again.
“Jacob,” she began, just above a whisper, “I love you. I love you more than I ever thought I could love a man, and you need help. More help than I’m capable of giving. Don’t hate me for what I’ve done.”
I narrowed my eyes because hating her would never even cross my mind.How could she even think—
The pounding on my front door stopped my questioning.
Grace gave me a final, worried look, and then stood, quickly moving to the door.
I didn’t say anything as she pulled the door open because a sneaking suspicion began to consume me. She was expecting whoever was on the other side of that door.
“He’s here.” She glanced from the door to me, worrying her bottom lip. She only did that when she was extremely nervous. I’d seen that expression before on her face twice. Once when we were in the OR and things got really dicey and a patient almost bled out, the second time was when I pulled back the shower curtain, exposing her entirely nude body to my gaze for the first time.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up.
She stepped away from the door and an older man entered behind her. I caught sight of his hazel eyes, which resided behind the lens of his glasses. His thin lips were formed into a grim line when he turned to stare down at me after glancing over the damage surrounding me.
I wanted to ask who the hell he was, standing in my damn home, but I was utterly drained. Too tired to even talk.
“Jacob,” he began, kneeling in front of me, “I’m Dr. Kearns. Grace is a friend of mine.” He paused to look up at Grace who was standing, hovering over us.
