Wrong Number: A Forbidden Love Age-Gap Romance

by Iris Trovao

  Just the thought twisted him up inside, and Jane was living it, and from what he knew about her—though precious little that was—he worried for her. Worried that she wouldn’t be kind to herself. That something horrible had happened to her.

  He checked his phone again. Nothing.

  “Almost done,” Patricia declared as she exited the nurse’s station. She stretched her arms above her head until her spine gave a crackling pop, then levelled him with a curious gaze. “You seem distracted tonight, Doctor. You alright?”

  No. No, I'm terrified that my one friend in the world has hurt herself irreparably and I can’t help her because I have no idea who she is.

  But he couldn’t say any of that. “I'm fine,” he assured her, forcing a smile. “Just tired and ready for this night to be over.”

  “Hear that,” she agreed. “If you want to keep busy for the last half hour, we just had a woman transferred in from one of the emergency clinics that needs some paperwork signed. Save Dr. Bowers some trouble when he gets in.”

  He nodded, holding out his hand. “Wouldn’t want to overwhelm him first thing in the morning,” he quipped, but then immediately flushed at the barb.

  Patricia tittered as she grabbed the folder from her desk, holding it out and smirking at him. Her knowing smile made his face even warmer, considering she loved to make fun of Dr. Pretentious and he always tried to remain professional and not join in.

  My inner Jane is snarking out, he thought, with a sigh. Checking on this patient and relaying the information to the insufferable Dr. Bowers might keep his brain occupied for a while.

  He checked his phone again. Nothing.

  He opened the folder and his heart skipped a beat. “Jane Doe?” he rasped.

  “Yeah, she wasn’t coherent at all at the clinic and she’s been out since she got here,” Patricia explained. “They pumped her stomach and she’s stable. I’ve gotten the forms ready for when she wakes up and can tell us who she is.”

  Carson nodded jerkily. So much for keeping his mind off of his Jane.

  When he entered the room, Carson was sure he’d been punched in the gut. The frail-looking woman on the bed looked to be barely over twenty, and it was difficult not to imagine his own almost-adult daughter laying there.

  He checked her IV drip and avoided looking at her by reading the detailed account of events from the urgent care clinic. With an unconscious patient that couldn’t consent to procedures things could get sticky, so they’d recorded every observation to back up the seriousness of what they’d had to do to her.

  He set the folder in the plastic portfolio by the door and approached the bed. He gently took her wisp-thin wrist and pressed, staring at his watch as he calculated her heart rate.

  The clinic hadn’t been able to confirm drug use outside of alcohol poisoning, but it was suspected. Her bloodwork results wouldn’t be ready until the late morning, so he didn’t have that to distract him from studying her pallid face.

  A wave of exhaustion washed over him, and he took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. It didn’t matter how long he did this job…it never dulled, this emotional connection to new patients clearly dealing with hardship.

  “I don’t know what happened to you,” he said quietly. “Whether you did this to yourself on purpose, by accident, or if it was done to you. In any case, I hope you can make peace with whatever it was that led up to this situation.” He paused. “The day shift nurses will take good care of you, and I hope you’re in a position to rest when you get home. We’ve all got difficult things going on. I hope you find that you’re stronger than your difficulties.”

  He turned and headed for the door, and as he grabbed the folder he pulled out his phone.

  Nothing.

  Carson idly swished the tea infuser back and forth in his mug, his cell phone face up on the counter beside it.

  His quiet contemplation was interrupted by the sudden bang of a door slamming, making him startle.

  “How could you do that?” Gina screeched as she practically flew into the kitchen, face crimson and twisted with rage. “How could you go and tell Thad behind my back?!”

  Carson sighed, rubbing his forehead with prickling fingers. He felt like he should be angry, should have exploded back at her, but he was just so tired.

  “That was not my intention,” he said hoarsely.

  “Then what was your intention?!” she shrieked, slapping her palms down hard on the island.

  “Keep your voice down.” He drew his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment and released it with a shake of his head. “I just wanted to see who he was. What kind of man would give up raising his own child.” He watched her jaw clench and unclench. “And as it turns out, he’s not that kind of man. Why didn’t you tell him?”

  Her gaze flicked to the marble countertop of the island, and she jutted out her chin but didn’t say anything.

  Frost gripped Carson’s spine, and his eyes widened. “You were going to tell him it was mine,” he whispered. “What’s happened to you?”

  Gina shrivelled into herself, clasping her arms around her middle, backing away from him.

  “Have you always been this selfish or was I just blinded by how much I loved you?” The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them, and it was as if a dam burst. “That man is in love with you, and you’re carrying his child. All he wants is for you to be a family. Christ, Gina, you didn’t see him. I can’t describe the guilt I feel having been the one to tell him… I can’t imagine what it was like for him to find out that way. But it destroyed him. I can’t take his child from him. I won’t.” His heart threatened to punch right out of his chest, icy fear constricting his gut.

  He couldn’t remember ever having told her no. Ever.

  She winced, unable to meet his gaze.

  “Do you care about him?” Carson asked quietly. “There must be something there, if you were going to all this trouble to keep the baby.”

  Gina finally looked at him, her red-rimmed eyes glassy and pleading. She didn’t have to say it. He could see the struggle there, written all over her face. That she loved Thad, that she wanted this baby, that she wanted a life for them, but didn’t want to deal with the scandal. He’d originally thought that she was more focused on the scandal, that Thad was just some guy that didn’t care, that she could throw away.

  But after meeting him…

  “I thought lying for you would be what was best for everyone,” he said. “But it’s becoming more and more apparent that that was misguided.”

  “You can’t do this to me,” she whispered.

  He scrubbed his hands down his cheeks, brain almost unable to compute her words. “I didn’t do this. You did this.” He shook his head. “I will help you figure out a way to own up to it as gently as possible, but I can’t lie for you. I can’t raise another man’s child, knowing that he wants to be involved. Not to mention that now that he knows, he could fight you for custody. Is that what you want?”

  Gina shook her head. He half expected her to retort that if he hadn’t told Thad about the baby being his that he never would have tried to fight her, but thankfully she didn’t.

  Instead, she whispered, “I’m afraid.”

  He waited for the pain. Waited for the hurt that came with watching his wife agonize over the life problems caused by her infidelity. But it didn’t come.

  “It’ll be okay.” He wasn’t so sure. He was terrified, but not for the same reasons she was. He was terrified to have to tell their daughters that they’d been living in a broken home for so long, that their lives were about to be torn apart.

  To his surprise, she laughed. It was a bitter, exasperated sound, punctuated by a thick sob, but a laugh nonetheless.

  “How will anything be okay?” she asked hoarsely, and he didn’t have an answer for her. They stood there in silence for what felt like an eternity and a moment all at once.

  A noise from the hallway made them both jump, and Carson’s heart rate trip
led.

  Rose stepped into the doorway, eyes wide and shining with tears.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  We’ve all got difficult things going on. I hope you find that you’re stronger than your difficulties.

  Jolie groaned, but it came out more like a wheeze. She wanted to cough, but her throat didn’t even want to constrict to allow for the movement.

  Who was talking to me? She remembered at some point briefly waking up to tell some nurse her name, and vaguely a doctor with a giant nose telling her how close of a call she had.

  But another voice had slipped through the fog at one point, a soft and sad drawl. Comforting like a warm blanket for the heart.

  “Are you awake?”

  Jolie blinked a few times before turning towards the noise.

  Alicia sat next to her, holding out a cup with a straw. “Drink some of this. They said real slow, though.”

  Jolie took the straw between her lips, wetting her mouth little sips at a time.

  “You’re an asshole, you know that?” her friend scolded as she busied herself drinking so she wouldn’t have to respond. It turned out Alicia had no intention of stopping, anyway. “I spend all day sitting by my brother’s hospital bed. You think I wanted to just move to yet another unconscious person I love? Spoiler alert! I fucking didn’t!”

  The straw slurped at the bottom of the little cup, leaving no more water and no more excuse for Jolie to stay silent. She silently prayed her voice wouldn’t work, that she had burned out her vocal chords ingesting whatever the hell it was she’d ingested. She couldn’t even remember.

  “What are you doing here?” she rasped, and immediately winced. Partially because her throat was sore, but also because she didn’t know where the question had come from.

  “I’m your emergency contact, you dolt,” Alicia snapped, crushing the paper cup in her fist. “I was hella confused at first because why the hell is your husband not your emergency contact, but then thankful because it’s not like he can answer the phone.” Her mouth snapped shut, and she closed her eyes, taking in a deep, ragged breath. “You scared the shit out of me.”

  Jolie’s eyes watered, and she resisted the urge to swallow and irritate her throat. She didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry.”

  “I went by your place to grab some clothes for you, because they said you didn’t have any.” Alicia tossed the crumpled cup and straw into the garbage can against the wall. “It’s a fucking dump in there, Jo. You spouted all that crap about not putting my life on hold, while you’ve been sitting in your own filth and overdosing in alleyways.” She jutted out her chin, but it trembled, her angry facade cracking to reveal the utter sadness and fear beneath. “Am I doomed to put everyone I love in a hospital bed?”

  “You didn't do this,” Jolie rasped. “You’re not responsible for this. Any of it.”

  “I sent you two there!” Alicia cried, slapping her hands down on her knees. “Do you know how fucked up it is that he stood you up on Valentine’s Day? That you guys are never together despite you not having a job or anywhere to be? It’s been hell watching my two best friends grow apart and I thought it was helping and now he’s—fuck—” Her voice broke and she choked on a sob. “He’s not going to wake up, no matter how much I pretend he is.”

  Jolie’s heart, the heart she'd thought was shrivelled and gone, constricted painfully. Janos was right. Alicia thought it was her fault. And all the reasons that it wasn’t were also reasons why it wasn't Jolie's fault either. The realization hit her like a battering ram, knocking the breath from her lungs.

  “I thought…” Alicia began thickly, tears overflowing down her cheeks. “I thought that I deserved to torture myself, sitting there staring at him in that bed. My mom is so convinced he’s going to wake up…I thought if I believed in it enough, if I suffered enough, that I could make it right.” She buried her face in her hands, sobs overtaking her.

  Jolie rolled onto her side, reaching out to grasp her friend’s forearm, pulling her weakly towards the bed. Alicia leaned forward into her embrace, body quivering as she fisted the blankets.

  “I’m so sorry,” Jolie murmured, burying her face in Alicia’s hair. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

  They sat like that for a time, until Alicia’s earth-shattering cries dulled into sniffles.

  “You should be,” she said wetly, leaning back to furiously wipe at her face. “You can’t just go and give yourself alcohol poisoning. Overdosing in an alleyway, seriously? We haven’t done molly since high school, Jo, shit. What were you thinking?”

  Jolie winced. “I wasn’t. I do what I do to not think.”

  Alicia reached into her purse and rummaged around, finding a tissue and liberating it. She blew her nose, the wet snarf echoing in the large room.

  “I fucked up,” Jolie said, shaking her head and closing her eyes. “I’m fucked up.”

  “Clearly,” Alicia quipped, but there was no venom in her tone. “We’re all fucked up. Together, though.” She pointed a shaky finger at her friend.

  Jolie did swallow hard this time, her throat protesting as she did so. “Together,” she croaked.

  “Okay.” Alicia blew her nose again and wiped at her cheeks. “I’ll go ask for the discharge paperwork and take you home. We have to stop by the cop shop on the way. They left a voicemail on your machine. Somebody turned in your coat with your wallet and phone.”

  Jolie’s heart leapt at the mention of her phone. She’d spent so much emotional energy getting it back so she wouldn’t lose the doctor, then had shut him out and carelessly left it behind after getting so fucked up she didn't know where she was.

  She’d assumed he would never want to talk to her again, but after today…she couldn’t help but hope.

  Later that day, after Alicia had methodically cleaned her condo while not-so-subtly scouring the place for booze and drugs, Jolie lay snugly wrapped in bed.

  It felt so empty and cold, despite the fact that she hadn’t fallen asleep in this bed with John since long before his accident. I need to move, she thought.

  She squeezed the soft rubber on the side of her phone case, staring at the blank screen. She hadn’t had the guts to turn it on yet, even with Alicia gone. Her friend had stayed while she showered to make sure she wasn’t going to slip or pass out or something. The care and concern hadn’t been wholly unpleasant, but it just felt strange, like a new pair of boots that weren’t yet broken in.

  “Fuck it,” she muttered, and turned on her phone. Messages flooded in.

  Janos: Missed you this morning love, you ok?

  Alicia: Are you still coming?

  Alicia: Just got a call from the hospital wtf omw

  She swiped over to the doctor’s conversation, her heart hammering so hard she thought it would leap out of her throat.

  Dr. Tweedledick: I’m sorry that’s all happened, that sounds really tough to deal with.

  Dr. Tweedledick: It’s natural to feel guilty over things like this, trust me I see it a lot.

  She blinked back tears. He didn’t ghost her. He didn’t even know the whole scope of it, because she’d only told him that her husband was dying because of her, and even still he was so understanding.

  Dr. Tweedledick: You can talk to me about it, if you like. Might be easier to unload on a stranger.

  It would have been, she thought, clenching her jaw. It would have been healthier to do that than to pump myself full of garbage and nearly die.

  Then, from an hour after that, Dr. Tweedledick: Are you alright? Apologies if I’m overstepping…you just seemed very distressed and now that you’re not answering…

  Dr. Tweedledick: I just hope you’re okay.

  Jolie pressed her forehead against the phone, taking in a deep breath before reading the last message, from an hour after that.

  Dr. Tweedledick: You’re probably sleeping by now. If you’re annoyed by my incessant texting, I understand. Just please let me know that you’re home safe.

  Guilt twisted her
gut. He was worried about her. She’d been so terrified she’d turn her phone on to find nothing from him that she’d left him hanging and worried.

  Sorry for leaving you hanging, she sent back. I needed ten million years of sleep. It’s been a rough week.

  She sighed as she cradled her phone against her chest. Understatement of the century.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “I’m home,” Lily declared as she busted through the front door. “Where’s the fire at?”

  “In the kitchen, honey,” Carson called, taking a sip of his long-cold tea and wincing. He set it back down on the island as Lily traipsed in, dropping her purse on the tiled floor with a thunk.

  “Oh.” She stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of Gina sitting at the island, eyes dry but still red and puffy. “You guys are both home. At the same time.”

  Dread coiled in Carson’s gut like a venomous snake, and it dawned on him that his daughters maybe hadn’t been as oblivious as he’d thought. Of course they hadn’t. Of course.

  “Where’s Rose?” Lily’s brow furrowed with concern.

  His heart swelled at that. The siblings could fight all they wanted, but the sisterly bond was strong. He hoped it was strong enough to get through what was to come.

  “She’s in her room.” He swallowed the thickness in his voice, or at least tried to. “I…she overheard a conversation we were having. We tried to get her to come out to talk, but she—”

  Lily put her hands on her hips, and the stern look she shot him was so much like Gina’s it slashed through his heart like a knife. “If you would have talked to us first it would have been a lot easier on her. On both of us, you know.”

  Gina stared at her folded hands in her lap as Lily bored a hole in the side of her head with a glare.