Page 70 of Paging Dr. Breakup
“Stop worrying. I’m stable.” He studied her. “Who worries about you, Deirdre?”
“Sorry, what?”
“My parents fret about me.”
“Their job is to worry. They’re your parents.”
“True. I’m sure Mav checks in with you.”
“Of course. When he’s not living his own life.” She frowned and he wanted to smooth those lines with a fingertip. “Where are you going with this?”
“You’re so busy looking after everyone else.” He locked her gaze with his. “Who cares for you when you need it? When you’re hurt.”
The catch in her breath and stricken expression came and went in a split second. “I don’t have a head injury or living parents, so I’m fine.” Her voice cracked. “Thanks for asking.”
She huffed and rearranged the water container and the TV remote on the bedside stand. The busyness didn’t mask the shimmer in her eyes.
Fine, she could avoid the subject for now. But not forever.
Her prickly response to his probing questions actually made him feel more normal. It made the relationship seem real.
Itwasreal. He hadn’t fully realized it until right now.
“So sorry we missed dinner tonight,” he said.
“You had a good excuse.” She pulled a chair up next to the bed, so they were at eye level. “It’s okay, Calvin. We don’t have to pretend to date.”
“No more pretending.”
A flicker of pain creased her forehead. “We shouldn’t be having this conversation here. You are concussed. You need to rest.”
Something shifted inside of him. “My skull might be cracked, but I know what I want.” He reached for her hand. “I’m tired of wasting time and avoiding the truth.”
He deserved happiness, and this was his chance.
Damn. Hitting his head had apparently knocked some sense loose. Or activated the part of his brain that forced him to get in touch with his feelings and face his fears. He swallowed.
Deirdre’s gaze slid to their joined hands. “Well, let’s start by talking about our game plan for the Breakup Festival.”
After a few seconds, he squeezed her hand as his eyelids dropped. “Okay. We’ll begin there,” he mumbled. “Eventually, we still need to discussus.”
“Deal.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Afew dayslater on Sunday morning, Deirdre’s phone rang, shooting her from half asleep to sitting bolt upright in mere seconds. A wave of sweat dampened her flannel pajamas; her heart pounded. Glancing at the clock, she grimaced. 9:32 a.m. She looked around. She was in her own house. Not in the hospital.
For the first time in a long time, she had slept in. It was a miracle. No personal emergencies, no last-minute staffing issues, no need to cover at the lodge.
Following on the heels of relief was an icy spike of fear as the phone rang again. Calvin. Her heart stuttered. No, it was okay. This was Calvin. He was alive. His CT scans and neuro evaluations had been stable.
After his parents had arrived in the hospital Thursday morning, she had gone to work, like any other day. He had been discharged that afternoon.
Then Friday morning before work, she had stopped by Bruce and Aggie’s to briefly visit with Calvin. See? He was fine then, too.
But… there was always the chance that something could change.
God, at what point would she stop letting fear control her?
