Page 65 of When Ben Loved Jace (He Loved Him #2)

“Samson!” I call after throwing open the front door. “Come see who’s here!”

“Please tell me I didn’t forget my own birthday,” Jace says when noticing the colorful balloons that fill the entryway.

“You didn’t,” I say with a chuckle. “I wanted everything to look festive. This is a special occasion!”

Jace is finally home after three long weeks. I’m over the moon! So is the gray furball who shoots across the living room to rub against our legs.

“Merrrrrow! Merrrrrow!”

Jace laughs and reaches for Samson. “I’ve missed you so much!”

“Easy now!” I warn. “You’re not supposed to pick up anything heavier than ten pounds.”

“He doesn’t weigh that much!” Jace shoots back.

I make a face. “He’s probably lost weight since you were gone. For reasons that should be obvious.”

“Follow me,” Jace coos, leading the cat toward the kitchen. “Daddy is going to give you an extra big pile of treats.”

I follow them to put away the medication the hospital sent us home with.

“Allison made a casserole,” I say, taking it out of the fridge. “Isn’t that nice?”

“Very.” Jace looks more like his old self as he smiles, although the happy expression falters when he glances at the cabinet where we keep the aspirin.

“You made sure to clean up all the pills that I spilled?” he asks. “I worry about Samson playing with one. Aspirin is toxic to cats.”

I stare in shock. “You remember spilling them?”

He blinks in surprise. “Yeah. Did you tell me that detail?”

“I don’t think so!”

We beam at each other. His memory has been coming back in bits and pieces. This is encouraging news. I assure him that the pills were all carefully swept up long ago. Then I push the right buttons to preheat the oven .

“Go relax,” I say, nodding toward the living room. “I’m sure a certain someone is dying to get some lap time.” More than one person, actually, but I’m willing to let the cat go first. “We can eat on the couch.”

“Sounds good.”

I’m buzzing while getting our meal ready. The house wasn’t the same without Jace here, like it was missing a vital piece. Now everything has been made whole again. Including my heart.

Samson is still purring up a storm when I carry two freshly loaded plates into the living room.

“Between me and him,” I say, “it’ll be a miracle if you’re ever allowed to leave again.”

“I can think of worse fates,” Jace says warmly while stroking the cat. “That smells good!”

“It does. Do you want some hot sauce?”

He shakes his head. “Could you pull the curtains though?”

I glance up in confusion, thinking he’s had another memory lapse. “It’s the middle of the day. We’re having lunch, not dinner.”

“I know, it’s just… too bright.”

Light sensitivity. A common side effect. Jace didn’t complain on the way home, but he had been wearing his sunglasses. I hurriedly pull the curtains and switch on a standing lamp.

“Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” Jace says with a wince. “Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” I plop down on the couch next to him.

“Although I do have one complaint. Some people have to learn to speak again after surviving an aneurysm. Couldn’t you have chosen that side effect instead?

I mean, you’re married to a speech language pathologist. Just think how romantic it would have been!

” I grab his cheeks with a hand, squeezing them in rhythm to the words I speak in a lower voice.

“You are so sexy, Ben. Please take off my clothes.”

He shoves my hand away and laughs. “You would have had way too much fun.”

“For real.”

He glances at the curtains. “Instead you got stuck with a vampire.”

“Hey, there’s a lot to be said for biting and sucking. If you feel up to it. ”

“I’m definitely in the mood,” Jace replies. “We better change the subject or Samson is gonna get launched off my lap by a catapult.”

I grin and hand him a plate. “Better build up your strength. I have a lot of needs.”

“Thanks for taking care of mine,” he says. “I know the past few weeks couldn’t have been easy.”

I shake my head. “Loving you isn’t a burden. It’s a gift. Welcome home, Jace.”

— — —

My hands are trembling as I unlock the front door of our house.

Jace hasn’t replied to any of my texts. I’m almost starting to wish he was still in the hospital.

At least there I knew he was safe. My speech pathology office is in the same building.

Now every hour spent at work feels like a risk.

I’d take more time off, if we could afford it, because I don’t like having to leave him here alone.

Even on a good day, when we remain in frequent contact, I often return home wondering if I’ll find him sprawled out unconscious on the floor.

The living room is dark when I enter, the curtains pulled shut. I can see Jace slumped over on the couch in an uncomfortable position. I hold my breath while searching for signs of his. Jace’s chest rises and falls. The tension drains from me.

“Baby?” I whisper. “Time to wake up.”

“Huh?”

Jace goes rigid. Then he winces and works his neck back and forth, like it’s sore. “Must have drifted off,” he murmurs.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“Yeah. Just tired.”

“Do you have a headache?”

“No. I’m fine.”

My gaze darts down to Samson, who is sprawled across his lap. “Some nurse you turned out to be! Next time make sure he lies down first."

The cat stretches and yawns before glancing at me with sudden interest.

“Have you fed him recently?” I ask.

Jace is quiet. Which usually means he isn’t sure. The memory issues haven’t gone away completely.

“I’ll get dinner ready for all of us,” I say. “Sound good? ”

“Yeah,” Jace replies. “Thanks.”

“There’s still a little sunlight left,” I say, pulling one of the curtains aside to let in orange light. Samson hops down to sit in the warm rectangle this creates on the floor. “Is that all right?”

“Sure. Do you need any help?”

“No. I’m making grilled cheese. It won’t take long.”

Jace reaches for a book.

I go into the kitchen and check his pill organizer, pleased when I see that he remembered to take his medicine.

I also find Jace’s phone. The battery is dead.

He’s terrible about keeping it charged these days.

Mystery solved. After I plug it in, I take out bread and butter, relief finally setting in.

Work is done for the day. Everything is fine.

I’m happy. Enough that I begin singing a song from one of Brian’s musicals.

I never got to perform it publicly, since it was written for my costar, but it’s a jaunty little tune about being in love.

“Who’s ever seen a face so fine?—divine!—I’ve gotta make that angel mine. A candy heart that’s sugar sweet—how neat!—its dulcet rhythm always moves my feet. And did I mention the impressive mind?—refined!—schooled in reason but also—"

“For fuck’s sake, would you shut the hell up?”

I spin around in shock. Jace is standing in the doorway, teeth bared, his chest heaving.

“I was trying to take a nap!” he snarls.

“I just woke you up! I thought you were reading!”

“Huh?” Jace’s forehead creases. “Right. I stretched out on the couch and must have—” Guilt drags his features down. “I’m sorry!”

“It’s fine.”

“No it isn’t!” He slumps into a chair at the table. “I’m so tired, Ben. I feel like I’m going crazy. All I do is sleep, and when I’m awake… I yelled at Adrien the other day. Did I tell you that?”

“No,” I say, sitting across from him. “What happened?”

“He said I don’t get out enough, and that I’m turning into Miss Havisham from Great Expectations .”

I snort in amusement. I can’t help it.

Jace manages a chuckle. “I used to like his sense of humor. What’s wrong with me? I don’t feel like the same person anymore.”

I know what he means. The guy with seemingly infinite patience now has a short fuse. He never had a problem with Adrien’s abrasiveness before. I’ve been keeping my sister at arm’s length for that very reason.

“You’ve gotta give yourself time to heal,” I tell him. “We can talk to the doctor about it next week, when you have your follow-up appointment. Maybe there’s something they can do.”

“Oh wonderful, more rehab. Or let me guess, even more stupid pills to choke down?” He takes a deep breath. “There I go again.” His eyes fill with concern. “What if I don’t get better? What if this is who I am from now on? Could you still love me?”

“Hmm.” I feign deep thought. “Let’s see.

Back in high school, I used to date an asshole who would make me duck down when we drove past his girlfriend’s house, and I still managed to love him.

So no, this isn’t a dealbreaker for me. Karen is a bitch.

Adrien is a dick. I’m a little shit. I love them.

I love myself. You’re a human being, Jace.

I already love you and always will. Having an edge isn’t going to scare me away.

If anything, it makes me feel better about all the times I lost my cool around you.

So thanks. This has been great for my self-esteem. ”

He stares at me. Then he laughs. “I don’t deserve you.”

“You probably deserve better, but it’s too late now. You married me.” I reach across the table to take his hands. “We’re fine. You never have to worry about that. But if it makes you feel better, let’s ask the doctor if there’s anything they can do. Okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, bringing my fingers to his lips. “Thanks, Ben.”

“My pleasure,” I assure him. “Really.”

— — —

We report to Jace’s first post-op appointment with a list of questions I wrote down the night before.

I hold on to the sheet of folded notebook paper like a talisman while we go through the planned procedures.

Jace is given another scan. I try to keep his spirits high in the waiting room while specialists determine the results.

Eventually we’re ushered into an exam room where the surgeon pulls up an image of Jace’s brain.

“How are you doing?” she asks.

“Struggling with side effects,” he says. “I’m always tired, have a short temper, light still bothers me—”