Page 39 of Until Waverly

“Oui, oui,” he joked. “Since it’s visiting hours, I ordered you some breakfast and allowed two visitors for you this morning. It appears only one is here.”

“Thank you, Dr. Jay,” I said, not sure who would be waiting to see me.

“Don’t thank me yet. Next step after that cast comes off is physical therapy.”

I groaned. “You’re sadistic.”

He laughed, opening the door to leave. “Have a good morning. I’ll be around later to check on you. Or one of my residents will, should someone need me in the OR.”

“Thank you.” The door closed behind him, and I groaned. Saturday? Today was Saturday? Holy shit. Not only was Alandria alone with her father, but my parents had to have been worried sick about me. I needed to call home. Scratch that, I wanted to go home.

Today.

I glanced around the room for my phone but couldn’t see it for all the IV lines still attached to me. Each time I moved, my ankle and leg reminded me I was injured and shouldn’t be doing anything. Did I listen? No. Doctors and nurses made the worst patients. We knew too damn much about the body and none of the instructions we gave patients seemed to pertain to us. If my ankle didn’t hurt as badly as it did, I’d laugh.

I sat forward and instantly remembered I hadn’t pumped since before the lockdown and groaned. I didn’t even want to think about the mess I was going to have to clean up. Yet, my breasts weren’t tight, nor did they feel full. I pushed the thought aside as I tried to peer through the darkness of my room to see if my phone was just on some table away from me.

No such luck.

Damn it.

A quick knock on the door came before it opened, and the one person I didn’t think I would ever see again strode into my room. Honestly, he looked like shit. Jackson had huge purple and black smudges under his eyes. His lip were puffy, like maybe he’d been hit by someone—none of my business—and exhaustion had his shoulders hunching inward. Yet, for all of how bad he appeared, my stomach still fluttered with excitement. My heart pounded because he was near. This was Jackson. The boy I loved. The boy I’d lost to some svelte woman who was older and probably more experienced than I’d ever be.

More Jackson’s speed too.

“You’re awake,” Jackson’s rough voice sent a bolt of desire to my chest. “I thought you’d still be sleeping.”

So, he didn’t want anyone to know he’d been there? Wait, why was he in her room? He had Alandria. What else could he possibly take from me, especially now when I was defenseless? “Just woke up.”

He sagged in relief. Or had I read too much into his actions? “That’s great. Everyone has been so worried.” He scrubbed the back of his head while his face was bent. His gaze never met mine. He looked at everythingbutme. “Your mom and dad have been beside themselves. Macey too.” Jackson took a seat on the small couch across from me and braced his forearms on his knees.

“Where’s Alandria?” I had to know she was okay. If she was safe, then I could heal and get back to her quicker.

“I have gone over this conversation for the last four days in my head,” Jackson murmured, his voice so low I thought I was hearing things. “This isn’t how I thought it would start out.” Finally, he lifted his head, and his brilliant green eyes, eyes I’d gotten lost in so many times in the past were haunted and filled with misery and questions.

Could I have read everything wrong?

No. I’d seen Jackson with that woman together. Seen how close they were. How the woman gazed at him and the way he ate up her affection like he’d been starved. I didn’t matter. He didn’t get to play the wounded party card. Not while I was in the hospital. Not after everything I’d been through alone. “What conversation.”

“What discussion?” There wasn’t an ounce of humor in his chuckle as he shook his head. “You had my daughter, Waverly. You didn’t think it was important to tell me that?”

Oh, that conversation.

I didn’t want to have it. I’d tried to show him when those two blue lines showed a positive test, and that had been a disaster. Alandria and I were fine. I didn’t need Jackson for any reason. “Can we talk about all that later? When I’m not in the hospital?” The words sat on the tip of my tongue to tell him to leave and just bring Alandria to my mom, but I didn’t say them. He deserved time with his daughter. I wouldn’t keep her from him—anymore.

“Give me something,” he murmured. “Some reason you would actively push me out.”

I bit my lip. I was in pain, laid up because of my injury, and he wanted a motive for why I walked away? “I think you should go.”

“I won’t. Never.”

I stared at him. Why was he being this stubborn? Why did he care? He had someone else. I bet, because she didn’t like a crying baby, she left Jackson, and now he was going to crawl back to me. Well, I had morals and ethics. Even if he begged me to, I wouldn't allow him in my life. I didn’t want to argue though. I owed him an explanation because I wasn’t innocent either. I could have texted him and told him. If I could go back in time, I would and change everything that happened between us.

At least where Alandria was concerned.

Maybe, knowing the truth now, I could have saved myself the heartache then. I wouldn’t have had sex with him. I would have used my brain and not my heart. I’d have seen through his soft words and drugging kisses to observe the man beneath the mask he wore. Maybe then I’d be able to move on with my life and be a better person. Not someone who did despicable things like hiding a pregnancy from her whole family while using schooling and work as a reason I didn’t come home.

Still, I couldn’t push the words past my lips. I lay there, staring at him. This gorgeous man who appeared so lost and frail as he sat on the couch across from me, buried in his thoughts. This boy who conned me with a charming smile and whirlwind desire that sucked me up, then spat me out. How did I ever explain any of this to him? How did I ever tell him how I felt without losing a piece of me?

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