Chapter Ten #2
“Sorry if I woke you.” She cleared her throat. “Did you stay overnight?”
A part of her already knew what he was going to say.
“Yeah. Didn’t wanna be alone,” he mumbled before patting the sheets. “Ari also offers free room and board with the most comfortable amenities.” He nodded to his brother. “Not to mention, he’s a better listener than he’s ever been.”
Ava’s lips crept upward. The joke was bad—forced, even—but it was familiar. It was Jay trying to make the unbearable feel manageable. Something about his easy posture and grief tucked neatly behind a grin made her chest loosen.
She let her guard slip a little and rolled her eyes. “His room and board costs a fortune, and these accommodations suck.”
“How could I pass this up, you know?” He put his hands behind his head like he was lounging by the pool before nodding to her hands. “Those for me after reading my diary?”
Ava blinked. “Hmm?”
He gestured lazily to the sunflowers. “Those.”
“Oh. I figured it was time to refresh Ari’s flowers. Your…diary is still in my car.”
It had been sitting on her passenger seat, buried beneath a sweatshirt she’d meant to take inside and wash days ago.
When he handed her the journal, she’d made it to her car, opened it to the first page, and immediately slammed it shut.
His handwriting and the first lines about missing her while on tour… she wasn’t ready.
As she finished refilling the vase with fresh water and placing the new flowers inside, Jay shuffled around on the cot, tucking his long legs underneath him. He wore an oversized Paramore shirt with gray sweatpants.
“Should’ve known the sunflowers were from you.”
Ava’s cheeks flushed.
“Yes, well, I want to make sure his room has some color in it.” She didn’t look at Jay as she reached for Ari. With a quick squeeze of his hand, she turned toward the door. “You can go back to sleep. I’m going home.”
“A, wait. Sit for a second.” He scooted back to make room for her on his cot and patted the spot in front of him. “You look like you’re about to fall over dead.”
She was beat, and she knew it. Her body felt like it wasn’t far from shutting down, sore from the constant grind.
She eyed him warily but ultimately relented. Dropping her bag to the floor, she sat on the edge of his makeshift bed, taking in a deep breath that turned into a yawn.
“How long has it been since you slept?”
Ava shrugged. She pulled her hair out of its elastic, attempting to pull it back into a smoother ponytail.
“Worked a double, so it’s been a while.”
“How long is a double?”
“Supposed to be twenty-four hours, but one of the attending physicians forced me to clock out when I fell asleep in my desk chair. I wasn’t even asleep that long. I would’ve been fine.”
Jay fiddled with the white hospital blanket on the armrest. “Don’t take this the wrong way, A, but you look like shit.”
She snorted. “Thanks.”
“How can I help?”
She looked him up and down as if assessing the danger-level of where this conversation was going. His brown eyes were soft with concern.
“I just need to go home and go to sleep.”
“What about food? Have you eaten?”
Her lips pressed together. “I think I had a donut at some point.”
“All right. That’s it. Come on.” He climbed over the armrest, leaving her on his bed alone. “I’m going to buy you the best meal this hospital can provide. You need to eat before you get behind the wheel.”
Ava sat there, both exasperated and touched, a small smile creeping onto her face. He was right—she did need to eat, and the way he wanted to take care of her made her want to lean into it, even if she knew she probably shouldn’t.
“The best meal in this hospital right now is probably some sort of fried chicken and mashed potatoes.”
“A delicacy in Nashville, I’ve heard.” Jay’s hand shot out, and he slipped into a terrible British accent. “Will you accompany me to the refectory, Lady Davenport?”
His accent was never as good as hers, and it was definitely rusty after years of neglect.
Ava’s smile widened, and she responded in kind: “A delightful invitation, indeed, Mr. Wyler.”
When they were fifteen, Ava became obsessed with Pride and Prejudice.
She’d forced Jay to watch the television adaptation with her, which led to him speaking to her in a bad British accent fairly often.
She would answer him back, and their exchanges usually ended in them laughing until they were red in the face.
Jay always tried to say the most outrageous thing he could muster.
She was sure the whole routine had started because he was jealous of her fixation on Colin Firth.
Ava took his outstretched hand, but she let it go quickly, grabbing her bag and heading for the door. She glanced back to ensure he was following, and with a final look at Ari, he fell into step behind her.
The cafeteria was far from the ICU, but Ava knew the quickest route. After numerous twists and turns and a trip on the elevator, they found it. The space was bathed in natural light with small round tables arranged in neat rows throughout.
They made their way through the serving line, which provided no fried chicken, but there was the option of flank steak or barbecue chicken.
Ava got the first and Jay the latter, both of them piling scalloped potatoes and corn fritters on the side.
Ava also decided on a large latte, and Jay paid for it all when she was distracted with the flavor options.
They settled at a table by the windows, overlooking a courtyard. Lush greenery enveloped one side, featuring everything from tall trees to climbing vines, with hints of vibrant flowers that bloomed beautifully in spring and summer.
Jay slid his plate to the center of the table, and Ava followed suit, placing hers next to his. It was an old habit, born from their very first restaurant outing as kids. Jay always wanted to taste whatever anyone else ordered.
They stayed silent for a bit, the tension heavy, until Ava broke through it with an awkward laugh.
“God, why do I feel nervous?”
Jay exhaled, laughing in agreement. “It’s weird, right? Being with you feels so familiar, but it’s also like we’re strangers.”
“I think we know each other as well as we always have.” Ava’s fork poked at the slightly too chewy flank steak. “We just have to take into account that we’ve grown up a lot since that last time. We’re the same but different.”
“We are the same but different.” Jay’s lips lifted into a sly smile. “Also, we’re way hotter now.”
Ava burst out laughing. His features lifted at her reaction.
“You’re right.” She took a sip of her latte and sighed at the warm sweetness. “It’s easy to focus on the past. I should—we should—talk about us now.”
Jay, keeping the mood light, continued, “Yes, let’s talk about the hotter versions of ourselves.”
She laughed again, shifting in her seat. “How are things with the band?”
“Told Lionel to throw out whatever contract we have. I’m done.
” Jay set his fork down and clasped his hands together on the table.
“It sucks, but I don’t want to play politics with my own band.
There’s also no way I can look at Riley right now without absolutely losing it, so that plus no Ari? It’s definitely a no-go.”
“Can the label sue you for that?”
“Oh yeah. I signed my life away years ago, but they’ll let me go for the right price. Record execs always do.” Jay rubbed his forehead. “God, that sounds pretentious as hell, doesn’t it?”
Ava laughed. “A little, but everything is about money in the music business.”
“That’s the problem, though. I understand we need money to travel and make all of this work. I just miss when it was more about making the perfect set list and really putting everything into the songs.”
Ava considered his words as she took a bite of potatoes. “I get that. It’s the same in medicine.”
“How?”
“People burn out. You tie your passion to a paycheck, and it turns into something else. I’m not even a full doctor yet, and I’ve already second-guessed my decision a million times.”
“Because you lose patients?”
Ava thought of all the blood on the boy from the crash and took in a sharp breath. Jay immediately reached his hand out to grab hers, squeezing. She let him, taking comfort in it.
“Shit. Sorry. That was the wrong thing to say.”
“It’s okay.” She squeezed his hand back. “You’re right. I think it’s that, and it’s also that people suck. You give everything to help them, and they either don’t care or make it worse. You want to shake the ones who take life for granted.”
Jay swallowed and looked down to the table, releasing her hand so his finger could pick at the wood grain. When he glanced back up, there was a flicker of discomfort in his eyes.
“I never thought about that. You’ve gotta try to save those who don’t want to be saved.”
“Yeah, and there’s all the misdiagnoses and mistakes that can happen. It’s a lot of pressure.”
She stopped to take another sip of her latte, and Jay fixed his eyes on the windows.
“All of that to say,” she continued, “it’s all-consuming. If you care too much, you burn out. One mistake feels like the end of the world.”
Seeing an opportunity to lighten the mood, Jay looked back to her. “So that’s why people become accountants. No one’s heart stops if you misplace a decimal.”
Ava laughed. “I guess so.”
“Unless it’s on a royalty check,” he said, clearly pleased that his joke landed. “Then I might cry.”
They resumed picking at their plates as the conversation flowed on. They kept to lighter topics. Jay told her about some of his more embarrassing moments in the public eye, like how he pronounced “banal” incorrectly on live TV, and the interviewer laughed in his face.
“Look. It’s ‘anal’ with a ‘b’ in front of it. I’ve only ever read the word.”
“Well, you tried to sound sophisticated, and that’s what counts.”