Chapter 17
Lesson 17: Always do a background check before you let a man carry you off into the sunset.
Bridget Jones Tally:
ankles—still 2
gross hospital Jell-O cups—1
tour time wasted—six hours
conversations I can never unhear—1
After much cooing and nuzzling by the gaggle, we made our way to the hospital, where I was informed that it was a sprain and
I would soon be on my feet, but I would need crutches, a brace, and plenty of ice until my ankle felt strong again. Robbie
stayed with me and made a valiant effort to keep me distracted and feeling looked after. Maybe it was the painkillers, but
everything he said made me smile. I couldn’t stop. I laughed so much I nearly forgot the pain.
I was returning with the nurse from a pee break when I heard him on the phone down the hall. “Yeah, it was pretty terrible. They’re just about to send us home from hospital now... Oh, just one of the ladies. A new one, you wouldn’t know her. American... Yeah, I know. Exactly... Of course I’ll call you before bed. I always do, don’t I? Send me a shot of those new pajamas, I’ve gotta see them. We can have a cozy Netflix night as soon as I’m back... I love you too, gorgeous... Wish you were here... Yeah, I’ll be home before you know it.”
All that warm comfort, and suddenly I felt as if I’d been drenched with a bucket of ice water. “I love you”? “Gorgeous”? “I’ll be home”? Does Robbie have a girlfriend? Is that who he’s always on the phone with?
My memories were hazy with pain and lust, but when I replayed the tape, I knew that I was the one who had gone in for the
kiss. I was the one to make the move. I hadn’t asked—I just listened to my adrenaline and attacked him.
But he had kissed back.
And it wasn’t a polite kiss to save a wounded woman some embarrassment. It was a full-body, rip your clothes off sort of kiss.
If he wasn’t single, he should never have done that. He should never have grabbed me and kissed me until I melted completely
into him, until I couldn’t see straight, until the whole world was knocked off its axis and revolved around the two of us.
It hurt. I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but it was painful. I knew it was just a kiss. A kiss with someone who was insufferable
and who I didn’t even like, while I was under the influence of adrenaline. It meant nothing. It was never going to go anywhere.
And maybe for him it was just a little bit of fun, but my heart was too fragile for this. I should never have been so careless
with it.
And while he was there kissing the life out of me, he had a girlfriend at home missing him. He was a dirty cheat. Just like
Hunter. He probably did this all the time. The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. My hands were starting to shake.
He should have stopped me.
Guilt rose in my throat like bile. I didn’t want to be the other woman. Perhaps they had an open relationship. That was a
thing these days. But still. Even if it were true, I sure didn’t want any part of it. And he should have told me. My thoughts
raced. I felt sick.
“Sorry about that. I was having a talk with the doctor requesting they just take the thing off and get a peg leg for you to go with the whole pirate theme, but they wouldn’t do it. Something about a hypocritical oath. But don’t be too disappointed, I’m sure we can do a quick DIY job when we get back to the B&B.”
I gave him a tight smile. “Can we go now?”
“Of course, darlin’,” he said sweetly, and kissed my forehead. “How do you want to do it? Do you want to give these babies
a spin around the block?” He held my crutches out. “For the record, I would be quite happy to carry you out. Hell, I’d be
quite happy to carry you all around town even without the bum leg.” I grabbed the crutches. He sure was good at making me
feel special. And I was mad at myself for falling for it.
When we got back to the B&B, I went straight to my room—without being kissed, or cuddled, or joked with. I just wanted to
be alone.
Later, once I was warmly tucked in bed with a nice cup of chamomile, I looked at it all again, and decided that I would take
it for what it was worth—a fun and exciting fleeting moment of mad romance at a castle ruin, in the British rain, with a handsome
Scotsman, heightened by the age-old aphrodisiacs of pain and jeopardy. This was something I could tell new friends over cocktails
when I got home. It was something that they would swoon over and be envious of. It was an adventure. It was fun and exciting.
But that was all it was. I wouldn’t wish away the memory, nor would I lose my head over it. I knew that if we kissed again, if we followed the path to see where it led, things would get out of hand quickly, and I would end up getting hurt. Also, I knew well enough that I would spend too much time focusing on Robbie and our time together, rather than focusing on myself, which is what I had come here to do. It would derail my objective. And that was if he was in an open relationship, and not just a cheater.
Perhaps he was feeling the same way and would go on as if nothing had happened. But either way, I would need to distance myself
from him. I drifted off to sleep planning my battle strategy.