Page 20

JENNA

M y back aches as I push myself up from the flower beds. I've been running myself ragged these past two weeks, splitting time between taking care of my mother after she was released from the hospital and working extra duties to prepare for Ronan’s upcoming engagement party.

"You should rest." Mom's voice echoes in my head, but I can't. The Keans have been too good to us. I have to make sure everything's perfect for their party.

I stumble slightly, catching myself on the garden wall. My stomach churns. It's been doing that a lot lately. The stress of everything is getting to me.

The doctors say Mom's recovery is going well, but she still needs constant care.

I wake up at dawn to check her vitals and give her medication before rushing to work.

Then it's back home at lunch to make sure she eats, followed by more work, then dinner prep, more meds, and helping her with physical therapy exercises.

Blaise tries to help when he can, but he's busy with increased security duties. I miss him. We haven't had much time together since Mom had to go to the hospital. Just stolen moments and quick kisses between his shifts.

I’m hoping everything will calm down after the party and the exhaustion and unsettled stomach will go away.

A warm smile spreads across my face as familiar footsteps crunch on the gravel path behind me. Even without turning, I know it's Blaise.

"Thought I'd find you here." His arms slip around my waist, and I lean back against his chest. "You're working too hard."

"Just want everything to be perfect for tomorrow." I close my eyes, savoring his warmth, the solid strength of him. "But this is nice. I've missed you."

"I've missed you too." He presses a kiss to my temple. "How's your mom doing?"

"She's rallying, but…" I turn in his arms, drinking in the sight of him. The green eyes I've come to adore, the slight stubble on his jaw. "Thank you for being there at the hospital… for everything since."

His thumb traces my cheekbone. "You don't have to thank me."

"I do, though." I rest my head against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. "Between Mom's recovery and all this party prep, I'm barely keeping it together. But then I see you, even just for a moment, and everything feels manageable again."

He tenses for a moment and then tightens his arms around me. “I’m glad I can help.”

I stretch up on my toes to kiss him, pouring all my gratitude and affection into it. His hands cup my face, and for a perfect moment, the world narrows to just us. But we can’t stay here for long. Soon, he’s off on some errand and I’m back to pruning and planting.

The sharp trill of my phone startles me. I almost let it go to voicemail, but something makes me grab it. The hospital's number flashes on the screen.

"Hello?"

"Ms. Hart? This is Dr. Reynolds. I tried to reach your mother, but she’s not picking up. Since you’re on her contact list for healthcare, I wanted to let you know that a compatible heart just became available. We need to prep your mother for surgery immediately. Can you bring her in now?"

"Yes! Yes, of course." I'm already on my feet. "We'll be there right away."

A heart. They found a heart. After all this waiting, all the close calls, it's finally happening. I feel a little guilty knowing that someone else had to die in order for my mom to get a new heart. I shouldn’t be celebrating that.

Still, hope and happiness surge through me as I head to Mrs. Kean’s office to let her know I need to take Mom to the hospital.

It should be okay to leave early today. The garden looks beautiful, and I’ve already shared the sketches planned for the floral arrangements for Ronan’s party.

I knock softly on the heavy wooden door of Mrs. Kean’s office.

"Come in." Mrs. Kean sits behind her mahogany desk, elegant as always in her tailored suit. She glances up from her papers. "Jenna? What can I do for you?"

"Mrs. Kean, the hospital called. They found a heart for my mother. The surgery is today. I’d like to take the rest of the day off to take her to the hospital.”

"Oh, dear." She sets down her pen, fixing me with a sympathetic look that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "That is wonderful news about your mother. But Jenna, you understand the party is crucial for our family's reputation?"

"Yes, ma'am, I do. But?—”

"And you're aware that your position here, the cottage where you and your mother live… these arrangements depend on reliability?"

My stomach drops. I want to tell her that flowers won’t make or break a business deal or Ronan’s engagement. "Of course, Mrs. Kean. You've been so generous to us. I just… it's her heart surgery."

"Jenna." She stands, walking around her desk to place a manicured hand on my shoulder. "Your mother will have excellent care at the hospital. But we need you here. I’m sure you can arrange other transportation for her. You understand, don't you?"

Tears prick at my eyes. No. I don’t. I want to tell her that a garden and party aren’t more important than my mother’s health, but I can’t risk getting fired. This job keeps Mom and me sheltered and able to scrape by with her healthcare needs. "Yes, Mrs. Kean."

"Good girl." She squeezes my shoulder. "I'm sure your mother would want you to honor your commitments. After all, where would you both be without this position?"

I’m more than stunned. Her attitude is a harsh reminder of my position.

"That will be all," Mrs. Kean says, already returning to her paperwork.

I stumble out of her office, barely making it to the hallway before pressing my hand against the wall for support.

The gardens must be perfect. The party must be flawless.

And my mother… my mother, who's finally getting her chance at survival…

she'll face it alone because I'm trapped here, arranging flowers and maintaining appearances for people who see us as nothing more than convenient servants.

But I can’t wallow in the hurt. I need to figure out how to be in two places at once because I can't risk losing our home, can't let Mom wake up from surgery to find us homeless and jobless.

I exit the house, but instead of going to the garden, I head to the cottage. "Mom…" My voice cracks as I enter. “Mom, they have a heart for you.”

Her eyes light up. “What? So quickly?”

I nod, sniffing away my tears. “You need to go to the hospital now, but I can’t take you. Mrs. Kean won't let me leave. Not without risking my job, our home.”

Mom's voice softens with understanding. "Listen to me. You've carried so much on your shoulders. Too much. I can call for a ride to the hospital. There won’t be anything for you to do when I get there, so you might as well stay here and work. It will be a good distraction.”

"But you shouldn't have to do this alone. I should be there for you.”

"We need a roof over our heads more than you need to hold my hand," Mom says firmly. "The doctors will take care of me."

My chest feels like it's being crushed. "It's not fair.”

"I know, baby. I know, but we'll get through this. We always do."

I hug her. "I love you, Mom. I'm so sorry."

"I love you too. Now dry those tears and go make those gardens shine. I’ll call for a ride?—”

“Maybe Blaise can take you.”

“Oh, I don’t want to bother him.”

But I’m already dialing his number.

"Jenna?" His voice washes over me like a balm.

"The hospital called. They found a heart for Mom and she needs to go now, but Mrs. Kean won't let me leave."

There’s a long pause. “Are you saying you’re not taking your mom to the hospital because of your job?”

I close my eyes because it sounds like I’m choosing my job over my mom. But even she understands that if I lose this job, we have no home and no way to afford her healthcare.

“It’s more complicated?—”

“What’s complicated about choosing to save your mom’s life?” His words come out harsh, making this difficult situation even worse.

"I–I can't lose this job. We can't lose our home.”

"There are other jobs. Other places to live. But there's only one chance at this heart transplant."

I can’t breathe. He’s not wrong, but hearing the judgment, the venom, even, in his voice is ripping me apart.

"Blaise, please. I just need help getting my mom to the hospital.”

"Good people don't force you to choose between your job and your dying mother.”

I’m practically sobbing. "I'm scared. I can’t lose her, but I can’t care for her if we don't have a home or healthcare." I take a breath to pull myself together. “I… I’m sorry I bothered you. I’ll find another way?—”

“I’ll take her.”

I feel relief, but it’s mixed with guilt and even a little resentment toward Blaise for not understanding, which is silly because he’s not wrong.

Mrs. Kean is cruel in insisting that her gardens and floral arrangements are more important than my mother’s life.

But right now, I’m between the proverbial rock and a hard place.

I have no choice but to stay and work and pray that everything turns out.

If my mom passes and I’m not there, I don’t know how I’ll live with myself.