Chapter 3 The Woman Who Stayed
During the day, he was the powerful businessman everyone expected him to be. But no public announcement about his recovery. He also made sure that during the time that Tessa was in his room on her lunchbreak no one entered it.
His assistant delivered documents.
Board meetings were held through Zoom.
Investors called constantly.
Lawyers emailed.
Executives waited nervously for his decisions.
The entire business world continued spinning around him.
At night, however, Jamison became someone else entirely.
He became a man waiting for Nurse Tessa.
Every evening around eleven-thirty, after she completed her rounds, she would appear in the doorway carrying a lunch bag and a book.
Like clockwork.
And every evening, Jamison would make sure his laptop was packed away and his eyes were closed.
The first few nights he told himself it was harmless.
He simply wanted companionship.
Someone genuine.
Someone who didn't know his net worth.
Someone who wasn't trying to get something from him.
But as the days passed, he realized it had become much more than that.
He looked forward to hearing her footsteps.
He recognized the sound of her laugh before she even entered the room.
He knew when she was tired.
When she was happy.
When she was worried.
And every night she somehow made the sterile hospital room feel less lonely.
That terrified him.
Because Jamison Edwards didn't get attached.
One Monday night, Tessa arrived carrying a turkey sandwich and a copy of another new book “Trashy” by K. L. Thorne.
"Good evening, Mr. Edwards."
She smiled as she settled into the chair beside his bed.
"I hope you've had a productive day of laying there doing absolutely nothing."
Jamison fought the urge to smile.
Tessa unwrapped her sandwich.
"You know, if you're listening, you have excellent timing."
She took a bite.
"My ex-boyfriend used to complain that I worked too much."
The smile disappeared from Jamison's face.
She never talked about him.
"He said I cared more about strangers than I did him."
Her voice softened.
"I guess maybe he was right about that part."
She stared at her sandwich.
"Then again, he was sleeping with my best friend while saying it, so maybe his opinion doesn't count."
Something cold settled inside Jamison's chest.
He knew betrayal.
Business betrayal.
Family betrayal.
Friends who became enemies.
People who smiled while plotting against him.
But hearing the sadness in her voice made him irrationally angry.
Whoever this man was, he was a fool.
Tessa sighed.
"Anyway, enough about that loser."
She picked up the book.
"Let's see what adventure this new book is going to take us on tonight."
And she began reading.
Jamison closed his eyes and listened.
Not to the story.
To her.
The rise and fall of her voice.
The way she laughed at certain parts.
The way she occasionally paused to shake her head at the characters' bad decisions.
For forty-five minutes, he forgot about meetings, contracts, and business wars.
He simply listened.
The following evening she came in carrying Chinese takeout.
"You are lucky tonight," she told him.
"I got sesame chicken."
Jamison almost burst out laughing.
"You don't look impressed."
Tessa pointed her chopsticks at him.
"That's okay. More for me."
She sat cross-legged in the chair and ate while telling him about a difficult patient who refused to take medication.
Then she read.
Then she prayed.
Every single night ended the same way.
A prayer.
Sometimes short.
Sometimes long.
But always sincere.
Jamison couldn't remember the last time someone had prayed for him.
Not his success.
Not his company.
Not his money.
Him.
By the second week, Tessa had started talking to him like an old friend.
One night she walked in carrying a cup of coffee.
"You know what, Jamison?"
That night the sound of his first name coming off her lips made something strange happen inside him.
"I think you would like going to bookstores."
Jamison remained still.
Tessa smiled.
"Not the chain stores. The independent ones."
She sipped her coffee.
"The ones with old wood floors and books stacked everywhere."
She looked toward the window.
"My grandmother used to take me to one every Saturday."
Her smile turned wistful.
"We'd spend hours there."
She laughed softly.
"Honestly, that's probably why I'm still single. Maybe I’m too boring."
Jamison wanted to object immediately.
Any man with functioning eyesight would find her beautiful inside and out.
Any man with common sense would appreciate her heart.
But he stayed silent.
Because silent was safer.
Then came Thursday.
The night everything changed.
Tessa entered the room with red eyes.
Jamison knew something was wrong immediately.
She wasn't carrying a book.
She wasn't smiling.
She wasn't talking.
She sat in the chair and stared at the floor.
Minutes passed.
Finally she spoke.
"I saw them today."
Jamison's jaw tightened.
Them.
My ex-boyfriend and my ex-best friend.
"They were having lunch together."
Her voice cracked.
"I didn't mean to see them."
She wiped a tear away quickly.
"I was grabbing coffee."
Another tear escaped.
"They looked happy."
Jamison felt anger build inside him.
Not just because she was crying.
But because someone had made her cry.
Tessa laughed bitterly.
"Isn't that crazy?"
She shook her head.
"I know they don't deserve my tears anymore."
Silence filled the room.
Then suddenly the tears came harder.
Tessa covered her face.
"It just hurts. What did I do so bad that made them do me like this?"
Jamison's hands curled into fists beneath the blanket.
Every instinct screamed at him to sit up.
To tell her she was beautiful.
To tell her she wasn't the problem.
To tell her she deserved better.
To pull her into his arms until she stopped crying.
Instead he remained motionless.
Because he was a coward.
Or maybe because he was afraid.
Afraid that once she knew who he was, she would disappear.
Afraid she would become careful.
Polite.
Distant.
Like everyone else.
Tessa lowered her hands.
"My ex told me I wasn't enough."
Her voice barely rose above a whisper.
"He said I was too fat for him."
The words hung in the room.
Jamison's chest tightened painfully.
"He said I wasn't the kind of woman men really wanted."
Tessa stared at the floor.
"For the first time in my life, I almost believed him."
After hearing those words something broke inside Jamison.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
But permanently.
Because he had spent his entire adult life chasing a specific kind of woman.
Models.
Socialites.
Women who looked good beside him.
Women who fit his image.
Yet none of those women had ever sat beside a hospital bed praying for him.
None of them had spent their lunch breaks reading aloud to him.
None of them had made him feel seen.
Tessa was more beautiful than any woman he had ever dated.
Not despite her curves.
She carried them with confidence and grace.
Because her heart made everything else brighter.
Because kindness lived in her.
And Jamison suddenly wanted desperately for her to see herself the way he did.
But he remained silent.
And Tessa eventually wiped her tears.
"Sorry."
She laughed weakly.
"You didn't sign up to be my therapist."
She stood.
"I should finish my rounds."
Before leaving, she did what she always did.
She prayed.
"Lord, please continue healing my friend Jamison."
The sound of his name on her lips made his pulse quicken.
"And please help me heal too. In Jesus name, Amen."
Tears filled Jamison's eyes.
Not because of himself.
But because of her.
She gave so much of herself away to others.
And because nobody seemed to be taking care of her.
After she left, Jamison stared at the ceiling for hours.
Unable to sleep.
Unable to stop thinking about her.
Two days later, Tessa had two scheduled days off.
Jamison suddenly realized how much he depended on seeing her.
The realization annoyed him.
He was a grown man.
A successful man.
A rational man.
Yet he kept checking the clock.
Eleven-thirty came and went.
No Tessa.
Midnight.
No Tessa.
One o'clock.
Nothing.
The room felt emptier.
Colder.
Lonelier.
"This is ridiculous," he muttered.
His voice sounded rusty from disuse.
He opened his laptop.
Worked through emails.
Reviewed contracts.
Answered questions from executives.
Anything to distract himself.
It almost worked.
Then around nine-thirty the next evening, something unexpected happened.
Tessa's friend Lizzie from work called her.
A family emergency.
And asked her to please cover her shift.
And despite being tired, Tessa agreed.
Cause deep down, she wanted to see him in room 323.
Tessa wanted to know that he was okay.
She wanted to hear the machines beeping steadily while reading more chapters to him and refused to examine why she felt that way.
At 11:30 PM she stepped off the elevator carrying her lunch and book.
The familiar routine comforted her.
Until she reached the door.
Tessa pushed it open quietly.
Then froze.
Her heart stopped.
Jamison Edwards was sitting upright in bed.
A laptop rested on his lap.
His blue eyes met hers instantly.
For several seconds neither moved.
Neither spoke.
Time seemed suspended in the air.
The world narrowed until there was only room 323.
Only the two of them.
And the truth.
He had been awake the entire time.
"Hi," Tessa whispered.
Jamison swallowed hard.
"Hi."
His voice was deeper than she expected.
Warm and rich.
Dangerously attractive to her.
Tessa's pulse accelerated.
She suddenly felt embarrassed remembering every conversation.
Every prayer and personal confession.
Had he heard all of it?
"I'm sorry," she said quickly.
"I didn't mean to interrupt you."
Jamison closed the laptop slowly.
"You're not interrupting anything."
His eyes never left hers.
And for reasons neither of them fully understood, neither wanted the moment to end.
But neither knew what to say next.
Not yet.
Not after two weeks of secrets.
Not after two weeks of friendship built between a sleeping man and a lonely nurse.
So Tessa did the only thing she could think of.
She backed toward the door.
"I should go."
Jamison's heart dropped.
But he nodded.
"I understand but you don’t have to."
Tessa offered a small smile.
Then slipped out of the room.
The second the door closed behind her, she spun around and practically sprinted toward the elevator.
Her heart was pounding as her cheeks went hot.
Tessa’s mind was screaming.
He was awake.
He was awake the whole time.
Back in room 323, Jamison stared at the closed door.
Jamison wasn't thinking about his recovery or work anymore.
He was thinking about Nurse Tessa Johnson.
And whether he had just ruined the best thing that had ever happened to him.