Chapter 22
The hospital room was quiet except for the soft beep of the heart monitor and the occasional murmur of voices in the hallway outside. Everything was too quiet. It was grueling to sit here and wait for Brock to wake up.
Jules sat hunched in the chair beside his bed, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. It struck her how strange and surreal all of this was. She’d spent years working in hospitals before transferring to the surgical center. This room—this experience—should be familiar, clinical, routine. But nothing about this was normal.
Everything she’d learned, every bit of her training had all flown out of her brain the minute she stepped into this room and saw Brock lying in that bed.
The effects of the Midazolam had mostly worn off, but she was still tired. She exhaled slowly, watching Brock’s face for any sign of movement.
Finally, he stirred.
She shot to her feet, instantly at his side. A second later, he groaned and turned his head toward her.
“Hey,” he rasped.
Jules leaned over him, gently brushing his hair from his forehead. Tears rushed to her eyes. “I’m here. You’re okay.” She needed to say it out loud so she could make herself believe it.
He blinked several times as if trying to focus. “What … what happened?”
Brock having a lapse of memory was to be expected. Propofol was known as the amnesia drug and was commonly used for procedures because patients typically didn’t remember the procedure or anything that was said during it.
Her throat tightened. “You were injected with a drug called propofol.” Her voice cracked. “You saved my life. Asher tried to kill me, and you rushed in and stopped him at the last second. He injected you instead of me.”
His face tensed as he processed her words. Then, a flash of recognition pinged through his dark eyes. “That’s right. I shot him.”
“He’s dead,” she said flatly, grateful that he could no longer hurt her again. First, Steve Randall and then Asher Winslow. Jules never could’ve imagined that she had two people out to get her at the same time.
It was a crazy, sadistic world.
“The needle in my arm,” he said slowly. “I remember feeling like I was floating.”
“Yep, that’s an effect of the drug. Luke rushed in on your heels. He called the paramedics and kept you breathing until they got there. You’re going to be okay.”
A sob rose in her throat. “Brock, I’m so sorry I didn’t listen to you about Asher. He was the one who hit me. He killed Alyssa.”
“I know,” Brock said solemnly.
She flinched. “You do?”
“Luke and I were on our way to the airport to drop off the SUV. I just couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.” He gave her a meaningful look. “I’ve learned to listen to that gut instinct over the years. It has saved me on many occasions.”
“And me.” Tears brimmed in her eyes as she smiled at him.
“I kept thinking there was some loose end that needed to be tied up. I tried calling Claire again. This time, she answered. She told me that Asher had fallen in love with one of the nurses at his clinic. That’s why he broke off his engagement. He and the nurse were going to have a baby together.” He met her eyes. “I knew that I had to get to you. I tried calling to warn you.”
She thought back. “I remember getting a call, but Asher silenced it.”
“Luke and I turned around and rushed back as fast as we could.” His voice grew choked. “I barely made it to you in time.”
“But you did make it to me,” she insisted, her voice fierce. “You did.”
He relaxed back against his pillow.
She wiped away the tears trailing down her cheeks. There was more that needed to be said. “Brock, I just want you to know that I love you.”
A slow smile spread across his face. “I love you too.” A lopsided grin tugged at his mouth. “You’ve told me that twice in one day. It’s a record.”
A chortle rose in her throat. “I can see your memory is coming back just fine.”
“Yep. Sure is.” He gave her a searching look. “You know this isn’t going to work.”
Her heart stilled. “What do you mean?” Was he having second thoughts about the two of them? Please, no. She couldn’t handle that.
His expression turned serious. “Me living in Coronado Island. You living here. Us being apart. It’s not going to work.”
A heady relief swelled over her. “I know,” she admitted. “But I also know you need to be near Trevor.”
“I do. Part of my heart is in one place, and the other part is somewhere else.”
A smile tugged at her lips. “Maybe we can fix that.”
His brow lifted. “What do you mean?”
She shrugged. “Well, I’ve always wondered what it would be like to live on the beach.”
His face lit with cautious hope. “Are you saying what I think you are?”
“I am,” she said.
A joyous smile overtook his rugged face. “That’s fantastic. What changed your mind?”
She took a breath, trying to keep the emotion at bay. “You remember when you said that after my car accident, everything just snapped into place for you?”
“Yeah,” he said softly, giving her a tender look.
“Well, that’s exactly what happened to me.” More tears rushed to her eyes. “When Luke was trying to keep you breathing, and we were waiting for the paramedics … even in my groggy state, everything became clear. I realized that as hard as it’ll be for me to leave Fort Worth and my parents, there’s one thing I can’t live without—you.”
They held each other’s gaze as a deep understanding flowed between them. They were in this together for the long haul.
“Okay,” he finally said. “If that’s the way you feel about it, then there’s only one alternative.”
“Oh yeah?” she teased. “What’s that?”
“We make it official.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Official?”
He took hold of her hand, his voice regaining its strength. “Jules Sterling, will you marry me?”
“Yes,” she blurted. “A thousand times yes.”
He pulled her down for a long, breathless kiss.
A giggle tickled her throat. “Wait until I tell my dad—he’s going to be ecstatic that he’s two for two.” She tipped her head, her voice going musing. “I might even insist that you keep the house.”
He groaned. “I told you—and Clayton. I don’t want that stupid house. I only want you.”
She laughed. “Yeah, I know. But I might as well make Dad work for it a little. You know, so he’ll think he got the better end of the bargain.”
His eyebrows shot up. “You’d do that to your poor old dad?”
“Mm hm,” she murmured. “He gave Tippin a guitar. I think a house is only fair. We’ll keep my bungalow and sell the house so we can put the money towards a nice place on the beach.”
“My little cottage not good enough for you, princess?” Brock asked with a sly grin.
She pursed her lips. “It looked rather small from what I could tell when we did our video calls.”
“Oh, really?” Laughter warmed his eyes to gold.
“But I suppose I’ll have to see it in person to decide.”
“Maybe we should take it one step at a time,” he chuckled.
“One step at a time,” she echoed.
“As long as we have each other, I’m up for the journey.”
“Me too,” she smiled.
He gave her a look that said more than a novel’s worth of words could convey. And in that look, she caught a glimpse of eternity.
Not what she’d planned.
But something so much better!