Page 35 of Just One Look
Jackson
Sibella unleashes a torturous wail as another contraction strikes. Tim is by her side, his face the same shade of white as the knuckles Sib is clinging to. Verity is on her other side, smartly keeping her hands away from her sister’s deathly grip, wiping down her forehead instead. I know all of this because Chris is keeping me updated on what’s happening from a safe distance, our backs pinned against the wall of the hospital room.
“All I’m hearing is wailing. When do we get to the beautiful part?”
I mutter to him.
“Think it’s going to get a whole lot worse before it gets better.”
“That’s literally the worst thing you could have said right now.”
Sib screeches.
“Where the fuck is the doctor?”
“He’ll be here once you’re fully dilated, baby,”
Tim replies, and I can just imagine the deadly glare she shoots him when the next words out of his mouth are.
“Just telling you what the nurse said. Sorry, baby.”
Chris chuckles.
“I bet he is.”
Out of habit, I pull my phone out to check the time, but of course, that’s futile. I can’t see anything that detailed. I’m down to just a dim glow of color now.
“When do you think Clancy will get here?”
I ask Chris.
“Verity called him fifteen minutes ago. He should be here any minute.”
“I don’t want him to miss this.”
“You realize you’ll still have to be here even when he arrives.”
“Of course I know that.”
Dammit. My plan was to slip out once he arrived, hoping no one would notice.
“Where is she? How’s she doing?”
I hear Clancy run into the room, panting and winded.
But it’s the dark silhouette that remains by the door that catches my attention. I know it’s Maverick, even though all I can make out is the outline of his body. It looks like he’s wearing a long tan coat.
I wanted a reason to leave the room, and I guess I just got one.
“I’ll be right back,”
I say to Chris.
“Take your time. Just not too much. Contractions are getting closer.”
“Got it.”
I take measured steps across the hospital room, stopping when I’m a few feet away from him.
“What are you doing here?”
“Clancy was at my place when Verity called.”
His voice settles over me like a warm blanket. I used to hate the effect he had on me; now, I long for it.
“Can we—can we talk outside for a second?”
Clancy’s heavy footsteps close in behind me.
“Go, Jackson.”
He clasps my shoulder and gives me a gentle nudge forward.
“There are chairs outside to the right. I’ll yell out when the time comes. If you can hear me over Sibella, that is.”
“Sure,”
I say, facing Maverick.
“Let’s talk.”
He steps out of the room, and I follow his outline to a row of brown chairs.
“Can I help you with anything?”
“I’m fine,”
I retort, realizing I should probably dial my tone down a bit. I sound angry when, for a change, I’m not. I’m sad. Deeply, deeply sad. “Sorry,”
I mumble as I lower myself onto the chair.
He takes a seat, leaving a chair empty between us.
“Exciting day. You’re going to be an uncle.”
“Yeah.”
We sit in silence for a while, the sounds of the hospital echoing around us. Footsteps of people hurrying by. The clang of someone rolling a metal cart down the corridor. Sibella’s occasional screams.
I wish I could see Maverick’s face properly. I once heard that something like eighty percent of communication is nonverbal, but I never realized how true that was until my vision started going. What sort of mood is he in? Is he just as uncomfortable as I am? Does he hate me as much as I hate myself for the way I’ve treated him?
He was vulnerable and strong, sharing that he had trust issues. That honesty was the single most important thing to him.
And I broke that trust.
The reasons I had for not telling him don’t seem worth the pain I caused. I’ve messed everything up, and I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive myself for that. I can’t go back and undo what I did, but I can make sure I never hurt him again. And there’s only one way to guarantee that.
“Are you coming back to the sanctuary?”
he asks, his voice unnaturally stiff.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Why do you think?”
“We can make it work. I’ve been looking into modifications?—”
“Stop. Please. The sanctuary needs to be making money, not spending it on me.”
“That’s not your decision to make.”
“Maybe not. But I’m telling you, I’m not going back.”
He exhales sharply through his nostrils.
“How much longer are you going to keep doing this for?”
“Doing what?”
“Pushing me away?”
“That’s not what’s happening.”
“Isn’t it? Because it sure as hell feels like it is to me.”
“I don’t—I don’t want anyone making any more changes to accommodate me, okay? I need to deal with what I’m going through. Alone.”
“You’re not alone. You have your family.”
“Exactly. I don’t need anyone else.”
I want to take the words back the second they spill out of my mouth. But I can’t. It’s too late. I’ve nailed the final nail in the coffin of whatever was left of our relationship.
“Jackson, get in here,”
Clancy calls out from the doorway to the room.
“We have crowning!”
I get up and step into the room without another word.