Page 20 of Healing Her (Pulse Medical #1)

A scant handful of weeks later, things were distinctly less fun.

Two blocks from Oakridge, Jen pulled into the parking garage at the Beverly Center with a sigh. Her mood, buoyant when they’d left her apartment, had plummeted into cave-like depths, as it always did when it came to the end of her time with Ashley.

It was absurd to her that they, two grown career women, were skulking around like this.

Yes, skulking. She couldn’t see it any other way.

They hardly spoke at the hospital. They certainly didn’t eat meals together there.

Or anywhere, for that matter. In the three weeks since their encounter at the Claiburne, every torrid, split-second kiss in a quiet hospital storage room, each bed-burning evening in one of their homes…

it had all been clandestine, planned on the down low, in surreptitious whispers and text conversations.

Never once had there been a dinner out, not even a sandwich in the hospital cafeteria.

Last week, Jen had walked through the hospital lobby after dropping Ashley off.

She’d intended to get a chai latte from Bryce’s cart, but to her surprise, Ashley had managed to beat her there.

Jen began to walk up and join her, but the alarmed widening of Ashley’s eyes coupled with a panicked sidelong glance at Elaine Martin by her side made Jen back away and flee upstairs for the surgeon’s lounge and the machine there.

It felt… a bit dirty, if she was being honest.

“Earth to Jen.” Ashley’s voice was light, even affectionate. Her words were followed by her leaning over the gearshift and planting a soft kiss on Jen’s cheek. “This is my stop. See you in a bit?”

“Sure thing,” Jen replied, her mind continuing to wander as Ashley got out of Jen’s car and headed for her own, parked a few slots away.

They would indeed see each other in a bit, and she would be kept firmly at arm’s length.

At night, they had incredible, intimate talks and electric sex.

In the daytime, she was held apart. At home she was Jen. At work, she was Dr. Colton.

This is not how she had pictured this going when she’d approached Ashley in that rooftop garden.

Well, to be fair, she hadn’t at all been sure about what would happen that night, but in the end, she had not imagined that it would lead to whatever this was now.

They were so close at night, yet so hurtfully far apart in the harsh light of day.

It was a week until Christmas. She’d been thinking of asking Ashley to accompany her to the Indigo Lounge holiday party in a couple of days, there was going to be a concert with Mia Cortes and other local talent, but… no. Not when things were so underground, unsettled, and weirdly shameful feeling.

Jen shook herself out of her funk and pulled her car out of the parking garage. Today she really did want a chai latte, so she had to beat Ashley to the hospital, or stand in line with an icky feeling in the pit of her stomach as Ashley thoroughly ignored her.

But she didn’t even make it to the coffee cart today.

As she walked through the double doors of the hospital entrance, her cellphone buzzed in her pocket.

“Hi, Steve,” she greeted the Chief as she answered, butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

There could be only one reason why he’d call her instead of texting her if he had a question.

“There’s a heart,” he replied curtly, not bothering with a greeting. “Get here as soon as you can.”

“I just walked in the door; I’ll see you shortly.” She clicked off and glanced over to the coffee cart line, where sure enough, there was Ashley with Elaine Martin. Their gazes locked as Ashley, a curious expression on her face, pulled her phone out of her bag. Her brown eyes went wide with shock.

“I’ll come right up,” she informed Steve loud enough for Jen to hear. Then she leaned over to Elaine and whispered in her ear quickly before patting her on the shoulder and making a beeline for the elevator bank.

Jen hustled over to meet her there just as she was punching the button for the surgical wing.

She ignored the frustrated glance Ashley shot her as they entered the elevator car together, choosing instead to wave away a pair of oncology doctors she vaguely knew as she hit the Close Doors button.

“We’ve got to make a plan here,” she began, working to keep her voice steady.

She was so excited for Maria, it was difficult. “We only have a mere matter of hours.”

Ashley was distant, her eyes fixed on the elevator doors. “I have a plan. I’ve been prepared for this.”

Jen pushed down a surge of annoyance. “Care to let me in on it? Remember, I have to be on the surgical team. Maria expects it, and Steve did say I’m to be involved.”

“I haven’t forgotten, and I still don’t agree with it.” Ashley glanced down at her and the flash of irritation in her eyes was a knife to Jen’s heart. “I maintain that you’re just too close to the patient for this to be a good idea.”

Blinking back tears at the detached coolness in Ashley’s voice, such a contrast from the affectionate tones of just fifteen minutes ago, Jen focused on her shiny black Blundstone boots.

“I was there for the LVAD installation, and it went just fine, Doctor Proctor.” She swallowed back the lump in her throat and looked up at Ashley, trying to will her to meet her eyes.

Cautiously, she reached out and placed her hand on Ashley’s arm. “Ash…”

That got Ashley’s attention, and Jen knew immediately the diminutive nickname had been a grave mistake. Ashley gazed down at her with incredulity in her eyes. “Doctor Colton, I’ll overlook that inappropriate intimacy for now, but please make sure it never happens again.”

Before Jen could gather up the remnants of her shattered heart, the elevator arrived on the surgical wing, and Ashley slipped out as soon as there was a wide enough opening in the doors, hurrying to the Chief’s office.

Jen trailed behind, surreptitiously wiping a tear away as she let herself into the floor’s gender-neutral bathroom and locked the door behind her.

Then, and only then, did she give way to her hurt feelings and burst into sobs that she muffled into a crumpled handful of rough paper towel.

Jen sat quietly by Maria’s bedside in the post-anesthesia surgical care unit on the VIP floor. The clicks and beeps of monitoring equipment surrounded them, but it was otherwise quiet in the recovery area. Maria’s hand in hers was still, but soft and warm. Jen squeezed it gently.

It was late at night now. She never had gotten her chai, or even a coffee from the surgeon’s lounge.

Once she’d recovered from her crying fit in the bathroom, she’d joined the emergency coordination meeting in Steve’s office with Ashley and the rest of the transplant team.

They’d worked out a comprehensive plan quickly, thanks to Ashley’s diligent preparation efforts.

Ashley had avoided eye contact the entire time. Hadn’t directly addressed Jen unless she had to. Had certainly not involved Jen in the prep discussion except to give her terse commands and instructions on what her role would be.

But it had all gone smoothly. Jen did have to admit that Ashley’s rigid compartmentalizing and thorough planning had resulted in a very orderly and virtually complication-free surgery.

The whole thing had taken seven hours on the dot, and then Maria had been wheeled up to recovery.

Jen tried to talk to Ashley afterward, but was, to her deep hurt, brushed off.

Ashley had gone off with Elaine Martin and the Chief, and Jen had scrubbed out and trudged to her office to gather herself together before heading up to sit at Maria’s bedside.

Where she’d now been for several more hours as other doctors and nurses bustled in and out of the room.

Ashley hadn’t, yet. By all rights she should have, but it didn’t take long for Jen to realize the bulk of the post-surgical checks and balances were being left in her hands.

Partly, she thought, out of kindness as Ashley was well aware of Jen and Maria’s closeness.

And partly out of efficiency, since Ashley wasn’t stupid and knew she would never be able to pry Jen away from Maria’s side.

But it was also, she thought, probably a way for Ashley to keep her busy and at arm’s length, and that was a fresh stab of hurt in her own heart any time she thought too hard about it.

Maria’s eyes fluttered open ever so slightly, and Jen leaned forward, her grip on Maria’s hand tightening. “Maria. Hi.”

“Jen. Querida .” Her free hand drifted up weakly to touch her chest, where the fresh and tidy incision was under her nightgown. “Ouch.”

“We can take care of that.” Jen pressed the call button for a nurse, who arrived quickly. “Let’s get her some morphine, she’s awake and in pain.”

With a nod, the nurse set to her task, checking Maria’s pulse, her temperature, and getting the medicine injected into her IV. She disappeared out the door with a, “I’ll let Doctor Proctor know she’s awake,” casually tossed over her shoulder.

Maria sank into her pillows and watched Jen blearily. “It went well?”

“It went beautifully.” Jen smiled at her friend. “I held your old heart in my own two hands. I thanked it for all it had done for you.”

“As I would have. You know me so well.” Maria’s smile was faint. “And the new heart?”

“It’s good. Strong. We didn’t even need to shock it to get it going once we had it connected in your chest.” She brushed a stray wisp of hair back out of Maria’s face. “You’ll go on for years, I’m sure of it.”

“Who’s the donor? Can I know?” Her eyes were bright with curiosity. “Can I thank their family?”