Page 51 of About that Fling (The Can’t Have Hearts Club #2)

Jenna nodded, grateful at least for that. She looked at Adam. He still hadn’t said a word, and his face was stony and pale. She started to reach out and touch his hand, then stopped herself. She kept her hands in her lap, fingers clenched in a sweaty knot.

“Adam? You okay?”

“Yeah.” He raked his fingers through his hair, making it stand up on end. “I just can’t imagine what she’s feeling right now.”

He stopped, and Jenna nodded. “I know. I keep seeing the look on her face.”

All three of them fell silent, waiting. In the background, machinery beeped and medical staff called out to each other about detox and defibrillators and dinner breaks.

The smell of disinfectant floated around them like an angry cloud, mixing with the scent of spilled coffee near a grimy coffee pot on a table beside Adam.

In the corner, a woman sat with red-rimmed eyes, knitting something that looked like a scarf.

Gertie reached out and touched Jenna’s knee. “It isn’t your fault.”

Jenna looked up. “What?”

“I know you,” Gert said. “And I know you’re sitting there thinking about how you could have done something different to change this.

Maybe if you’d called Mark and told him how upset Mia was about the class, or maybe if you’d taken a right turn instead of a left one on the way to the restaurant.

There’s nothing you could have done differently, Jenna. ”

She felt her eyes filling with tears, and she blinked them back. “I could have done a lot of things differently. I could have avoided lying to my best friend. Betraying her. Hurting her on what’s turning out to be one of the worst days of her life.”

Gertie shook her head. “We all make mistakes, sweetie. You, me, Mark, Mia, Adam. We’re all just bumping around together on this planet, trying to do the best we can for ourselves and each other. But there’s only so much we can control.”

She felt Adam stir beside her, and turned to look at him. His face was creased in shadows, and he looked ten years older than he had on their car ride to Seattle. Jesus, that trip felt like a lifetime ago.

Adam looked up, seeming to feel her eyes on him. He stared at her for a moment, then reached over and took her hand. She thought about pulling back. About telling him this was the last thing in the world they should be doing right now.

But his palm felt warm and solid, so she let her lungs expand, then contract and expand again.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken a deep breath, so she kept her hand in his, savoring the connection and the oxygen.

What was it about him that made her breathe easier, feel safe and secure and calm even while everything around them spun out of control.

A nurse stepped through a set of double doors from the ER and looked around. Her eyes landed on Jenna, and she walked toward them with purpose, her expression unreadable.

“Ms. McArthur?”

“Yes,” Jenna said, letting go of Adam’s hand as she stood up.

“Mia Dawson asked me to come find you.”

“How’s Mark? Can I see him? Can I see Mia or?—”

“I’m sorry, Ms. McArthur. You’re not allowed back there. Family only.”

“But what’s Mark’s condition?”

“As you know, HIPAA allows us to give a one-word condition report.”

Jenna froze, recognizing the stilted language she’d used so many times with nosy journalists and visitors. “I—yes, I understand.”

“Mr. Dawson is in fair condition.”

Jenna nodded, her brain running through the different terms. “Fair” was better than “serious” or “critical,” but it wasn’t “good.” It wasn’t “treated and released.”

And it wasn’t the information Jenna would get if Mia had given her permission to share more. Mia knew hospital rules. All she had to do was sign the form, give the okay to release more detail and let them know what was happening.

Jenna sat down, feeling numb. Adam reached for her hand again. “She probably just didn’t have time.”

Jenna turned to look at him, barely recognizing his features. “What?”

“To sign the HIPAA forms. That’s what you’re thinking, right? She’s deliberately shutting you out?”

“I don’t?—”

“We’ll wait here,” Gertie said, reaching out to take Jenna’s other hand. “Until there’s more news, we’ll be right here.”

The nurse nodded. “Okay then. If I’m able to tell you more, I will.”

“Thank you,” Jenna said.

The nurse vanished the same way she’d come, the double doors making an impersonal swoosh as she passed. For a moment, none of them spoke. They sat with their hands linked together, connected in pain and desperate hope.

“So we wait,” Adam said, the first to break the silence.

“I guess so,” Jenna said, and squeezed his hand so tightly it hurt.

Adam wasn’t sure who fell asleep first. He woke sometime around seven in the morning, his back stiff and his legs asleep. Jenna’s hand lay limp in his, and her head lay heavy on his shoulder.

He watched her for a moment, studying the rise and fall of her chest and the way her hair fell over his arm. She was beautiful, even now with tear tracks smudging her cheeks and her hair matted to the side of her face.

She’d taken Gertie home sometime after midnight, insisting someone who’d broken a hip in the last year needed a good night’s sleep in a bed instead of a hard plastic chair.

Gertie had tried to argue, but Adam had watched the relief fill her eyes, the way she winced as she stretched out her sore leg.

Aside from that short run home, Jenna hadn’t left her seat all night. Neither had Adam, and his body ached from it.

His heart ached for other reasons.

Trying not to disturb Jenna, he pulled his phone from his pocket.

No messages.

What had he expected, really? A text from Mia saying, Just wanted you to know the guy I left you for is in good condition .

Still, it would have been nice to hear something. He’d stirred briefly around 3:00 a.m. when there’d been a shift change in the nursing staff, but no one had come to talk to them. Did Mia know they were all out here waiting? Was Mark still in the ER, or had he been moved to surgery?

Adam lingered on that thought for a moment. In the three years since the divorce, he’d had plenty of unkind thoughts about Mark. What kind of man takes another man’s wife? What kind of man swoops in when a relationship is in trouble, weaseling his way into the cracks of a broken marriage?

A man with faults. An imperfect man. A man who makes mistakes.

A man not unlike himself.

Part of him would always hate Mark. But right then, he said a small prayer the guy would pull through.

He felt Jenna stir and shoved his phone back in his pocket. She sat up, blinking in the harsh light of the fluorescent bulbs above. She turned to look at him, her eyes still blurry with sleep. “What time is it?”

“A little after seven.”

“No word?”

“Nothing. Check your phone though, maybe she messaged you.”

Jenna nodded, tucking her hair behind her ears as she bent down to rummage through her purse. She pulled out her phone and sat up, frowning at the screen. He watched her, trying to gauge her expression.

“Anything from Mia?”

“No.” Jenna slid a finger across the screen, her frown deepening. “But there’s an e-mail from Kendall Freemont in Human Resources.”

“This early? What does it say?”

He watched her eyes move as she scanned the words. The color drained slowly from her face, and Adam felt his gut clench. “What is it?” he asked again.

“She’s asking me to report to her office at eight-thirty this morning,” Jenna said, moving her finger on the screen to scroll down. “She says it’s an urgent meeting regarding Belmont Health System’s employee fraternization policy.”

A chill snaked down his spine, and Adam forced himself to stay calm. “Is there anything else?”

Jenna nodded, her eyes wide and fearful as they met his. “Yes,” she said. “It’s addressed to both of us.”