Chapter 4
Chapter Four
T he imposing structure of the hospital towered above Jules. Most people in the town looked at the building's facade, a mix of cold glass and concrete, as a haven. It made her feel small, a familiar sensation that stirred memories of childhood visits when she was sick and vulnerable. Beads of sweat formed on her brow, not from the summer heat but from the echoes of those past anxieties.
She remembered standing here as a young girl, clutching her mother’s hand, her heart pounding with fear of needles and tests. The revolving doors had always seemed like a portal to a world where she had no control, where her body’s betrayals were laid bare.
Today was different. She wasn’t a frightened child anymore. Nor was she here because she was sick.
Jules took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. The nerves were still there, but she pushed them aside. She was strong now, resilient. She had faced the challenges of her diabetes head-on, and she would tackle this new problem with the same energy. Fixing her bakery was a task she would handle on her own terms, with Amari’s help. This was her plan, her solution, and she would see it through.
As she approached the entrance, she wiped the sweat from her brow and walked inside. This place wasn't so bad. It was here she’d learned how to care for herself with Dr. Edwards' help. Dr. Edwards had guided her through the ups and downs of managing her blood sugar and diabetes. The old man who looked more like a trim Santa than anything was set to retire soon, a thought that filled her with both gratitude and sadness.
Amari had arrived two years ago as Dr. Edwards’ replacement, though the old doctor hadn’t yet fully stepped away. Jules approached the receptionist, her nerves fluttering like a thousand butterflies in her stomach. She wasn’t here for another check-up or a routine appointment today. She was here to propose a marriage of convenience to Amari, a plan that felt both desperate and necessary.
"Hi, I'm here for Dr. Mensah."
"Do you have an appointment?"
The woman didn't even bother looking up. This wasn't the regular receptionist. They changed every few months nowadays. Jules missed the kind face of Nurse Bidelow.
"No. I'm his girlfriend."
The receptionist looked her up and down as though she didn't believe Jules. "I'll see if he's available."
Instead of arguing, Jules found a seat in the waiting room, her mind racing. She looked around, taking in the pale blue walls, the soft murmur of conversations, and the occasional beeping of medical equipment. Time stretched interminably, the seconds ticking by with excruciating slowness.
Finally, Amari appeared, his white coat pristine and his expression one of mild annoyance. He kissed her on the cheek, a quick, impersonal gesture. "Hey, Jules," he said, his tone brisk. "I don't have a lot of time. Let's walk and talk."
The receptionist caught the brisk way he interacted with her. A cool smirk touched the corner of her painted lips. Jules wanted to slide her hand around Amari's waist to exude ownership, but she was a step behind his long strides.
They headed away from reception through the hospital corridors. Amari glanced at his clipboard as they moved. The scent of disinfectant was stronger here, mingling with the occasional whiff of cafeteria food. Jules tried to gather her thoughts, feeling the weight of her request pressing down on her.
"Amari, I wanted to talk to you about the bakery," she began. "The costs are so much higher than I expected. I don't know how I'm going to manage it. But?—"
Amari cut her off, barely glancing at her. "It's a shame about the bakery, Jules, but maybe it's time to move on. You could sell your recipes to major stores. I was talking to Mark Anderson at a fundraiser last month. You know he buys local recipes and sells them to grocery stores and restaurant chains. He's interested in your baked goods. Selling to him would be working smarter, not harder."
Jules knew Mark Anderson. He'd purchased Jed Winchester's barbecue sauce, and it was now in grocery stores. But the recipe was loaded with preservatives, and not nearly the same. Not that she would ever admit that the sauce was delicious. At least not when her sister Jamie was around.
"I'm not interested in selling my recipes. The bakery is my dream. It's how I've always envisioned I'd serve the community, to create a space where people can come together and indulge in healthy treats."
Amari finally lifted his gaze, looking at her. "I thought your dream was to marry me. To be my wife and make a home together."
This was it. This was her opening to tell him. Jules swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest. She had come here to ask him to marry her for her inheritance, but now she hesitated. The passion she felt for her bakery collided with the practicality of Amari's suggestion, leaving her torn.
Before she could respond, she saw Fish walk into the hospital, clutching his hand, blood seeping through a makeshift bandage. Her heart leapt into her throat, and she instinctively moved toward him.
"Fish?" she called out, rushing to his side. "What happened?"
Fish looked at her, his face pale but his eyes steady. "Just a little accident in the kitchen," he said, wincing as he tried to smile. "I’ll be fine."
"Looks like a careless mishap." Amari stepped forward, his professional demeanor taking over. "Let's get that looked at," he said, guiding Fish toward an examination room.
Fish snatched his hand back. "I'm sure this isn't something for a doctor of your caliber to deal with. I'll just wait."
"No, no. It's fine. It won't take much time at all. I'm sure you're used to a little super glue in your cuts."
Jules bristled. There were times like these that Amari acted a little too entitled. It often happened around Fish.
"Did you get that while working on repairs for the bakery?" Jules asked, her voice tinged with concern.
Fish shook his head. "No, but I'm still willing to help. I'll do whatever you need."
Amari glanced at Fish, his expression impassive. "He won't be able to do much for a few days while the hand heals. It's a deep cut and will need stitches."
Fish shrugged off the warning. "I don't need the anesthetic. Just do it."
Amari shrugged back and began stitching Fish up. Jules watched, biting her lip as the needle pierced Fish's skin. Fish barely winced, his stoic demeanor unwavering.
As Amari worked, he said, "It doesn't matter if you want to help with the bakery or not because Jules is giving it up."
Fish had remained impassive when Amari tugged the needle through his flesh a second time. With those words, Fish's eyes widened. He turned to Jules, clearly surprised. "You're giving up the bakery?"
Jules shook her head, her voice firm. "I'm not giving up the bakery."
Amari sighed, his fingers deftly moving with the needle. "If we're going to get married someday, you'll have to give it up then."
Fish's expression hardened. "If you get married now, you'll have the money from your inheritance."
Amari's fingers slipped on the stitches. Fish winced, his sharp intake of breath echoing in the small room. Jules felt her heart clench at the sight of her friend's pain. This was not how she wanted to propose to her boyfriend.
Amari looked up, his eyes narrowing. "What's he talking about?"
Jules swallowed hard, her mind racing. "Amari, I was going to talk to you about this later, but…" She took a deep breath and decided to forgo the romantic route and take a page out of her sister's cookbook. Jacqui had been practical when she'd proposed to Noah, and look how that turned out. Noah worshiped the ground Jacqui walked on. "I need the money from my inheritance to rebuild the bakery. The only way to get it is if we get married."
"Inheritance? How am I just hearing about this?"
"Because it didn't matter. Until now."
"We can't get married now." Amari snipped the ends of the threads of Fish's suture, then headed to the hazard bin to dispose of his gloves.
"Why not?"
"It's not part of the plan. I need to finish my residency first." The sound of the waste bin closing echoed through the silence of the room.
"I'll do it."
Jules had been imagining Amari saying I do. But that deep voice had been Fish's. Those words had come from his mouth. And when they did, something inside of her settled.
"If it will help you rebuild the bakery and reach you dreams, I'll marry you, Jules."