He didn’t push his discharge, instead he waited around until they practically kicked him out so that he could linger past the time when Monica would be returned to her room after surgery. He needed to see her. He’d make an excuse to see her again.
The nurse from the night before recognized him and allowed him into the ICU. “She’s sleeping,” Nurse Hard-Ass told him. “I don’t want you guys waking her up.”
Trent assumed “you guys” referred to Monica’s family, yet when he walked around the now familiar glass door into Monica’s room, seated at her bedside and holding her hand in a familiar way was a man.
He hesitated and cleared his throat softly as to not wake Monica. She slept peacefully, or at least it appeared that way. Her leg sat elevated on some contraption, the bulky dressing on it evidence of the trauma her limb had gone through.
The unknown man lifted his bloodshot eyes to Trent. His face grew cold. “Yes?” he asked as if Trent had no business in the room.
“How is she?”
“Resting.”
Trent couldn’t help but notice how the man held Monica’s hand.
“Who are you?” Trent found himself asking.
“I’m Monica’s boyfriend.”
Everything inside Trent froze.
“Well, nearly her fiancé.”
Trent’s stare moved to the woman on the bed. The warmth inside of him turned ice cold. Now it made sense. No need to think he was anything more than a fling. Wasn’t that how she put it? Of course she’d have someone back home.
Didn’t everyone Trent found himself falling for?
Ignoring the fast rate of his pulse, he swallowed hard and turned off any emotion, any one-day-at-a-time thought.
He wasn’t going to fall into this again.
He’d been down this road and it drove him to a f**king island and cost him his parents. This was not happening again.
“Who are you?” Monica’s fiancé asked.
Trent shook his head. “No one.”
Without any more words, he left the ICU and the hospital, and put her out of his mind.
The next day blurred together. It didn’t help that her fever had spiked in the night, delaying her surgery by several hours. Monica met the orthopedic surgeon, signed consents, and met the surgical team right as they were putting her under.
There’s something about being at the total mercy of others to humble the strongest of characters. In all her nursing years—admittedly, she didn’t have many of them—Monica had never been the patient. Not on any level that depended on someone else to breathe for her.
Her eyes opened briefly in recovery, the pain in her leg so immense she simply uttered a moan. The need of something to keep her from screaming was her only thought. And then the world dimmed again.
Her next moment of lucidity was in the early morning hours of the next day. A lone figure sat beside her bed. His frame filled the chair, his eyes sought hers with concern.
She blinked several times, confused.
“John?”
Chapter Twenty
“W-what are you doing here?” Speaking clogged her dry throat. Staring into the face of her ex was simply too much the minute she woke from surgery. Where was Jessie?
“I couldn’t stay away. Good God, Monica, I thought I’d lost you.”
John held her hand in his, kissed her fingers. Pain sat behind his eyes.
“You didn’t need to come.” He shouldn’t have come. Hadn’t she made herself clear before she left?
He wasn’t listening. The gentle stroke of his fingers along her hand began to feel like an emery board grinding a fine layer of her skin away. “I had to come. I love you, Monica.”
She closed her eyes, not ready to hear his confession, nor ready to tell him she wanted nothing to do with his love. Her feelings weren’t on the same level as his. He knew this.
“Where’s Jessie?” She needed her sister to intervene.
“She and Jack went to the cafeteria.”
“John…”
“You don’t have to say anything. When I was told you were missing, that they thought something awful happened to you, I realized that I can’t walk away from you.”
“You didn’t walk away. I did.”
John’s grip on her hand increased, his eyes stayed with her as if he didn’t hear a thing she said.
“We can talk about this later,” he told her. Not that her mind would change about their relationship.
“Yes. Please.” Monica reached for the call light, desperate for any intervention.
Nurse Hard-Ass walked in, a rare smile on her face. One glance and she asked John to leave the room.
“I’ll wait outside.”
Once he was out of hearing range, Monica whispered to the nurse. “Please have him stay in the waiting room.”
The nurse narrowed her eyes. “He said he was your fiancé.”
Monica squeezed her eyes closed and shook her head. “No. He’s not. Where’s my sister? I need Jessie.”
“OK, OK, I’ll get her. Calm down.”
“Please.”
The nurse stepped out of the room and spoke with John just beyond the door. “I’m going to have to ask you stay in the lobby for now.”
“I’m a nurse,” John argued.
“And a friend. You know the rules. She just woke up and isn’t ready for visitors.”
Just go, John.
The sound of footsteps moving away from the room helped calm her rapid heartbeat.