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“I’mscared to let you back,” he said. “It’s not worth losing you.”

A familiar face pulled back the blue curtain behind Jimmy, and Dr. Webb stepped into the room. “Mrs. Nemitz. I’m sorry to see you again so soon. What happened?”

I asked Jimmy to walk him through my collapse while Dr. Webb examined me and read my chart. Eventually, he turned back to me from his notes. He wasn’t smiling. The sober-faced doctor said, “Melena, I think we’ve exhausted the benefit you can get from medication. Let’s talk next steps.”

I swallowed, my mouth dry. “Surgery?”

He nodded. “I can do the ablation this week. My usual surgery day is Thursday, and I’ll make room for you on the schedule. I’ll get the nurse to send you home with prep instructions; mostly no eating or drinking before the anesthesia.” He smiled at me. “We’ll get you fixed up later this week and get that ticker back in shape, okay?”

“I understand.”

Understood, yes. I needed the surgery. It wouldn’t destroy my bank account now that I had Jimmy’s health insurance behind me. But hearing the words still felt like the death of a dream. Taking time off was not going to help me build my business. I needed to schedule and see clients, not keep putting them off. Financially, I’d be fine. Jimmy had assured it. But work-wise, it was a major setback.

“What does recovery look like?” I asked.

I held my breath, waiting for Dr. Webb’s reply. He glanced up from his charting notes, and I tried to read the answer from his kind eyes. “It’ll take about eight weeks to fully recover.”

My mouth was dry, but I forced the words out. “Eight weeks without working?”

Jimmy’s left hand on my shoulder provided silent support, but it couldn’t change the doctor’s words. All of my clients would leave me. There were enough other therapists, I’d be done if I had to reschedule eight weeks’ worth of clients. It would take months if not years to rebuild.

Dr. Webb smiled. “No, eight weeks on your medication while the heart muscle heals. You should be able to return to work after a week.”

My shoulders slumped, and my heart raced, making me feel dizzy. Proof I needed the darn surgery. Still, relief coursed through me. Jimmy’s heat at my side reminded me I wasn’t alone, and I breathed slowly, trying to get my stupid heart under control.

Jimmy squeezed my right hand harder. He’d been quiet, but he looked like he was about to burst. “You can’t do it now?” Jimmy asked. “What if she passes out again? Is it safe for her to go home?”

Dr. Webb glanced at Jimmy, and his stern face relaxed at Jimmy’s obvious distress. “She’s fine. Lots of rest today, and no excitement this week. I’ll see her on Thursday.” He smiled reassuringly. The handsome bleeding out of every pore would be a problem if it were a vital fluid. Luckily, he didn’t make my heart race, unlike another certain someone. “Follow doctor’s orders, and you’ll be fine. I’ll see you in a couple of days.”

The nurse came in next and gave us instructions for release and information to prepare for surgery. Eventually they discharged me, and Jimmy took me home. He tried to convince me to let him carry me into the house, but I resisted. Once was enough, and I didn’t want to mar my memories of the first time. I was fully capable of walking.

“Can I get you anything?” Jimmy asked after settling me on the couch.

“Lunch?” I asked to give him something to do. I wasn’t hungry, but I could tell he was restless.

“Sure, what do you want?”

“Grilled cheese.”

“Done and done. Let me turn on a show for you while I make it. You stay on the couch, and I’ll bring it to you when it’s ready.”

It was wonderful that he wanted to care for me, but exhausting. Every time I twitched, Jimmy sprang to attention and asked what I needed. I could tell he was dying for action, and the forced calm was driving him nuts. Therefore, he was drivingmenuts.

“Jimmy, why don’t you go to the gym? Get a workout in?” I finally suggested after the fifth time he asked if I needed anything. I was content to hold down the couch and watch a show. He clearly wasn’t.

“I can’t leave you.”

“Sure, you can.”

“Well, I don’t want to, then.”

I levelled with him. “Jimmy, you’re driving me batty with all the hyper attentiveness. At this point, what I want is some peaceful time. Alone. Maybe I’ll start rescheduling clients. Please, go to the gym. You need it.”

His shoulders dropped, and I regretted my blunt words. He didn’t see I was trying to take care of him like he was taking care of me.

His voice was stiff. “If that’s what you really want. I know living together can be a lot. I’ll try to give you some space.”

“Jimmy, I didn’t mean it like that.”