CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Jay

I was heading home from the office. It had been a long, crazy day and it should have been a rewarding day. I had met the clients who were hiring us for the whole football team, and we’d instantly got along famously. We had the contract and the boss was wired.

But somehow, none of it made me feel happy. There was a dull ache in my chest, a gnawing pain that wouldn’t go away. I missed Margot.

I walked through the park and checked my phone. It was five o’ clock. I was just setting off again, planning an evening in which I read her mail and tried to answer it, when my phone went.

“Hi?” I frowned.

“Hey! This Jay?”

“Yeah…” I was hesitant. The person sounded somehow familiar, as if I should have recognized their voice. I couldn’t quite place it, but I knew the guy from somewhere, I was sure of it.

“It’s me. Lance. Lance, Margo’s brother?”

“Uh, yeah?” I frowned. I couldn’t imagine why Margo’s brother would be calling me. Had something happened?

“Listen, Lance. You need to come down,” he said. “I don’t know where you are, or what work you’re doing, but Margo needs to talk. She’s had an accident.”

“What?”

I almost shouted it, almost dropped my phone.

“She’s had an accident. It’s not serious. Her leg’s broken, and…”

“What? Not serious? Leg’s broken? Where is she?”

I heard Lance inhale wearily. “She’s safe, Jay. She’s at the Sinai center. She should be out by Monday at the latest.”

“I’m coming down,” I said. It was Thursday. I could take tomorrow off, fly down, stay the weekend and still be back in time for work on Monday morning.

“Jay, she’s not badly injured…” Lance said hesitantly.

“I don’t care. She is injured. I need to talk to her.”

I felt terrible. I had been so stupid. So blind. How could I have held such stupid jealousies, such stupid grudges? So what if Margo loved this other guy? I loved her. That was what mattered. She could have died and she would have thought I hated her. Nothing was worth that.

“I’m coming,” I repeated. “See you tomorrow.”

“Jay…”

I hung up. My brain was working. I called my boss.

“Max?”

“Hey! Coach! How’s it?” he still sounded elated, much as he had this afternoon. I sighed.

“Max, I’m sorry. But I’m not going to be in tomorrow. I need to go out of town. Family stuff.”

“Hell. Nothing bad, I hope.”

“Nothing bad. I’m sorry, really. Send me anything you need doing—I can do it on the plane. Okay?”

He chuckled. “Well, you are nothing if not dedicated. I’ll see you early on Monday morning, though?”

“I promise.”

I closed my eyes in a moment’s gratitude for such a nice boss, then hung up. I headed quickly back home.

When I got there, I was exhausted and frantic. I leaned against the wall, chest heaving. My crutches were beside me, arms trembling with the effort of carrying me all this way at speed. I had to pack. I checked flights.

There was one that left this evening before midnight. If I went crazy I could just make it. I booked it. Then I threw some clothes into a bag and headed down to the car. I had to get all the way to Hancock first.

I made it to the gate on time. I collapsed in the plane, my heart thudding. I would get there in the early hours of the morning. That meant I could be there for ward round when she woke up.

I stumbled through the airport, called myself a cab and fell asleep. I had managed to tell the driver to take me to the Sinai medical center before I fell asleep.

“Here we are, sir,” he said.

I blinked. “Where…oh. Thanks.”

I paid him.

“Good luck, sir,” he said.

I appreciated it. He was probably used to taking people to the hospital at odd hours. Probably he thought I was there for an emergency, which I more or less was.

“Thanks,” I said.

I headed up the stairs and into the place.

I hate hospitals.

Whatever they are—care homes, hospitals, nursing centers—I get freaked out the moment I go in and smell the familiar, frightening disinfectant smell. They have that odd silence about them, too, as if no one quite treads fully on the floor, everyone sidestepping round some awful truth. I hated it.

I guess I would hate it less if it didn’t make me think of my leg.

I sighed and clicked my way up the hallway, heading inside. I couldn’t help making a noise when I moved about—crutches do that—and so at least I wasn’t part of the group who walked so hesitatingly about, lest they disturb the rest.

“You’re here to see Ms. Lawrence?” the nurse asked me. By then, I’d been past reception, gone to another office and then, finally, been led into the hallway with this nurse as my guide. By the time we’d established who I was in relation to her and assured that I was allowed to visit her, it was nine o’clock.

“Yes.” I nodded briskly. “Indeed I am.”

“She’s in here,” the nurse said, leading me up the hallway. “The doctor’s rounds are starting now…you might not have long.”

I sighed. “I just need to see her.”

“She might not be awake,” the nurse added, checking her watch. It was exactly nine.

“I don’t mind,” I said. I didn’t. Just being near her was enough for me.

I love her. I don’t care if she cheats on me. I don’t care if she’s asleep and all she can do is lift her eyebrows. I love her.

I had never realized before what it meant to love unconditionally. But I knew now. I loved Margo because she was Margo. Because she existed and her being in the world made me happy. That was all. I didn’t need her to love only me, I didn’t need her to sit or stand or walk or do anything. Just be.

“Margo?”

She was lying back on the pillows. The bed had been moved so that she was propped up, her long, pale face toward the door. Her hair was tousled in loose locks that framed her face. I thought she was asleep.

The nurse opened the door and led me in.

“Margo?”

I sat down. Her lids fluttered.

When she saw me, she stared. I smiled. She stared more.

“No.”

“Yes,” I said softly. I couldn’t have asked for a lovelier response.

“No, you can’t be…”

“I am,” I said gently. “I am and I always will be. Margo—can you forgive me?”

She was crying and I was crying and I didn’t care. She sniffed and the tears ran down her cheeks. I reached to stop them and she smiled.

“You silly man. Of course I can.”

We kissed.

Later on we talked.

“Jay,” she said. “I don’t know if you read what I said, but…”

I shook my head. “I haven’t…”

She laughed. “You are the most stubborn…Oh! At least I know you didn’t.”

“Why?” I was confused now.

“Well, because you didn’t say anything,” she said, giggling.

I flushed self-consciously. “Oh. Yeah. Correct.”

“Jay, you are a dear. An unbearably stubborn, hardheaded one sometimes. But a dear.”

I grinned. “Thanks. Those are probably the fairest way of saying it.”

“Yeah. Probably.”

I laughed.

She lay there and I took her hand. I stared at how beautiful she was. Margo was so stunning that I often felt as if she might disappear if I closed my eyes. I leaned forward to kiss her.

“I love you,” I said.

She kissed me back. She was crying again. I felt her tears touch my lips. I kissed those.

“Well,” she said.

“Well, what?”

“Well, you believe me?”

“Believe what?”

“That I didn’t cheat on you?”

I blinked. “Margo, I don’t care. I love you. Yes, I was hurt. But…you know what? I love you and I want to be with you and I forgive you.”

She looked at me, amazed. Then she started crying.

“Jay. Oh, Jay! How can you be so…so nice? Fair. Loving…” She trailed off, sobbing hard.

I reached out and thumbed away the tears. “Silly thing.” I chuckled. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Her words flowed into my chest like honey, healing my heart.

We sat silently a while. I held her hand. She held mine. She smiled.

“Well?”

“Well, what?” I asked.

“Are you going to read my mail?”

I chuckled. “Okay. Yes. I should.”

I reached for my phone and opened it. When I was finished my heart had almost gone through the floor. I felt like a complete ass.

“Margo. I am so, so sorry,” I said, choked. “I can’t believe…you should have told me!”

“I tried,” she said in a soft voice. “I wanted to. I called.”

“And I blocked you. I’m so dumb. I’m sorry.”

She smiled. “You know, the only reason you did that was because you couldn’t believe I could love you.”

I blinked. “Well, yeah,” I said. Hearing it so plain made me realize she was right. That was the reason I’d believed she’d cheated. I thought, because of my own self-hatred, that of course she’d prefer another guy. Any guy. Just a guy that could walk, and do what other guys could. I was stupid.

She laughed. “Jay, you can be really silly sometimes.”

I blushed. “Yeah. I suppose.”

She flushed pink. “And I can too,” she said softly. “I had no idea you loved me.”

It was my turn to stare. “Margo! How couldn’t you?”

“I thought you couldn’t really love me,” she said. “I mean…I’m difficult. And awkward. And boring…”

I stared at her. “Margo Lawrence!” I was somewhere between amazed and outraged. “You are the most stunning, most exciting, sweetest…where do you come from with this stuff? Why would you think…”

She smiled. “Well, I might as well say the same thing to you,” she said. “I love you, Jay. Not the athlete. Not the body. Not even that sexy smoldering look, though I admit it’s a nice extra. I love you. The person I talk to. The one who holds me. The one who laughs with me.”

I felt as if my heart would burst. I had not expected that. I would never have expected that.

But then, that’s the thing with love, isn’t it? It comes out of nowhere, and it sticks around forever. If you let it.