Healing Touch

by Brenda Rothert

  “How long have you two been together?”

  “Almost three months. We met at work. I do electrical maintenance at Tulane Medical, and she’s a doctor there.”

  Gary nodded. “And how have things been between you during that time?”

  “Overall, it’s been great. We kind of had a fight when I told her I’m not sure I want kids, but we moved on from that. But then recently we went to this fundraiser, where her dickhead ex-husband outbid me on some cookies I wanted to buy her.”

  “And that created tension between you and Joss?”

  I nodded and looked over at Gary’s lilac-colored office wall. “You could say that, yeah.”

  “Tell me more about that.”

  “Well, her ex is a doctor, too. He’s loaded, and he wants her back.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  I narrowed my eyes at Gary in a glare. “Yeah, I’m sure. He’s made it obvious.”

  “And does Joss want to be with him, too?”

  I replayed my argument with Joss a couple of days ago. When she’d lied to me about the flowers and told me she didn’t want Dean. “She says she doesn’t.”

  “And do you believe her?” Gary prompted.

  “I want to, but . . .” I shook my head. “I went to work things out with her the other night, and there were flowers on the desk. I asked about them, and she told me they were from her friend. But then her friend walked by, and I found out they were actually for Joss and her ex had sent them. She lied to me.”

  “And did you ask her about that?”

  I nodded. “She said she lied because she knew I’d blow up over it and she doesn’t want him. She wants me.”

  “Do you believe her?”

  “I do, but that’s not the point. It doesn’t make lying to me okay. My ex-fiancée lied to me for more than a year about banging some other guy.” My shoulders tensed once again.

  “Was Joss right? Would you have blown up about it?”

  “Hell yeah, I would have,” I said, louder than necessary. “That douchebag’s got no right sending flowers to my girlfriend.”

  “So what happened after you fought about it?”

  “Nothing, I guess. I left, and we haven’t spoken since.”

  A few seconds of silence passed before Gary said, “You said you were here because you think you’re fucking up the relationship. But do you place some of the blame on Joss for lying?”

  “I guess. I mean . . . yeah.” I shifted on the couch, uncomfortable in the tiny office. “But if I’m being completely honest, I think the underlying problem in our relationship is . . . me.”

  Gary furrowed his brow. “How so?”

  “I don’t sleep well. I’m angry sometimes for no reason. I have trust issues. And Joss . . .” I shook my head. “If anyone has a right to have trust issues, it’s her. Her dickhead ex cheated on her with a nurse from the hospital, and she was the last to know. If I were her . . . I’d be so cynical.”

  “But she isn’t?”

  “No. She’s . . . Joss is like a ray of sunshine. Not that she’s cheery all the time, because”—my lips turned up in a smile—“she’s got a wicked sense of humor and she has her moods, like we all do. But when she looks at me, it’s like stepping into the sunlight. Her smile lights me up, if that makes any sense.”

  “You love her.” Gary’s words are a statement, not a question.

  “Yeah, I do. I love her.”

  “And it sounds like you see that your issues with sleeping and anger have nothing to do with her.”

  I nod. “They have nothing to do with her, no.”

  “What about your issues trusting? Have you been let down by others in the past? You mentioned your ex-fiancée, but have there also been others?”

  My laugh was humorless. “Yeah, you could say that. My mom died when I was a kid, and my dad was a deadbeat. I couldn’t wait to get the hell away from him.”

  “Do you think some of the anger stems from those things?”

  I shrugged. “Yeah.”

  “Have you talked to Joss about your parents?”

  “Not much. She’s got normal parents and a normal life. I don’t want to seem like a fuckup.”

  Gary leaned forward in his chair, his brows low. “Your mom dying and your dad being a deadbeat do not make you a fuckup, Carson.”

  I looked down, my shoulders tensing and my throat tightening. “You know what I mean. I don’t want to sound . . . dysfunctional. Even though I am. She’s a doctor, and I’m a pissed-off veteran. The cards are already stacked against us.”

  “Are they really, though? Or is that just what you tell yourself so that it won’t hurt so much if it doesn’t work out?”

  Slowly, I raised my eyes to his. The fucker was a lot more insightful than I’d expected him to be.

  “Carson, how would you feel if the relationship between you and Joss ended?”

  My chest caved in at just the thought. “I’d be devastated. I never thought anyone like Joss would love me, but she does . . . or did, and . . .”

  “Do you think you deserve her love?”

  I huffed out a breath of frustration. “What does that even mean?”

  “You know what it means.”

  “No, I don’t feel like I deserve it.” I couldn’t even look at Gary as I said the words, because my throat was tight with emotion.

  “I think you need to tell her that. Communication in a relationship only works if you’re communicating the truth.”

  I nodded, turning from the purple wall to Gary. “So you’re telling me to lay it all out there? All at once?”

  “All of it. Write her a letter if you don’t feel like you can say it.”

  I searched the room for a clock. “Has it been an hour yet?”

  Gary laughed and reached for the clipboard on the table beside him. “We can wrap up here if you’d like.”

  “Yeah, I would. I mean, not that you didn’t do a good job or anything, I just . . .”

  “You have a lot to process. I understand.”

  “So”—I stood up, and he followed—“do I need to come back?”

  “I’d like to continue seeing you. Weekly, if that’s okay.”

  “Weekly? So I’m super fucked up, then?”

  Gary smiled. “No. But I’d like us to talk more about your anger and the sleeping problems you’re having. And Joss, too. Maybe we can get to the bottom of some of these things.”

  “Yeah. That would be good.”

  Gary passed me a folder. “This has my card in it. My cell number is on there. If you’re having a hard time, call me. Anytime.”

  “What, you mean like . . . ? I’m not planning on killing myself.”

  “I’m not saying you are. I just want you to know I’m here if you need me. I don’t just do this job for money.”

  I nodded. “Okay, thanks.”

  “Hope to see you again next week.” He reached out a hand, and I shook it.

  “Yeah, I’ll be here.”

  I left his office and headed for the front desk of the clinic, the sound of hammers sounding in the hallway as construction workers put up framing somewhere in the building.

  Talking wasn’t my thing, especially when it was about feelings. But I’d realized I needed help fixing things with Joss. And my session with Gary hadn’t been as shitty as I’d figured it would be. After I made my copay and walked out of the clinic, I realized I actually felt a little lighter.

  There was only one person I wanted to tell I’d been here. And it was just one of many things I needed to tell her.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Joss

  The hallways on the OB floor were like busy highways: people moved steadily in two directions, occasionally passing. The congestion was unusual—we’d all agreed that there’d apparently been some sort of storm exactly nine months ago that had led to an unusual number of pregnancies.

  I was working a day shift after a night shift for the second day in a row. With the influx of patients, I’d
had no choice but to stay over. I needed a shower, and I was starving. But there was barely even time to pee, let alone eat.

  A nurse called out to me from the other side of the hallway. “Dr. Drake, 3302 is asking for you. She wants pain meds.”

  I scooted out of the flow of traffic on my side of the hallway and joined the other side, making my way back toward the room I’d just been in ten minutes ago.

  My patient was sobbing when I walked into the room. The man holding her as she leaned over the side of the bed to cry on his chest gave me a desperate look.

  “Hey, Gina,” I said, walking over to the bed. “How are you?”

  She looked up, her cheeks wet with tears. “I’m sorry. I know I said no drugs, but this is so much worse than I expected.”

  “It’s okay.” I smiled at her from the end of the bed. “Don’t apologize for not wanting to be in excruciating pain.”

  “But will the drugs hurt the baby?”

  “No. What I’m going to give you is completely safe.”

  Gina moaned as a contraction started hitting. “Oh no. No, no, no.”

  “It’s okay, babe,” the man with her said. “Squeeze my hand.”

  She glared at him and moaned louder.

  “I’ll go get something for you,” I said.

  As I left the room, I heard the man make a moaning sound himself as Gina apparently squeezed his hand, and I couldn’t help smiling. I so wanted that to be me one day, finding my way through the pain of childbirth with a man I adored at my side.

  I couldn’t imagine that being anyone but Carson. I missed him more with each passing day, and I regretted my lie about the flowers more each time I remembered it.

  Why had I done that? It was so unlike me. I was honest to a fault. But just the thought of increased tension with Carson had made me tell a lie that felt harmless.

  The hurt I’d seen in his eyes still tore at me. I was supposed to be the one person who never betrayed him. I knew how I’d feel if he lied to me, even about something small.

  I unlocked the small room where medicine was stored and stepped in, closing the door behind me. My phone buzzed in my pocket with a text, and I grabbed it as I scanned the shelves.

  Carson: Are you okay? I waited in the parking lot, but you never came out this morning.

  My heart raced from the moment I saw his name. He’d waited for me. He was worried about me. He still cared. I wrote back.

  Me: I had to work overtime. We’re swamped. I miss you, and I’m so sorry.

  I looked at the screen until his next text appeared, my pulse pounding with anxious hope. Had he been waiting for me to officially end things or to try to work things out?

  Carson: I’m sorry, too. Can we get together soon to talk?

  Me: Talk about working things out?

  Carson: Yeah. If I made you think I wanted anything but that, I’m sorry.

  Tears flooded my eyes, and I exhaled with relief.

  Me: I can come over when I get out of here. Should be around 4.

  Carson: Don’t you need to sleep? You worked last night, too.

  Me: I want to see you. I’m off tonight. I can sleep then.

  Carson: I love you, Joss. No argument will change that.

  The tears slid from the corners of my eyes down my cheeks, and I smiled.

  Me: I love you, too. I’m so glad you texted me. I have to go.

  Carson: See you soon. Love you.

  I slid my phone back into my coat pocket and wiped my cheeks, taking a deep breath. We were going to be okay. Even though we still needed to talk things out, we were going to be okay.

  Grabbing the medicine I needed and walking from the room, I felt a weight lifted from my shoulders.

  By 2:00 p.m., things had finally slowed down, and I was able to take a break and go to the cafeteria and eat. The second I walked in, my stomach growled in response to the savory scent of grilled chicken.

  I was so hungry I wanted to order one of everything, but I settled for a grilled chicken burrito, iced tea, and a brownie. I’d just sat down and unrolled my silverware from its napkin wrapping when a figure approached the other side of my table.

  When I looked up from my seat, I met Amanda’s narrowed eyes. She was standing across from me, her crossed arms resting on her very pregnant belly.

  “I bet you’re loving this,” she said in a bitter tone.

  I could either put a bite of food in my mouth or respond. I was really hungry, so the burrito won. I lowered my brows in confusion as I chewed, then wiped my mouth off.

  “Don’t play dumb with me.” She narrowed her eyes farther. “The whole hospital knows you and Dean are back together. He’s sending you flowers and cookies while I work extra shifts to buy nursery furniture and mow my own grass while I’m seven months pregnant.”

  The emotion in her voice made my heart sink. There was anger, sure, but more than that—hurt. Some people would say she deserved what she’d gotten. I wasn’t one of them. No woman deserved this.

  “Amanda, I swear to you, we are not back together. Not in any way. I’m with Carson.”

  She shook her head. “Bullshit. Why’s Dean sending you flowers, then?”

  I didn’t want to hurt her further, but I knew honesty was my only option from here forward. “He has told me he’s interested in getting back together with me, but I’m not.”

  “You’re loving this, though, aren’t you? Banging the hot garbage man while Dean grovels to get you back, and meanwhile I have nothing?”

  I was letting the “garbage man” comment pass. “You don’t have nothing, Amanda. You have friends who love you and your baby.”

  “That’s right. I’m the one having his baby, not you. He may want you now because I’m huge and exhausted, but once he sees our baby, he’ll be right back with me.”

  I set my fork down and gave her an incredulous look. “How can you still want him? Why?”

  “Because I love him.” Her lower lip trembled, and I felt incredibly sorry for her.

  “Dean doesn’t deserve you, Amanda.”

  She leaned closer to my table. “I’m sure you want me to think that so you can have him. Have you dumped the garbage man already?”

  “First of all, Carson is not a garbage man.”

  “Whatever. The maintenance guys are all the same to me.”

  Her disdainful tone eroded my patience, and I returned her glare.

  “Look, I’m at the end of a double, and I haven’t eaten in a really long time. I’m not with Dean, at all, and I never will be again. He’s an asshole, and it’s better you figure that out now than later. I’m with Carson. I just want to eat in peace right now. Is there anything else?”

  “Everyone’s watching. Just remember that. It’s not a game, Joss.” Her voice wavered with emotion. “I’m pregnant with his child.”

  How ironic that Amanda would be warning me against running around with Dean, when she’d done that exact thing herself.

  “People can watch all they want,” I said, picking my fork back up. “I wouldn’t touch Dean if he was the last man on earth.”

  She held my gaze for a few seconds before turning and stomping off. I felt a stab of remorse as I watched her go. She had no business mowing and working extra shifts just a few weeks from her due date. From the looks of her, she had about six weeks to go in her pregnancy. And like many women do in their first pregnancy, she was gaining more weight as she went. Probably from the stress she was under.

  She shouldn’t be doing it alone. If Dean wasn’t man enough to take care of her right now, someone should. Hell, I’d mow her grass.

  I needed to talk to Carson about all this. His decision to finally make up with me couldn’t have come at a better time. I should have been tired, but the food was giving me a boost, as was the thought of Carson’s arms around me again.

  Someday, I hoped Amanda would figure out what I already had—that there were better men out there than Dean. The tables had turned, but I didn’t relish it one bit.

&
nbsp; Chapter Nineteen

  Carson

  I opened my front door and met Joss’s warm brown eyes, my blood pumping hard at the sight of her. She wore sea-green scrubs, and her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. The dark circles beneath her eyes spoke of her long night and day at the hospital.

  “Hey,” she said softly, not even getting the word all the way out before I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her against me.

  “I’ve missed you so much,” I said, resting my cheek against her soft hair.

  “Me too.” She held on to me tightly. “I’m sorry I lied to you, Carson.”

  “I’m sorry I lost my shit.”

  We stood in the open doorway like that for a couple of minutes because I couldn’t bring myself to let her go. Then she lifted her cheek from my chest and looked up at me.

  Having Joss in my arms again made my emotions run wild. I wanted to hold her and whisper tender words in her ear, but I also wanted to take her to bed and show her how crazy she made me for her. No man would ever worship her in bed the way I did, because no man would ever love her as fiercely.

  Dean had more money than me. He’d been married to Joss, and they had a long history. But he would never want her, and he’d never love her, as hard as I had since our first night together.

  Joss wasn’t just a woman to me. She was the only woman. She made me want to fight back against all my demons and disappointments. She made me want to believe.

  My physical desire won out. I bent slightly to pick her up, kicking the front door closed as I turned to carry her to my bedroom.

  She wrapped her legs around my waist and buried her face in my neck. The brush of her soft lips on my skin made me groan.

  I set her down on the bed, grabbing the back of my shirt to pull it off over my head as I climbed over her. For a few seconds, we were a tangle of limbs, our breathing the only sound in the room as we both tore off our clothes.

  My hunger for her drove me to thrust inside her without warning. It was more than physical. I wasn’t good with words, but this, I was good at. I could show Joss how much I loved her.

  I covered her mouth with mine, swallowing up her moans of pleasure as I plowed into her. The scrape of her nails down my back fueled my fire for her, and I hooked an arm behind her knee and hiked her leg up to get deeper.