CHAPTER FOURTEEN
JENNIFER
Seth ends up staying in the hospital for two days.
I called Mrs. Avery to let her know what was happening, and she commended me for going above and beyond my housekeeping duties.
I didn’t bother correcting her because I’m sure not sleeping with the guests was in the contract I signed.
And even if it wasn’t, I didn’t feel like getting into all that with her when I was still so worried about Seth.
She also was kind enough to tell me to take a few days off, due to stress, which I appreciated because I couldn’t imagine having to work and be with Seth the way I needed to be.
The days blur together in a haze of hospital routine.
I’m there every visiting hour. I sit with him while they check his vitals, adjust his medications, and monitor his blood pressure every four hours.
I bring him books and his phone from the cabin.
He was smart enough not to ask for his laptop.
I might have laughed in his face if he had asked.
His numbers stabilize slowly. Blood pressure coming down from the dangerous spike, settling back toward normal. The doctor adjusts his medication dosages and adds a new prescription for anxiety that might help with the stress response.
Seth is quiet. Subdued in a way I've never seen him. He doesn't ask about work or reach for his phone. He just lies there, staring at the ceiling or out the window, lost in thought.
I don't push or ask what he's thinking. I stay there so he’s not alone. I did ask if he had family that he wanted me to call, and he said he didn’t want to bother his parents about this. That kind of shocked me. If I were in the hospital and my mom found out after the fact she would be ticked.
Thankfully, around eleven on day three, the doctor discharges him with strict instructions: complete rest for the next week, no work, follow-up appointment in three days, continue all medications, and monitor blood pressure twice daily.
“You got lucky, Mr. Donovan,” she says. “Very lucky. Don't waste it.”
I drive him to the cabin in silence. He stares out the window the whole way, watching the trees pass, and the lake appear and disappear through the gaps.
At the cabin, I help him inside even though he doesn't need help. After I get him settled on the couch with water and his medications, I make us a light lunch of soup and toast, nothing that will stress his system.
He eats mechanically, not saying a word.
I clean up the kitchen some and come back into the living room, just standing there and looking at him. He’s still Seth, still the man I fell in love with, and he almost died three days ago. That’s the part that I simply cannot wrap my head around.
“We need to talk,” I say quietly.
He looks up at me, and I see fear flash across his face. “Okay,” he mumbles.
I sit in the armchair across from him, not next to him on the couch like I normally would. I need to maintain some distance so I can say what needs to be said.
“Seth, I watched you almost die three days ago.” My voice is steady, and I’m amazed at how calm I feel. “I watched your face turn gray and your hand clutch at your chest, and I thought, this is it. This is how I lose him.”
He opens his mouth to speak, but I hold up a hand.
“I need you to listen. Really listen.” I take a breath.
“When I was twelve, my father had his first heart attack.
He was forty-two. The doctor told him to slow down, change his life, and reduce stress.
He didn't. He went right back to seventy-hour weeks, black coffee, fried foods, and too much alcohol.” I meet his eyes.
“Six months later, he had his second heart attack. He didn't survive that one.”
Seth's face goes pale. “Jennifer-”
“I watched my mother fall apart. I watched her blame herself for not pushing harder and not making him choose differently. I watched her live with that guilt for years.” My voice stays calm, but firm.
“And I promised myself I would never put myself in that position. I would never love someone who was determined to die young for a job or a vice.”
“I'm not trying to die.”
My short nails dig into my palms, but I manage to keep my tone level.
“You almost did, Seth. You almost died for a company that would replace you before you were even in the ground. I refuse to watch that happen.” I lean forward slightly.
“I will not stand by and watch you kill yourself. I can't. I refuse to.”
He's staring at me, clearly stunned, like he didn't expect this. Maybe he expected me to just be relieved he's okay, maybe cry a little, then move on.
“You need to make a choice,” I continue, my voice steady and certain.
“A real choice. You can stay here and build a completely different life, and I mean completely different, not just working remotely with one foot still in the door.
Or you can go back to your company and your old life.
But you can't have both. Not the way you were trying to do it.”
“That's an ultimatum,” he says quietly.
“Yes, it is.” I don't flinch. “Because I love you, Seth. I love you so much it terrifies me. But I love myself too. And I will not destroy myself trying to save someone who doesn't want to be saved.”
“I do want-”
“Do you?” I hold his gaze. “Because three days ago, when that call came in, you didn't choose your health. You didn't choose me. You chose the crisis. You chose to fix it and to try to control it, even though you knew- you KNEW- what it could do to you.”
He has no answer to that. The truth of it sits between us, heavy and undeniable.
I stand up and fish my car keys out of my pocket. His eyes go wide.
“Wait, where are you going?”
“Home. You need time to think. To really think about what you want your life to look like. About what matters most to you.” I move toward the door, my steps calm and deliberate.
“And I need space. I need to not be here while you figure it out, because if I stay, I'll make it easier for you to not choose.
I'll cook for you and walk with you and check your blood pressure, and you'll think you can have everything without changing anything necessary.”
“Jennifer, please-”
I pause at the door and turn back to look at him. He's halfway up from the couch, one hand reaching toward me, with a stricken look on his face.
“Take all the time you need to think about things,” I say gently. “Think about what really matters to you. And when you've decided, really decided, not just a compromise or a middle ground, you can call me.”
“How long?” His voice cracks.
“However long it takes.” I give him a small, sad smile. “I'm not going anywhere, Seth. I'm not leaving town or disappearing. But I am choosing myself. I'm choosing not to watch someone I love die. And now you get to choose too.”
“Don't go.” It comes out as a whisper. “Please.”
“I have to. For both of us.” I open the door and pause one more time. “I love you. Remember that while you're thinking. I love you enough to walk away if you can't choose life.”
Then I step through the door and close it softly behind me.
I make it to my car before the tears come. But even through them, I know I did the right thing.
He has to choose. Really choose.
And I can't make that choice for him.