Chapter Twelve

Surgically Removed

“No.”

He meant it. It was only one syllable to answer Jacob’s question, yet it held a multitude of meaning. Emotions surged through Ollie. Stuff he’d buried long deep. How he felt about being pushed aside time and time again. How he felt about stamping on his own feelings in order to give his family what they needed. How he felt about Elliot. But most of all, how he was feeling about the man moving steadily away from him.

Ollie grabbed Jacob’s hand, squeezing his fingers together in a tight grip. Jacob gazed down with those consuming, almost metallic blue eyes of his, and Ollie drew in his own breath.

“I don’t feel something,” Ollie muttered, his voice hoarse with the admission.

He couldn’t believe he was saying anything at all. He wanted to leave it at no. It wasn’t a lie. But the look on Jacob’s face made Ollie continue. He had no idea if what Jacob had stated was even real. Ollie had fallen into bed with many men in his past, wanting to drown out the heartbreak from his life, from his work. Elliot had arrived at the right time—Ollie’s sister had been finally in remission, yet his father had taken a turn for the worse. Sleeping with a man so emotionally inept had allowed Ollie to switch off, mind and soul, and allow his body to take over. Jacob had all but admitted he had done the same, possibly in different ways. The real fear that Ollie was a distraction for Jacob still consumed him. I’ve always been a distraction. For my parents, when Tilly was sick. For the children I care for daily. For Elliot. I’m really good at being a welcome recreational relief for others.

He might have wanted to leave it at no, but his mouth continued on relentlessly.

“I feel so fucking much I’m frightened.”

The silence dragged on, but Ollie didn’t look up. He couldn’t. He’d spectacularly ruined his New Year’s pledge by letting out his vulnerable side. And to a stranger, no less. His heart pounded, desperately trying to prove it was still there. He was alive, and no matter what happened from here on in, his heart would always remind him of such things. It wasn’t until Jacob sank to his knees, gripping Ollie’s hand and curling a finger under his chin that the tug made Ollie lift up to face him. Those blue eyes delved right into his soul and scooped out his resolve.

“Me too,” Jacob admitted in a whisper.

Ollie wanted to believe him. He did. In a way. Just because there was so much doubt, it didn’t mean what was felt now was going to last. Nothing lasts. There’s always an end in sight. Whether it’s an end paved with sunlight and laughter or an end engulfed by darkness and sorrow. There’s always a final goodbye.

“I want to promise you things.” Jacob’s voice cracked. “I want to take your fear away. I want to take you to bed and hold you.” He leaned forward and kissed Ollie’s lips. “But I’m scared that I’ll break your heart in the end. Whether I mean to, or not. I don’t know how to do this either.”

Ollie needed to push this man away. Nothing good could come of a fling that had begun in such dire circumstances, regardless of what feelings were being bandied around with no care or attention. Ollie was already halfway to losing his job, which would mean losing his father’s care home. And Jacob was halfway to losing his daughter. Everything about this situation screamed that it couldn’t work. Trust didn’t come easily to Ollie as it was. He’d learned not to trust anything. He was a witness on a daily basis to so much pain and sorrow that happened to people who didn’t deserve it. How could he trust fate or feelings when they would always be crushed?

He’d never trusted Elliot. It made it easier to keep doing what he did. He’d used the man as much as Elliot had used him. A mutual benefit. But, after the declaration earlier… Is it me who has the problem? He had been the one to take all Elliot offered and yet keep the distance he needed. Ollie inhaled, his chest rising with the realization, right then, that he wasn’t exactly the expert in normal functioning relationships either.

“I’m a bit messed-up,” Ollie finally admitted.

Jacob snorted. “Aren’t we all?”

Ollie shut his eyes. It made it easier to utter the next words he needed to. Without having to look at Jacob’s expression full of anxiety that would no doubt sear through to his heart, he could be honest.

“I think, though,” Ollie muttered. “You should go.”

The silence, once again, lingered. Eventually, feeling Jacob move away, Ollie opened his eyes. Jacob stood and nodded.

“You’re right. We need to park this and revisit when Daisy’s out of hospital and once you’ve sorted things with the doctor.”

Ollie bit his bottom lip and looked away, nodding. It hadn’t really been the reaction he had expected. With how things had been with Jacob before, he had expected the man to fight to stay. To reenact their previous, and undeniable, passion. That he’d so easily stood and accepted Ollie’s request made Ollie’s chest tighten. He knew it was stupid. What he had said, he meant. Just his heart had obviously wanted a different sequence of events.

“I’ll see you later, then,” Jacob mumbled and zipped up the jacket he hadn’t bothered taking off. “At the hospital.”

Ollie nodded. Again. He stayed where he was, listening out for the front door handle twisting. As it opened, Ollie shot up. He hurtled down the corridor and grabbed Jacob’s arm to yank him back, pull him closer, and kiss him. Messily.

He couldn’t deny the overriding heat that surged through him. He’d never felt such longing before, especially when Jacob returned the kiss with equal fervor. Slamming Ollie against the adjacent wall, Jacob dived in to taste him and slid his hands up the tight-fitting material of Ollie’s top, ruffling it up to grapple at the skin beneath. Ollie was sure neither of them were even breathing at this point. Jacob crushed his groin against Ollie’s, letting him feel the increased hardness concealed within. Ollie groaned. He shouldn’t do this. He couldn’t do this. Not again. So used to making the same mistake again and again, Ollie began to regain some composure.

He rammed his palms into Jacob’s chest and urged him away. Jacob staggered back, and no more words were needed. A small smile formed on Ollie’s lips, and he wiped away the saliva slathering them. Their eyes did the talking for a moment, until Ollie realized he did need to speak. To explain, perhaps. The mixed messages he was giving this man weren’t going unnoticed. By either of them, he presumed.

“I’m sorry.” Ollie pushed away from having been pinned up against the wall. Again. “I do want you. I do. But let’s go slow.”

It was Jacob’s turn to nod. He slid his hand onto Ollie’s cheek, rubbing a thumb along the stubble. Leaning farther in, Jacob kissed his forehead, and Ollie’s eyes fluttered to a close at the sweet, intimate gesture. Ollie smiled, as was natural, and Jacob returned it awkwardly before exiting. Ollie banged his temple against the hard wood of the door, attempting to knock his sense back in.

He got back into the living area in time to see the leftover coffee vibrate with the slamming of the heavy entrance doors below. Ollie rushed over to his balcony window. Sliding it carefully apart, he peered down at the waves of dark hair below battling with the heavy gust of wind. Ollie sucked in a breath. He wanted to call out, tell the man to come back, forget the right thing to do and let their hearts rule. The way they had done before. Until Jacob pulled out his mobile phone, scrolled a few times and lifted it to his ear. Ollie told his heart to stop hammering so he could listen.

“You there?”

They were the only words Ollie could hear as Jacob nodded and trotted across the road, narrowly missing a passing car, and heading toward the Tube station. Ollie shut his window, along with his eyes. He wished his heart would shut the fuck up too.

Because he really didn’t want to feel it.

* * * *

“I’m not sure about the lemon one, but the mint is almost like the menthols.”

Ollie nodded idly—his neck was starting to get repetitive strain injury from it. He stopped on approaching the entrance to the hospital, having not had any sleep whatsoever that day. He’d decided to meet Taya before work for a chat in the hope that she would take his mind off things. They had walked through the freezing rain to work, fitting snugly under one umbrella, and it had mainly been Taya doing all the talking. Still, that wasn’t particularly unusual.

She blew out a different set of smoke, or steam, or whatever the hell it was from her pink vapor, grimaced, and waggled her tongue.

“Makes your tongue go funny,” she said with a pout.

“Why don’t you just go the whole hog?” Ollie suggested. “Cut it all. The gum, the patches, and the vapes?”

“Because I need something, Ollie darling. Not all of us can shut off our needs so easily.”

She prodded him in the chest and sucked up another lungful with the bubbles gurgling through the fluorescent plastic tube, then wafted the sweeter-smelling exhalation into the rain.

“So, anyway.” She tucked the contraption into her oversized bag held on her shoulder and snapped shut their shared umbrella, shaking out the droplets to join the puddles on the pavement. “Are we expecting Doctor Dick to make a scene here today?”

Ollie glanced through the automatic sliding doors. The hospital had always been his Mecca. The welcoming glass frontage and brightly decorated reception area, the smiles on arrival, and the sounds of children playing to drown out their fear: it had all contributed to him loving and feeling a proud part of the iconic London landmark. Now, though, his stripped-raw nerves made it difficult to set foot inside. He hadn’t told Taya everything, although she was figuring stuff out all by herself. She did that. Bitch.

“I don’t know. I’m hoping he can’t. I mean, we’re both at fault here, right?”

“It’s not against the rules to date a doctor.” Taya tapped her pink Crocs on the pavement, shoving the umbrella into her bag. She glanced back up to catch Ollie’s eye. “But a patient? Well, that’s different.”

“He’s not a patient,” Ollie grumbled. “Obviously.”

“Okay.” Taya rooted around in her bag for a pack of nicotine gum. She popped one out of the foil pack and shoved it into her mouth. “A patient’s father is also on the don’t-touch list.”

Ollie hung his head and scratched the nape of his neck.

“Isn’t it lucky?” Taya continued, almost a little too chipper, and slapped Ollie on the arm to shove him nearer to the automatic doors. “That you don’t have any feelings?”

“No.”

The reception area seemed different, somehow. Quieter than usual. Only a few straggler mums with children in buggies or wheelchairs queued at the dispensing chemist to the left, and one lone child sat on the rock pool projection clapping his hands to catch the animated fish. The purple-T-shirt-wearing volunteer once again welcomed them in with her practiced smile.

“Like you, my resolution just merged into a different vice.”

“Oh, yeah?” Taya slammed her palm on the lift’s Call button. “What’s that?”

“Instead of not feeling a thing, I decided to just feel everything.”

Taya snorted. “TMI, hun.”

Ollie pushed the back of her head, and she staggered into the lift with a chuckle. As Ollie joined her, all he could think about was the time he had spent in just such a space with Jacob. He shut his eyes to block out the memory of being pinned to a wall.

The doors slid open, and he and Taya hopped out. Taya bounded off to get changed in the female staff room, and Ollie trudged on toward the men’s, his heartbeat on overdrive. He had a sudden urge to hook it up to one of the obs machines just to hear the incessant shrill it would no doubt give off. Taking a few deep breaths in the hope of calming himself, he pulled down his scrubs top and stuck his smile back on his face. This smile was an all-new category. It came under a new column—the forgotten-how-to-smile smile.

Slamming open the doors to the cardiology ward, he desperately tried to keep his facial greeting fixed on his lips for the day nurses who would all welcome his arrival. Not because of him, exactly, but more because it meant they could bugger off home. At the nurses’ station Patty greeted him with a nod and handed over a mound of blue card files. Ollie skimmed through them, checking the names on the front to see if there were any changes or new ones added. A loud thump of cotton sheets being discarded outside the door to room one made Ollie jump. He adjusted his glasses on his nose and squinted to look through the darkness between the closed blinds. Whipping around, he flicked through the files once more and swallowed. “What happened to Daisy Monroe?”

Patty slipped her arms through her rain mac and zipped the knee-length coat right up to the collar. “Discharged. One less patient tonight. You’ll be pleased.”

Ollie swallowed fiercely. He spun on his heel, the soft pumps squeaking on the freshly washed floor. “Patty?” he called, before she had a chance to escape. “Were both sets of parents informed?”

Patty nodded and pushed open the swinging doors. “Yes, dear,” she replied. “Mother was here, and I called the father. Had to leave a message as he didn’t answer. Her file has gone to outpatients.”

Ollie nodded, gratefully, and the searing pain made its way down his neck and across his tense shoulders. He smiled, the unnerving one, and slammed the files down onto the counter.

So that was that.