Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
F ish leaned against the cool, sterile wall of the hospital hallway, peering through the small window into Jules’ room. His fists clenched as he watched Amari leaning over her, checking her vitals. From this angle, it looked like they were getting cozy, reconnecting in a way that made his stomach twist with jealousy. A part of him wanted to storm in there and tell Amari to take his hands off his wife.
But then he saw it—Jules rolled her eyes at something Amari said, her expression filled with irritation. Despite himself, Fish felt a flicker of amusement. Typical Jules, not letting anyone, not even a doctor, boss her around. He loved that about her, her fiery spirit and independence.
Yet, as he watched, another thought crept into his mind. When Jules had passed out on the hike, he had been completely clueless, paralyzed by fear and guilt. He still didn't know everything he should about her diabetes. He had no idea how to properly take care of her during an episode. But Amari did. That alone made Amari the better man for her, didn’t it?
The memory of holding Jules’s limp body in his arms flashed through his mind. He had never felt so helpless, so terrified. If he truly loved her, shouldn’t he want what was best for her? And maybe, just maybe, what was best for her was someone who could take care of her, someone who had the medical knowledge and training to handle her condition.
His heart broke at the thought, but he couldn’t ignore it. He watched as Amari continued to examine Jules, his movements confident and sure. Fish felt a pang of inadequacy. How could he compete with that? How could he provide the security and stability that Jules needed?
He took a deep breath, his decision solidifying in his mind. He had to back away. He had to let Jules rekindle her relationship with Amari. It was the right thing to do, even if it meant breaking his own heart in the process.
He looked down at the ring on his finger. It gleamed proudly against his tanned skin. He couldn't get his right hand to reach over and take it off. He might not be the man for her, but she was the only woman for him. That ring would forever remain a symbol of it.
Fish was just about to turn away from Jules' hospital room when he heard hurried footsteps. Jacqui and Noah rushed up to him, their faces etched with worry.
"What happened?" Jacqui demanded, her eyes wide with fear. "Is Jules okay?"
Fish swallowed hard, his throat tight. "We went on a hike. I gave her my sports drink. It had sugar in it. She had a reaction and passed out."
"You did what?"
Fish had seen the look Jacqui reserved for when a dish came back to the kitchen not up to her standards or when a supplier tried to short her on an order. But this was personal.
Jacqui’s face twisted, her eyes blazing with an anger that made Fish’s stomach knot. He’d faced down enemies on the battlefield, stared down the barrel of a gun more times than he could count, but nothing prepared him for the storm that was Jacqui Chou.
"How could you be so careless?" she snapped, her voice cutting through the quiet hallway like a knife. "You know she’s diabetic. You should have known better."
Fish accepted the cut wordlessly, his shoulders slumping under the weight of his guilt. As Jacqui's sous chef, he was used to her tearing his dishes apart, her sharp critiques meant to push him to be better. But this was different. This wasn’t about a dish; it was about Jules’ life.
He knew she was right. He knew that food could be dangerous. In the restaurant, if someone came in with a peanut allergy, it was his responsibility to ensure no nuts touched their plate. It was the same with Jules. He had her life in his hands, and he had nearly killed her.
The memory of his time in the military flooded back, unbidden. He had always been the one to run out first, charging ahead with bravery. The last time he'd braved the front, it was those behind him who met the bullets, who paid the price for his boldness. Jules thought of him as a snowplow, but while he was bulldozing through, she'd gotten buried in the wake of his recklessness.
"Jacqui, he didn’t mean for this to happen," Noah said, trying to calm his wife. He placed a reassuring hand on Fish’s shoulder. "You did what you thought was right at the moment."
Jacqui sighed, her expression weary. "I'm going in to see her."
After Jacqui's departure, the tension in the air settled slightly, but not enough to ease the weight on Fish’s shoulders. He stood there, feeling the sting of Jacqui’s words lingering like a wound that refused to heal. His chest tightened as he replayed the moment over and over in his mind—the hike, the drink, the panic in Jules’ eyes before she lost consciousness.
Noah, always the steady presence, gave Fish’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. He opened his mouth to speak, likely to try and assuage Fish's guilt, but Fish gave a shake of his head.
“In our past jobs, mistakes got people killed. This was no different. I almost killed her.”
As a soldier, Noah understood the weight of guilt Fish was carrying. He’d been there too, haunted by the what-ifs, the close calls that could have gone another way. “You didn’t know, man. You were trying to help.”
"You know what she called me? Her snowplow. Because I move obstacles out of her way. But what if I'm the obstacle?"
“You’re being too hard on yourself. You made it out when others didn’t. You’ve been carrying that with you, and now you’re using it to punish yourself. But you’re not in a war zone anymore. Jules is your wife. She needs you to be here with her, not trapped in the past.”
He was trapped in the past, just the more immediate one. Fish couldn't shake the vision of Jules collapsing in front of him. He had moved every obstacle out of her way today, only to lead her into danger with that hike and then place a bomb in her hand filled with sugar.
Fish took one last look at Jules, her beautiful face framed by the hospital pillows. Amari was still in the room, writing something on a clipboard. Jules looked tired but defiant, strong despite everything. He loved her more than he had ever loved anyone. But sometimes love meant letting go.
He turned away from her door, the decision weighing heavily on his shoulders. He started to walk down the hallway, each step feeling like he was leaving a piece of his heart behind. He had to trust that Jules would be okay, that Amari would take care of her.