Page 56 of Dr. Stone (Billionaires’ Club #9)

FORTY-SIX

Jace

I was stepping onto the boat after stopping by a coffee shop to get my lady a piping-hot cup of coffee when Andie called.

“Hey, gorgeous,” I said, smiling into the phone.

“Hey, handsome,” she responded in a weak, hoarse voice that instantly troubled me. “I’m so sorry to do this, but I don’t think I can make it.”

“Don’t be sorry,” I said. “Is everything okay?”

I heard her sigh. “I think I have a pretty bad case of food poisoning…” She paused, and her breathing was heavy.

I could tell it was a struggle to get through the call. “Oh, no, not food poisoning. I feel that pain. How do you think you got it?”

“It must’ve been the crab dip I was snacking on at my parents’ house. I took a few bites after I got there, and I started to feel a bit sick after I left the house. I barely made it to my place before it hit me hard.”

“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry,” I said, feeling awful for her. “Let me come over and take care of you. Last time I got food poisoning was during my fellowship in Boston, and I was on death’s door for three days.”

“That’s exactly where I feel I am,” she said. “I’m sorry for the last-minute cancellation, but don’t worry about me. I’m just going to go to bed.”

“Are you sure? If I’m there, I can get you anything you need while you suffer through this. I have to study for a major surgery scheduled the day after tomorrow, so I can do that while you sleep all day tomorrow.”

“God, you really are perfect. The best, actually.”

I furrowed my eyebrows, the unease settling deep in my gut like a weight I couldn’t shake. She wasn’t just sick. Something was off, and my mind ran through every possibility, each worse than the last. Was she pulling away? Was I losing her before I even had the chance to hold on?

“I feel the same about you. Let me come over and help you out.”

“Honestly, I just need to lie down. If I need anything, I’ll call you.”

“Yes, please do,” I said earnestly, not wanting to push her when she didn’t feel well. “Go rest, gorgeous. I’ll leave the ringer on tonight just in case.”

“Thanks.”

We ended the call, and I glanced down at the coffee I bought her, seeing it still steaming, and frowned.

I wished I’d found the right words to get her to trust me enough to let me help, but I didn’t want to push her.

So, instead of heading home, I decided to spend the night on the sailboat, figuring I’d cover it up and pack it away in the morning, maybe get back out on it in a couple of weeks if I was lucky.

The evening was nice, but for the first time since meeting Andie, it didn’t feel like the escape it usually did for me.

I felt unsettled, not knowing what I should do to help my sick lady.

Fuck. This was the part where I felt like I was about to fuck things up.

Wondering if showing up would be too much, but then, if I didn’t, would she think I didn’t care?

The next morning, after putting the boat away, I pulled out my phone and checked for a text.

Nothing. It was nine in the morning; she should be up by now.

Fuck. Maybe she was still sleeping. When I got food poisoning, I was laid out for three days.

What if she’d been up all night and hadn’t slept at all?

I just decided to make the damn call. I was not a man who sat around overthinking shit. When I needed answers, I got them. More importantly, perhaps just calling and leaving a message would be enough for her to know I was here for her if she needed anything, and I was thinking about her.

“Hey, gorgeous,” I said after her voicemail picked up the call. “I hope you’re feeling better today. I’m just checking in on you. I’ll be at my house all day studying for that surgery, so if you need anything, call.”

I ended the call, feeling a bit more at ease but hating this feeling of helplessness.

Something wasn’t sitting right with my black-and-white way of processing things.

Thank God I was excellent at compartmentalizing things and throwing myself into work, though, because that would be the only thing to keep this off my mind.

By seven that night, after hours of diagrams and valve replacement data, I couldn’t pretend anymore. If I didn’t see her, I wouldn’t be able to breathe. I stopped at the store, grabbed ginger ale, crackers, anything that might help, and drove straight to her place.

I left her a voicemail on the way: Heading over to check on you.

Andie opened the door in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. Her hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, but her beautiful face had no color, and her stunning eyes were dull with dark circles under them.

“Hey,” she whispered.

I cupped her cheek, thumb brushing the dark circle under her eye. “That’s the last time I let you push me away when you’re sick,” I murmured, kissing her forehead.

Her smile was weak. “Thank you.”

“I brought you a few remedies.” I lifted the bag. “Mind if I come in?”

“If you stay, I’ll probably just fall asleep on you.”

“That would be a dream,” I teased, following her inside.

Andie curled up on the couch, pulling her chenille throw over her as she tucked herself into the pillow like it was her safe place. I stood there for a moment, watching her, my chest aching with the helpless urge to take away her pain.

“Let me put this shit in the pantry, and I’ll join you.”

She mumbled something as I rushed to get everything put away in record time so I could join her on the couch. I settled in so she could rest her head and pillow on my lap, and then I gently stroked her forehead.

“That feels wonderful,” she said, letting out a breath it seemed she’d been holding in the entire time I’d been here.

“That crab dip nailed your ass,” I said. “I’m so sorry.”

She softly chuckled in my lap, “How did your studying go today?”

“I think I’ve got enough down to march in there with Jake and help pull off a damn miracle tomorrow. At least, I hope so.”

“Wow, is it a hard one?”

“It’s a monster. It’ll be twelve hours minimum on a kid who has a congenital valve defect. Jake and I are leading it.”

“You’ll save him,” she whispered, drifting off.

I stared at her, taking in the shape of her mouth and the way her body rested against me, like it instinctively trusted I’d keep her safe.

But there was something more—something I hadn’t felt since those first enamored thoughts about her took hold.

It was the overwhelming urge to protect her.

To scoop her up, take her back to my place, and let her sleep soundly with me holding her until I had to leave for work in the morning.

As unfamiliar as these feelings were, they felt damn good, like they woke something up in me. Something that made me feel more alive than I already did, just being near her.

I leaned over, kissed the top of her head, and whispered, “Get better, sunshine.”

I pulled out my phone, opened the downloaded version of my medical journal, and finally settled into it. It was easier to focus now that Andie was safe, resting, and right here where I could watch over her for the next few hours.

The following week flew by, mostly because work kept my confused and increasingly frustrated ass consumed.

I barely had time to think, let alone process why I wasn’t getting real responses to the texts I’d sent Andie since I last saw her at her place when she was sick.

The few replies I did get throughout the week were vague and sporadic.

The last normal text I received from her came the night after she was sick, when she said she was feeling better.

After that, it was like I was talking to an entirely different person.

I texted her asking to come over, but she didn’t respond to that text until the next day in the afternoon with, ‘Sorry, I had to go get Brandon. Text you tomorrow…’

Tomorrow came and went. And so did the next.

Between being slammed at work and Andie suddenly acting distant as fuck, I needed answers. Today was my only day off before back-to-back surgeries tomorrow, and I couldn’t keep sitting in the dark like some lovesick idiot.

She hadn’t even returned my call last night—just a simple hey, you want to do something after work? Nothing heavy. Nothing that should’ve been hard to answer. And still… silence.

I wasn’t angry. Not yet. Just confused as hell. And holding on—clinging, if I was honest—to the last night I knew without a doubt that she was mine. The night she’d been curled on her couch, pale and shaky, tucked into my arms like I was the only place she felt safe.

That memory was starting to feel like a dream. And I hated how badly I needed it not to be.

Ring! Ring! R— … “Hi, you’ve reached Andie Miller. Please leave a message or send a text, and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”

Straight to voicemail. Shocking, I thought, hating every minute of this unexpected estrangement .

“Hey, Andie,” I said, leaving her a message.

“Listen, I don’t know what’s going on, but I feel like you’re avoiding me.

If you’re not okay, please tell me. If you need some space, say the word, and I’ll give it to you, but I can’t continue to make assumptions about what’s happening on your end or where that leaves us,” I paused, trying to get my inner surgeon to take over so I could leave my emotions out of this. “Please call me back.”

A minute later, my text alert dinged.

Andie: Can I come over after work?

Jace: I would like that.

I stared at the screen, everything in me tensing with more confusion than ever. What the fuck happened to create any of this shit?

Twenty minutes later, Andie was at my private gate, and I was walking out to greet her at her car.

She stepped out, looking exhausted and worn down, but not sick like the last time I saw her. She stood beside the car, staring at the house and the view around us in silence, like this would be the last time she’d ever be here.

“You look much better. I’m glad you’re feeling well. I’ve been worried about you,” I said honestly.

She stepped toward me but stopped just out of my reach. I ached to pull her into my arms, bury my face in her perfect neck, and breathe in that mango shampoo she always used. How was it possible to miss someone who’s standing right in front of you?

“I love that you came over the other night to take care of me without me asking,” she started, sounding like she didn’t want this rehearsed statement to be interrupted, or she’d crack. “And I love how amazing you’ve been to me and Brandon every time you’re with us.”

She smiled, but her eyes filled with tears, and I watched every flicker of pain move across her face as she spoke to me like I was a stranger.

“I do need to tell you something,” she said, closing her eyes and exhaling before pulling it together. “This isn’t easy, and I’m trying my hardest to get this out, so you understand that none of this is about you. It’s all me.”

I remained silent, staring at her red-rimmed eyes. I just needed her to be direct as fuck with the blow she was about to deliver to me.

“You’re everything a woman could want in a man. Everything I want in a man. But right now… I’m not okay.” Her voice cracked, then steadied with a breath. “I haven’t been okay in a long time.”

I sucked in a breath, waiting, bracing, every nerve on edge.

“I’m not in a place where I can give you what you deserve,” she said finally. Her voice wavered, but the words cut sharp. “Not fully, anyway. Even though I thought I was. Maybe things moved too fast between us, and I don’t even know why—why, a little over a month into this, we’re…”

She trailed off. My frown deepened.

“It’s all just moving too fast for me,” she whispered, eyes flicking away like she couldn’t bear to hold mine.

“I love how you make everything feel like life could be beautiful again, but I’m not ready for that.

Not right now. I thought I could keep up, but I can’t.

I have serious baggage I need to sort out, things I need to work through, and if I stay…

you’ll just end up in the crossfire. I’ll ruin everything before it has a chance to become what it should be. ”

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of whether you can hurt me?” I asked. My voice came out rough, unsteady. I didn’t plan to say it—it just ripped out of me, raw and honest.

Her chin trembled as she shook her head. “I have to do this,” she said firmly, forcing the words out like armor. “There aren’t any other options.”

I stood there, silent, trying to make sense of the wreckage she’d just dropped at my feet. Finally, all I could manage was, “So…is this goodbye?”

Her lips parted, trembling, and then she nodded. A single tear slid down her cheek before she swiped it away like she could erase the damage. “It’s not because of you. You’ve been…everything. More than I imagined.”

“You’ve been the same to me,” I said, and it was the truest thing I’d ever spoken. My chest felt numb, hollowed out, like the words were carved from bone.

“I have to go,” she whispered, her voice breaking even as she forced herself to hold it together.

“Andie—” I stepped toward her, desperate to say something, anything that might keep her from walking out of my life.

But she shook her head quickly, cutting me off before I could get another word out. “Please. Don’t. If you say anything, I won’t be able to leave. Just…let me go.”

Her eyes shimmered with tears as she turned, her body trembling like the weight of every step was crushing her. She climbed into her car, shutting the door with a finality that made my chest seize.

I stood there, frozen, watching as she pulled away, her taillights disappearing into the night. The red glow burned itself into my vision until the gate slowly closed behind her, locking me out of every possibility I’d let myself hope for.

Only when the silence swallowed the driveway whole did I finally move. I turned back toward the house, each step heavier than the last, the place that once felt like it could hold a future with her and Brandon now nothing more than a hollow box echoing with everything I’d lost.