Chapter 39
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Grace
That was it. I’d had enough. I went to my room, grabbed my duffle bag from the closet, and threw some clothes in it.
I wasn’t staying here another night, and I didn’t care if I went to jail.
Actually, jail would be a hell of a lot better than living here.
I climbed into my car and drove to the hospital.
What I wouldn’t give to be able to go back to my apartment.
When I arrived, I went into the on-call room and lay on the bed.
My stomach was growling because I hadn’t eaten since lunch, so I got up, grabbed some money from my wallet, and went to the vending machine.
“Dr. Harper, I thought you went home,” Dr. Lasher spoke.
“You mean Hell?” I shot her a look. “I’ll be in the on-call room if you need me.”
I put some money into the machine and pushed the button for a turkey sandwich. After I ate half of it, I lay down and closed my eyes.
“Dr. Harper,” Dr. Lasher spoke as she opened the door. “Justin, your patient that’s scheduled for surgery tomorrow is vomiting and has a fever of 102.6.”
“Seriously?” I sighed.
I got up and took the elevator up to Justin’s room.
“Hey, Justin. How are you feeling?” I asked as I looked over his chart.
“Not good, Dr. Harper.”
“I want you to repeat all the lab work and do a set of blood cultures. I suspect it’s a virus, but it’s better to be safe,” I spoke to Dr. Lasher. “Don’t worry, Justin, we’ll give you something for the vomiting. Dr. Lasher, can I see you in the hall?”
She followed me out of the room, and we walked over to the nurses’ station.
“I need you to call Dr. Finn and tell him about Justin’s condition. We’re going to have to postpone the surgery.”
“Sure, Dr. Harper.”
“You know where to find me. And by the way, he’s in a mood, so good luck. Do not under any circumstances tell him that I’m here. Understand me?”
“Yes, Dr. Harper. Is everything okay?”
“It’s Dr. Finn. Do you think everything is okay?” I arched my brow at her.
Jamieson
“Damn it. I’ll check on him in the morning. If there are any changes overnight, let me know,” I spoke.
I ended the call and sighed. I finished off the last of my drink and walked to Grace’s bedroom.
I knocked on the door lightly, and she didn’t answer, so I placed my hand on the handle and opened the door, only to find her not there.
I went downstairs and checked the living room first, then the kitchen.
It appeared she wasn’t home. Where the hell did she go?
I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed her. No answer. I sent her a text message.
“I don’t care where the hell you are, but you need to call me. Justin is sick, and we’re going to have to postpone his surgery.”
I waited for a response that never came. I fell asleep on the couch and woke up at one a.m. I grabbed my phone from the coffee table, and there was still no message from Grace. On my way to bed, I opened the door to her room, and she still wasn’t home.
“Damn you, Grace,” I spoke to myself.
Walking back downstairs, I grabbed my keys, climbed into my car, and drove to the hospital.
“Dr. Finn, what are you doing here?” Dr. Lasher asked.
“Where is she?”
“Who?”
“You know who. Dr. Harper. And don’t lie to me,” I spoke in a stern voice.
“She’s in the on-call room.”
I opened the door, and she wasn’t in there. When I turned around, I saw her walking down the hallway.
“Jamieson, what are you doing here?” she asked with irritation.
“Looking for you. What are you doing here?”
She walked into the room, and I followed behind, taking note of her duffel bag that was sitting on the desk.
“Why the hell did you pack a bag? Are you planning on living in the hospital?”
“You know what? I’m tired. Go home,” she spoke. “You made it very clear you wanted to be alone, so that’s what I’m giving you.”
“I didn’t mean for you to leave. Damn it, Grace. Stop playing the martyr.”
“Me?” she spoke loudly as she pointed to herself.
“You’re the one who’s playing the martyr, Jamieson.
Do you know what it is like living with you?
You’re a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. One minute, you’re all sweet and kind and act as if you care, and the next, you’re the fucking devil.
You’re rude, arrogant, and mean. So, get the hell out of here and leave me alone! ” she shouted.
I stood there and stared into her eyes, which were filled with anger. I’d seen her angry before, but never like this. It hurt me to think I made her like that. I couldn’t do this anymore. I couldn’t fight, and I knew I had to put a stop to it.
“Grace—” I calmly spoke.
“Don’t.” She pointed at me.
I walked over to where she stood and wrapped my arms around her. She tried to fight me, but I wouldn’t let her out of my tight grip.
“I’m sorry,” I spoke.
“You’re always sorry, Jamieson.”
“I’m an asshole. I admit it. Hate me. I deserve it.
But I’m hoping you’ll allow me to make things right.
I care about you. More so than I’ve ever cared about anyone.
I’m ready to talk about my past and family for the first time in my life.
I want to tell you everything. You’re my wife for the next six months, and you have the right to know. ”
She broke out of my loosened grip and took hold of my hand as we sat down on the bed. She tightened her grip as I started telling her my story.