Page 73 of The Choices I've Made
And, for once, I was putting my own needs first.
The next day, after avoiding a certain houseguest like the plague, life decided to punch me in the gut once again.
Most of the time, I loved living in a small town. When I was sick, people would bring me food. When there was a death in the community, everyone would gather and lift each other up.
But, when there was gossip, man, did it spread like wildfire.
And my kiss with Jake could have set a world record.
After serving my new guests, an adorable newly married couple from Oregon, my phone buzzed, showing a number I recognized instantly.
Dean.
Picking it up on the second ring, I heard his familiar voice summoning me to come visit him.
“We need to talk,” he said.
My heart plummeted, and although he didn’t say what it was regarding, I could only assume based on the timing.
I had nothing to feel ashamed about. After all, he had broken it off with me, using his mother no less as the messenger.
But I felt ashamed all the same.
The man I’d planned on marrying only a few days earlier was sitting in a hospital bed just hours up the road, and I’d acted like a fool in front of the entire town.
I left for the hospital that afternoon, feeling like the worst sort of creature on the face of the earth, and after the long drive up the coast, trying to come up with what I was going to say, I still had nothing as I walked through those double doors and asked for my visitor pass.
Part of me just wanted to turn around and run, but I didn’t. Dean and I had always been open and honest with each other. As much as I deserved answers for how he’d treated me, I owed him the same.
The trip up to the patient floor felt like an eternity. I was stuck in the elevator with an elderly couple going to meet their first grandchild. They were giddy, full of anticipation, with a huge bouquet of flowers for their daughter-in-law.
By the end of the thirty-second ride, I knew everything about them, including the name of the little girl, her weight and length, and how much she looked like their son—based on the pictures they’d seen.
I wished them good luck and hobbled out of the elevator. My ankle was still sore from my fall, but I refused to use the crutches Jake had given me. I’d limp my way toward recovery even if it took twice as long.
Feeling my heart leap as I rounded the corner toward Dean’s room, I was surprised to hear the sound of laughter coming from it. Considering I had been worried for his mental health the last time I was here, this was an abrupt turn of events.
Peeking my head in, I found his head pointed toward the TV, a bowl of ice cream in his lap, as he laughed at a rerun ofThat ’70s Show. I gave a light knock on the door to let him know I’d arrived. His head turned away from the TV, and his eyes met mine.
“Oh, hey!” he greeted me cheerfully. “Come on in.”
Not exactly the welcome I’d expected, but I went with it, giving him a friendly smile and warm hug. He returned it in spades, and I relished in the feeling of his arm around me, knowing how close we had come to losing him.
I pulled back, taking a seat near his bed. He curiously eyed me, setting his half-eaten bowl of ice cream on a nearby tray. Watching him use his one hand so efficiently was like seeing another person entirely. He’d shaved since I was last here, and he’d switched out the hospital gown and blanket for some of his own clothes—a graphic tee bearing the logo of his family’s business and an old pair of athletic shorts from high school.
“You look good,” I said, meaning every word.
He smiled. “Thanks. I feel good. Or, at least, I’m getting there.”
His eyes roamed over me just then. Not with the usual perusal of a male staking his claim, but more of a curious glance, as if he were taking stock of my well-being.
“How are you?” he asked as his gaze steadied on mine.
“Good, I think,” I answered with honesty.
“How are things at home?”
I shrugged. “My sister is home for a while.”
